Viktor turned sharply from the vanity, his dark eyes narrowing with a mixture of amusement and feigned suspicion as Alia stepped out into the room. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning back slightly against the edge of the table.
"All right, my little secret agent," Viktor said, his voice dropping into a playfully teasing register. "Before we pretend you didn't just stage a total heist in the middle of our rehearsal, care to explain how my favorite watch managed to vanish from a locked room?"
Alia stopped in her tracks, a bright, triumphant grin spreading across her face. Her wet hair fell in soft, dark waves over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with pure mischief. Instead of looking guilty, she stepped right up to him, tilting her chin up with an unapologetic, sassy smirk.
"A magician never reveals her secrets, Mr. Viktor," Alia teased, her voice sweet and melodic. "Besides, what's an underworld empire without a little stolen loot? Consider it a tax for enduring your intense villain monologues all morning."
Viktor let out a low, rich laugh, the last trace of frustration vanishing completely. He reached out, effortlessly catching her by the waist before she could dart away, and pulled her flush against him.
"Is that so?" Viktor murmured, resting his forehead lightly against hers as a warm, genuine smile touched his lips. "A tax collector, hm? Well, if you're going to rob my dressing table, you'll have to face the consequences."
Alia blinked her eyes wide in feigned astonishment, immediately protesting, "I didn't steal your watch, how absurd! What are you even saying?"
With that, she didn't waste another second lingering there. Adjusting her shirt and skirt, she strode straight out toward the hallway. Stepping into the corridor, she immediately called out instructions to the household maids and servants lined up nearby:
"Listen up! Take down the heavy velvet curtains in the living room right now and get them thoroughly washed and cleaned. I don't want a single speck of dust left on them."
At her command, a neat line of nearly ten maids instantly formed along both sides of the corridor, bowing their heads respectfully to acknowledge her orders.
At that exact moment, Viktor emerged from his room, his long strides carrying him swiftly right up behind Alia. A deep, serious, and cautionary tone laced his voice as he called out to her from behind, "Alia... try to understand what I'm saying. The rules of this underworld aren't nearly as simple as you think."
Hearing Viktor call out, Alia abruptly came to a halt. She turned around slowly. In one hand, she clutched the heavy, gold-engraved Mafia Godmother cane the ultimate symbol of authority within the Petrov empire. Tapping the tip of the cane coldly against the floor, she turned her gaze toward Viktor with a mysterious, ice-cold stare.
Stepping closer, Viktor lowered his voice into a serious yet remarkably tender tone. "Try to understand, Alia... that wasn't just any ordinary watch. It was a Patek Philippe Grandmaster Chime! And more than that, my baby gifted it to me herself out of pure affection."
Tapping the golden head of her cane lightly against the floor, Alia offered a sly, sassy smile and retorted, "You're a billionaire, Viktor! You have no shortage of money. You could buy thousands of watches like that if you wanted to."
Stepping in even closer, Viktor slid his arm around Alia's waist, holding her close as he looked deeply into her eyes. "Who is talking about money, Alia? You can buy watches anywhere, but can all the money in the world replace the memory of the person who lovingly strapped that watch onto my wrist with her own hands? Whether you stole it or not, you're the one who is going to give my priceless treasure back to me otherwise, the punishment for this long night is going to be far more severe, my Godmother Queen."
Leaning slightly closer to him, Alia twirled the tip of her cane with a mysterious, teasing grin. "Then prove that I took it, Mr. Petrov! Don't throw cheap accusations of petty theft at me without any proof."
Stepping out through the massive iron gates of the estate, Alia led the way, tapping her heavy, gold-engraved Mafia Godmother cane rhythmically against the stone pathway. Behind her, Viktor trailed closely, hands dramatically pressed together in a playful gesture of supplication. Flanking them both were lines of stoic, elite bodyguards maintaining a strict perimeter.
Stopping in his tracks with a theatrical grin, Viktor bowed his head slightly and called out in a mock-pleading tone, "Oh, my almighty Godmother Queen, please have mercy on this poor soul and return my stolen treasure!"
Caught off guard by his sudden display, Alia paused and glanced back over her shoulder. Meeting his gaze, a sharp, triumphant smirk played across her lips beneath her cool, composed exterior.
Surrounded by the silent, watchful rows of bodyguards, Viktor laughed softly, stepping closer to bridge the distance as their high-stakes, playful game continued beneath the cold, open sky.
A bright, amused laugh bubbled up from Alia as she continued walking forward, making her way straight toward the massive estate garage. As the grand doors rolled open, a breathtaking fleet of twenty to thirty ultra-luxury supercars gleamed under the polished lights.
Stepping up to one of the sleekest vehicles, Alia unlocked it with a press of her key fob and reached for the driver's side door. Before she could step inside, Viktor hurried up from behind, catching her hand and pleading in that same stubborn, affectionate tone:
"Alia, try to understand... just like that watch, this car was specially chosen and gifted to me by my baby!"
Hearing him repeatedly bring up this mysterious "baby," Alia arched an eyebrow, offering a slow, teasing smirk. Tilting her head with a playful glint in her eyes, she retorted:
"Which baby are you talking about, Mr. Petrov? Who is this secret little baby of yours that you keep bringing up?"
With a deeply affectionate yet completely serious expression, Viktor answered, "My baby is you, of course... who else could it be?"
The moment those words left Viktor's lips, Alia couldn't hold it in any longer. Throwing her head back, she burst into a bright, ringing fit of laughter, mocking him playfully.
"Baby? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!"
Her melodic laughter echoed through the massive garage, completely shattering the tense mafia atmosphere. At that exact sound, one of the elite bodyguards standing directly behind Viktor mistakenly thought he could chime in to lighten the mood. Stepping forward slightly, he muttered under his breath, "The Madam seems to be having a bit too much fun..."
Hearing that random intrusion, Viktor's expression snapped in a fraction of a second. Without a single second of hesitation, he whirled around and delivered a resounding, lightning-fast slap straight across the bodyguard's cheek!
Staggering back from the impact, the poor bodyguard clutched his stinging face in absolute shock, stammering in pure panic, "Sir! What... what did I even do?! I was just trying to say !"
Gleaming with cold, lethal fury, Viktor cut him off with a razor-sharp glare. "Who gave you permission to poke your nose into a personal, romantic conversation between me and my wife? Do your job, keep your mouth shut, and stay in your lane!"
The bewildered bodyguard blinked rapidly, utterly dumbfounded as he rubbed his throbbing cheek. Left standing there with a face full of disbelief, he whispered miserably to himself, "What kind of madness is this... I didn't even do anything wrong, and yet I'm the one taking a direct hit from the boss! Talk about being caught in the crossfire of a romance!"
Meanwhile, watching the hilarious spectacle unfold, Alia's laughter only grew wilder. Clutching her stomach as tears of mirth pricked the corners of her eyes, she didn't wait another second. Slipping into the driver's seat of the ultra-luxury supercar, she slammed her hand onto the ignition button. The engine roared to life with a deep, ferocious growl.
As Viktor quickly stepped forward to try and catch the door, Alia shot him a breathtaking, wicked wink and floored the accelerator. With a sharp screech of rubber against the polished concrete and a plume of faint white smoke, the supercar shot out of the garage and vanished down the estate driveway in a heartbeat.
Left standing in the dust, Viktor let out a long, helpless sigh, staring after the disappearing vehicle with a mix of fond exasperation. Beside him, the unfortunate bodyguard carefully massaged his red cheek, muttering under his breath, "Definitely not my lucky day... the boss gets played by his wife, and my face pays the price!"
Meanwhile, as Alia sped away from the garage in her supercar, her own personal bodyguard (whom she had personally appointed to her security detail) stepped forward and muttered somewhat condescendingly toward Viktor, "Mr. Petrov, letting the Madam leave that easily was a mistake..."
The moment those words left his mouth, Alia (who had slowed her car down just ahead and caught the entire exchange in her side-view mirror) didn't waste a single second. She threw the car into reverse, sped backward right back to the front of the garage, and hopped out of the vehicle in a flash.
Bringing her heavy, gold-engraved Mafia Godmother cane down hard against the stone floor with a sharp thud, Alia marched right up to her personal bodyguard and stared him down with a chilling glare. "By whose permission did you stick your nose into matters between me and my husband? Worry about your own duties and keep your mouth shut!"
Before the bodyguard even had a chance to process what was happening, Alia delivered a resounding, lightning-fast slap straight across his cheek with her bare hand!
Watching Alia slap her own bodyguard left Viktor in absolute stitches, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Shoving his hands into his pockets with a crooked, amused smirk, he thought to himself that she truly was the reigning queen of the underworld when her temper flared, she spared absolutely no one, friend or foe alike.
Left standing there with a stinging cheek, the poor bodyguard clutched his face in absolute shock and bewilderment. He stammered miserably to himself, "What kind of madness is this?! First the boss's bodyguard gets slapped by the boss, and now I get slapped by my own boss he Madam! This job is seriously a hazard to our health!"
Seeing his pathetic, wide-eyed expression, both Viktor and Alia completely lost it, and the entire estate courtyard echoed with their bright, ringing laughter.