The artistic fascination in the room instantly vanished, transforming back into a destructive frenzy. After seeing that beautiful tattoo on Alia's back, Viktor's intoxication seemed to increase a thousandfold. The 'psycho' Mafia Lord within him awakened again with full force.
Viktor showed no mercy this time. Gripping Alia's waist even tighter, he began to push with all the strength of his body. Each thrust was so intense that the heavy, expensive wooden bed slammed forcefully against the wall. Overcoming the silence of the room, the 'clacking' sound of the bed created a terrifying rhythm.
Viktor: (Grit teeth, in an animalistic voice) "The doctor was right, Alia... I am not well! This madness is my strength, and with this strength, I shall rule you!"
As the bed repeatedly slammed against the wall, it felt as though the entire room was shaking. Alia bit down hard on the pillow with both hands to prevent her screams from waking the entire mansion. The gorgeous tattoo on her sweat-drenched back seemed to come alive with every intense movement of Viktor's. Viktor was following no rules and respecting no boundaries now; he was obsessed with the primal urge of possessing Alia completely.
In that luxury Moscow apartment, the sound of the bed colliding with the wall told the story of how extreme and terrifying Viktor's 'revenge' and 'love' could be. Viktor's madness no longer knows any bounds. Alia's gorgeous back tattoo and her defiant beauty have dragged Viktor's 'psycho' persona into a dark abyss. It was as if he wanted to carve his name into the very depths of her existence.
Viktor completely surrendered the weight of his body onto Alia's back. His grip on her waist was so tight that dark bruises were beginning to form. Viktor now began to make every movement slower but excruciatingly deeper. He wanted Alia to feel his presence in every single cell of her body.
Viktor: (In a low, animalistic voice) "I told you, Alia... there is no escape today. Today, I will reach the darkest corner of your soul."
The relentless sound of the bed and Alia's breathless moans made the air in the room heavy. As Viktor pushed deeper, Alia felt as though she were drowning in a turbulent sea. Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as if trying to tear them apart. This primal and deep dominance of Viktor's was shattering Alia's "cold-blooded" composure. Viktor's behavior was truly terrifying and inhuman. On one hand, he was consumed by his primal obsession; on the other, he was handling the ruthless business of his mafia empire with cold-blooded precision. The phone call on his earphone instantly shifted the dynamic.
The small Bluetooth earphone in Viktor's ear suddenly glowed blue. While keeping his grip tight on Alia's waist and continuing the intense intimacy, his voice transformed into the professional, chilling tone of an assassin.
Viktor: (On the phone, in a dead-calm voice) "Speak. ...No, finish him right now. I want no evidence. Ensure the body is at the bottom of the Moscow River."
Alia remained buried in the bed, gasping in pain and arousal, every thrust from Viktor shattering her. But Viktor showed no emotion. He continued his animalistic dominance over Alia while simultaneously issuing death warrants over the phone.
Viktor: (Biting into Alia's back tattoo while talking on the phone) "The shipment must be at my dock by tomorrow morning. If there's a delay, the dealer dies too."
Cutting the call, Viktor let out a diabolical laugh. He leaned into Alia's ear, his heavy breath burning her skin.
Viktor: "See, Alia? On one side, I play with death; on the other, this extreme madness with you. This is Viktor Petrov. I am hell, and I am heaven."
Alia realized the doctor was right. Viktor wasn't just a psycho; he was a dangerously unbalanced power-player who had woven intimacy and bloodshed into the same thread.The earphone buzzed again. The name 'Anna' flashed—Viktor's younger sister. Anna knows how dangerous her brother is, but she is the only one who dares to tease him.
Anna: (Teasingly, laughing) "What's up, brother? What are these sounds in the middle of the night? Are you moving furniture? Or are you using a new drill machine on the wall? The rhythm is quite impressive!"
Viktor's jaw tightened. He increased his dominance over Alia. A stifled moan escaped Alia's lips, reaching the other side of the phone faintly.
Viktor: (In a very low and serious voice) "Anna, don't cross your limit. Tell me why you called; I don't have time for nonsense."
Anna: (A bit startled but still joking) "Hey, why so angry? I just asked. Mom said to have you and Alia over for breakfast tomorrow. But from what I'm hearing, it seems you won't even wake up by noon! Goodnight brother, enjoy 'moving the furniture'!"
Viktor cut the call and tossed the earphone away. Anna's words fueled his frenzy even more. He bit Alia's ear and whispered, "Did you hear that? Even Anna knows how merciless her brother is today. Now tell me, how much more noise do you want to make?" After the call with Anna, the suppressed volcano inside Viktor finally erupted for the last time. Gathering all his remaining strength, he delivered one final, deepest surge.
A long, primal roar escaped Viktor's throat—"Ahhhhhhhhh..." In that moment, all his rage, obsession, and intoxication were released. His body stiffened over Alia for a few seconds before he finally pulled away.
A few minutes later.
Viktor is now sitting on the edge of the bed. His muscular back is turned toward Alia. He lit a thick cigar with one hand. The red glow of the flame cast a mysterious light on his ruthless features in the dark. He took a long drag and exhaled the smoke upward, his breathing still heavy. The rhythmic 'clacking' of the bed has stopped; now there is only the smoke and a heavy silence.
On the other hand, Alia lies devastated on the bed. Her hair is disheveled, her body numb with exhaustion. She says nothing, merely staring fixedly at the ceiling. In the faint light of the chandelier, her eyes look strange. Is she afraid after witnessing Viktor's animalistic side? Or is she contemplating Doctor Ivanov's words that Viktor has truly become a slave to his own nerves?
Viktor took a final drag of the cigar and flicked the ash onto the floor. He didn't look back once, but his silence signaled an undeclared war to Alia.Viktor's voice is now ice-cold, yet it carries the same dominance and predatory obsession. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he turned his head to look at Alia. There was no remorse in his eyes, only a strange, violent satisfaction.
Viktor pressed the glowing cigar between his lips. Alia was still staring fixedly at the ceiling as if she had drifted off to another world. This silence of hers suddenly provoked him. He roared in his broken, gravelly voice.
Viktor: (In an extremely rugged tone) "F#ck! What the hell are you looking at? Is your path to freedom written on that ceiling?"
He leaned over the bed and grabbed Alia's face in his powerful grip. His fingers dug into her cheeks. The scent of sweat and strong tobacco still lingered on him.
Viktor: "Look at me! You can't erase what happened tonight with those patterns on the ceiling. I've shattered you, and you're still staring as if nothing happened? Talk to me!"
Alia finally blinked. Her lips were contorted under the pressure of Viktor's hand, but that 'Cold-blooded' gaze of hers remained strangely steady. She looked into Viktor's eyes and gave a tiny smile—the kind of smile that could instantly belittle all of his stubbornness.Alia's mysterious smile suddenly transformed into a deep sense of reliance. She knew very well the loneliness and possessiveness hidden behind Viktor's ruggedness and 'psycho' behavior. Setting aside her "cold-blooded" nobility, she rested her head against Viktor's warm, sweat-dampened chest.
When Viktor was trembling with rage while gripping her face, Alia didn't protest. Instead, she moved closer and hid her face in his broad chest with deep affection. The scent of tobacco and masculinity on Viktor's skin was familiar and dear to her. This sudden, shy surrender instantly pacified the violent monster inside Viktor.
Viktor still held the burning cigar in one hand. He took a final drag and extinguished it in the ashtray. This tenderness from Alia melted his mafia heart in an instant. He wrapped his powerful arms around her as if shielding her from all the world's dangers.
Viktor buried his face in the depth of Alia's disheveled hair. He began to kiss her head and hair repeatedly with extreme gentleness. The 'psycho' or animalistic Viktor was gone; now he was just a lover who had found his peace within his beloved.
Viktor: (In a very low and thick voice) "No one else could have tolerated me but you, Alia. You know what you are to me..."
Alia remained silent, simply pressing closer to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. The battlefield of the room had now turned into a harbor of serene love.