Following the explosive encounter in Korea, a few days of tense silence settled over the Dark Palace. Yet, the psychological toll of the impending 100-man assassination plot refused to give Alia any peace.
One evening, as they retired to the grand master suite, Viktor's consuming, protective aura began to wrap around her. He wanted to hold her, to pull her into his world of intense, possessive devotion. But mentally, Alia was completely paralyzed by the stress of the stolen mainframe codes and the syndicate threat; she was simply not in the mood and entirely unready to yield to him Sensing her deep exhaustion, Viktor didn't force her. Instead, he pulled her securely against his broad chest, gently stroking her hair until, in the dead of night, she finally collapsed once into a deep, heavy sleep in his protective embrace
But the fragile peace inside the Sovereign's bedroom was devastatingly short-lived.
Piercing through the quiet of the room, the encrypted device suddenly vibrated and rang out once again with that crimson red emergency code . The jarring frequency jolted Alia awake instantly. Her entire posture stiffened with a mixture of dread and fatigue. Picking up the flashing device, she just sat there frozen on the edge of the mattress staring blankly as if she lacked the physical strength to even swipe the screen.
Seeing his brilliant queen reduced to such helpless exhaustion made something tear inside Viktor's chest. Past his frames, his ice-blue eyes softened completely beneath his messy white hair and stark white eyebrows. Sliding closer, he anchored her trembling frame against his solid chest, his long fingers cupping her chin as he began to murmur low, comforting words to soothe her nerves
Viktor: "Breathe, my love. I am right here. No black-market frequency, no CIA contract, and no underground syndicate will ever have the power to tear you from my side. Do not let them make you feel weak, Alia."
Though Viktor's comforting words reached her ears, they couldn't extinguish the raging fire in her mind. She finally connected the line, but hearing the CIA Chief's cold, relentless demands on the other end caused the master operative to snap. Staring past her lenses at the empty air, she began to talk to herself in a strained, frantic monologue her voice shaking violently with accumulated rage and betrayal.
Alia: "Why are you doing this to me? I dismantled Dmitry's entire empire. I fulfilled my debt to the agency. Do I truly have to drown my hands in the blood of 100 psychopaths just to buy my freedom? Why won't you let my family, my children, and my sanctuary live in peace?!"
As the endless, dirty politics of the agency threatened to completely break her spirit, images of her five children and her beautiful life with Viktor flashed before her eyes. For the first time in her legendary career, the fearless CIA mastermind broke down, and a few silent, heavy tears spilled over her lashes, glistening on her pale cheek like morning dew.
Seeing actual tears in Alia's eyes unlocked an ancient, terrifying protective wrath within the Sovereign of Russia. Tears were an absolute impossibility in his empire. Moving without a sound, Viktor gently turned her face toward him from behind. Locking his striking, snowy-lashed gaze onto hers, he leaned in to dry her tears, pressing his warm lips firmly against her soft cheek from behind in a deep, profoundly devoted kiss
The scorching warmth of his lips sent a sudden rush of absolute certainty and strength flooding through Alia's veins. Keeping his lips resting against her cheek, Viktor's voice dropped into a chillingly quiet, murderous whisper.
Viktor: "Those who dared to bring tears to my Alia's eyes have officially forfeited their right to exist anywhere on this earth. Tell the agency the hunt is live. Along with those 100 monsters, I am going to dismantle the entire CIA."The next morning, as the soft dawn light illuminated the grand master suite, the emotional vulnerability of the night and the fierce comfort of Viktor's touch had solidified into absolute steel. Alia had already refreshed and changed. She was wearing an oversized, loose white shirt topstolen right from Viktor's wardrobe, the top two buttons undone, with her golden hair cascading down her shoulders. Her signature lenses were back in place.
Standing near the tall glass windows, she held a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee Shedding the exhaustion of the agency's threats, the brilliant CIA mastermind inside her had fully reawakened. Taking a slow, deliberate sip, a clever smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she whispered to herself in English:
Alia: "Ah, a peaceful morning... and the perfect coffee."
Right at that moment, a soft, respectful knock sounded at the door. The palace's trusted maid, maria stepped into the suite holding a polished silver tray. On it rested the latest morning international newspapers and highly secured encrypted mail. Bowing gracefully, Moriya spoke with her signature politeness:
Moriya: "Good morning, Ms. Aliya. The morning papers and mail."
Alia lowered her coffee mug slightly, locking her sharp, calculated gaze onto the documents. In her calm, commanding tone, she responded:
Alia: "Thank you. You can place on the desk."
Moriya bowed once more, placed the files and newspapers meticulously onto the dark mahogany desk, and quietly exited the room. Alia stepped closer to the desk, knowing fully well that beneath those morning papers lay the tactical coordinates for the 100 international syndicates and the first real lead on whoever framed her ex-boyfriend.
Just then, Viktor walked into the room from his private training quarters, his messy white hair shifting slightly, his striking white eyelashes framing ice-blue eyes that locked onto her instantly. Seeing her wearing nothing but his own white dress shirt, his signature, deeply possessive smirk returned to his lips. Just as Alia was about to step toward the morning mail and files on the desk, Viktor closed the distance between them with slow, rhythmic strides. He was dressed in comfortable casual trousers and a lightweight black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. In the soft morning sunlight, his messy white hair and ice-blue eyes carried a rare, calm depth.
As Alia walked slowly toward the wide glass window with her coffee mug, Viktor fell into step right beside her, walking with her in perfect synchronicity Looking at the serene atmosphere and Alia looking absolutely breathtaking in his oversized white dress shirt, a soft, clever smirk played on the Sovereign's lips. Turning her gently to face him, he spoke in a low, captivating baritone:
Viktor: "Wait, I'm already here. I needed a moment... and you were right, it is peaceful."
Viktor glanced past the panes at the sprawling green estate of the Dark Palace, his gaze past his lenses tracing her features once more. His signature, dangerous smirk widened just a fraction, deeply amused by her raw, domestic elegance. He murmured under his breath:
Viktor: "Ah, so this is her morning... quite a difference from the ballroom."
Finding Viktor in her private sanctuary so early in the morning caught Alia slightly off guard, but a beautiful, clever smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Taking another slow sip of her coffee, she tilted her head, her sharp eyes locking onto his past her frames as she countered:
Alia: "Victor? You're early... and you found my spot."
Viktor stepped impossibly closer, until the warmth of his breath was brushing against her skin. Locking his striking, snowy-lashed frozen blue eyes onto hers, he let out a low chuckle. With all the absolute arrogance and supreme confidence of the King of Russia, he whispered darkly:
Viktor: "I find many things I'm not looking for."
The profound weight behind Viktor's words wasn't lost on the elite CIA mastermind. Just as he had effortlessly mapped out her secret peaceful spot, Leaving the romantic morning warmth of Viktor's embrace behind, Alia slipped into her signature black tactical suit, adjusted her lenses, and breached the high-security perimeter of the Russian CIA field office.
Walking straight into the Chief's glass-paneled corner office, she threw herself into the leather chair, leaning back against the headrest with absolute, commanding confidence The domestic fatigue was entirely gone; the lethal, calculating mastermind was fully back. Restoring her cold authority, she locked her gaze onto the Chief and spoke firmly.
Alia: "This mission briefing is critical. Analysis complete. I need to brief the Director."
Sensing the sharp shift in her demeanor, the Chief slid a classified surveillance photograph across the mahogany table and noted grimly
Chief: "No clear faces... it's like they've been erased."
Alia adjusted her frames, her sharp eyes scanning the distorted pixels on the sheet. Tilting her head, she questioned the Chief with an icy precision.
Alia: "Do you recognize any of these faces in the operational area?"
The Chief sighed, shaking his head helplessly at the high-level encryption.
Chief: "I can't make them out... too blurred."
Hearing his complete lack of leverage, Alia picked up the document and let out a low, deeply cynical chuckle She knew instantly that Anashia or whoever hacked his network had systematically wiped their digital footprint. Tossing the photo back onto the desk, her voice flared with an elite operative's boiling frustration and biting sarcasm.
Alia: "Wait, do I have to kill 100 psychopaths? I already told you last time, I've retired from the CIA. You guys are always on my back! Seriously, can't I just have my morning coffee in peace? This isn't part of the deal anymore."
Standing up from her chair, her posture shifted into one of absolute, unyielding grit (determined). Stepping directly into the Chief's personal space, she slammed her hands on the table and repeated her definitive stance with a lethal undercurrent.
Alia: "Wait, so I have to kill 100 psychopaths? I already told you last time, I've retired from the CIA. You guys are always on my back! Seriously, can't I just have my morning coffee in peace? This isn't part of the deal anymore."
The entire briefing room fell into a dead silence under the weight of her declaration. But the master mastermind knew that to protect her peace, her five children, and her sanctuary under Viktor's sky, she would have to unmask those 100 blurred faces on her own terms. Following the intense confrontation at the CIA bureau, Alia wasted no more time. She knew with absolute clarity that if she wanted to enjoy her morning coffee in peace, she would have to eliminate this syndicate shadow permanently. Steeling her focus, Alia reached back and deftly tied her hair into a tight, secure bun to ensure it wouldn't interfere with her movements during combat. Next, she removed her clear frames and slipped in a pair of striking, vibrant blue contact lenses . In the underworld, Alia was legendary for her master-class ability to slip into completely different disguises and alter her appearance effortlessly today, these icy blue eyes gave her the chilling persona of a cold-blooded assassin.
When Alia arrived at the designated combat zone, she stood ready. Before her sharp blue gaze, the monstrous, heavily armed psychopaths began approaching her, blending into the crowd by dressed like completely normal, everyday civilians But their camouflage didn't last long; within seconds, they revealed their true intentions, and every single one of them was clutching a massive, razor-sharp hunting knife
But against the unmatched prowess of this former CIA mastermind, they stood absolutely no chance. Utilizing her elite close-quarters tactical skills, Alia delivered such a brutal, merciless thrashing with her own blade that the entire perimeter was instantly painted in a crimson bloodbath! Under the flawless precision of her strikes, the psychopaths dropped like flies. By the time her lethal storm passed, almost all of them were dead, while a few lay heavily wounded and groaning across the concrete floor.
Right then, Alia was suddenly struck with absolute shock Emerging slowly through the settling dust and smoke of the slaughterhouse was none other than Viktor himself!
As it turned out, this entire high-stakes 100-man operational blueprint was actually a deeply orchestrated trap from the inside The Sovereign of Russia had arranged this massive test because he wanted to personally verify if Alia's elite instincts and combat reflexes were still as sharp as ever after her retirement
Realizing that she had been lured into a dangerous, calculated setup by her own husband, Alia flared with a wave of intense, dangerous anger . But the toxic, possessive, and dark romantic chemistry between these two was so extraordinarily twisted that, within a fraction of a second, their mutual frustration dissolved, and they both looked at each other and shared a deeply mysterious, knowing smile
Viktor locked his crystalline, ice-blue eyes framed by his striking white eyelashes and white eyebrows directly onto her artificial blue gaze. Adjusting his signature, clever glasses with a slow, deliberate movement of his hand his lips curved into that familiar, devilish smirk as he spoke in a low, aristocratic baritone:
Viktor: "I've been waiting for you, little minx."
Alia effortlessly flipped her blood-stained knife in her hand before planting the blade firmly into a nearby wooden table. Narrowing her piercing blue eyes at the Russian monarch, a beautiful, sharp, and clever smirk spread across her own lips as she purred back:
Alia: "Oh, you don't say? How delightful! You've made quite a mess."