Alia gasped, her voice strained and barely audible as she choked out, "Viktor..." But her desperate plea ignited no mercy in him; if anything, the sound of her voice only fueled his savagery. He yanked the belt even harder, causing Alia to collapse backward onto the mattress, gasping for air as her vision began to blur.
Viktor threw her down, pinning her to the bed with cold, clinical precision. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small syringe. With a steady hand, he pressed the plunger just enough to let a few droplets of the clear liquid escape, ensuring no air bubbles remained in the needle. The fluid hit the floor with a tiny, ominous sound. Viktor's eyes were filled with a chilling, calculated cruelty as he loomed over her, clearly having finalized his plan to subjugate her completely.
Alia realized with a jolt of terror that Viktor was no longer interested in mere physical retribution; he was intent on administering something that would shatter her body or mind beyond repair. The only sound in the suffocating silence of the room was the heavy, rhythmic thrumming of Viktor's breathing. Without a moment's hesitation, Viktor plunged the needle into Alia's skin. As she tried to scream out in a mixture of pain and terror, Viktor swiftly slammed his palm over her mouth, stifling her voice completely. Her body, limbs thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape, trembled helplessly beneath his weight.
Viktor locked his gaze onto hers, watching as the strength slowly drained from her eyes, replaced by a dull, hazy expression. Though Alia fought to make one final movement, her resistance crumbled as the fluid from the injection surged through her bloodstream. The pressure of Viktor's hand over her mouth threatened to suffocate her, turning the scene in the dim light of the VIP room into something truly nightmarish. Viktor's cruelty reached a terrifying new level. With a single, savage motion, he tore the upper part of Alia's dress open and ripped the ribbon off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Alia lay there, half-exposed and utterly helpless on the bed, her eyes burning with a mixture of profound hatred and humiliation.
Viktor then stepped closer, each movement radiating a cold, chilling sense of dominance. He methodically undid the buttons of his own shirt, casting a dark shadow over his muscular frame. Then, he unzipped his trousers, filling the room with an atmosphere of stifling, suffocating dread. He seemed to have reached the final stage of exerting his total control over her, a realm where mercy had long ceased to exist. Every move Viktor made was calculated and commanding. He gripped both of Alia's hands firmly, bringing their conflict to a final, intense crescendo. In the heat of this encounter, as Viktor was consumed by his own overwhelming intensity, a sudden movement from Alia caused him to feel a sharp sting of pain. Unwillingly, a soft, "Oops, easy," escaped his lips—a fleeting moment where the man behind the cruel, cold mask felt the sting of vulnerability.
This moment serves as a strange turning point in their volatile relationship—where hatred, rage, and physical intimacy have blurred into one. Alia, who until now had been completely helpless, seems to have sensed this glimpse of Viktor's weakness through that singular moment of pain. Alia froze for a moment. Despite the inhuman cruelty in Viktor's eyes, she reached out to gently touch his cheek, as if a part of her still clung to the connection they once shared. But Viktor immediately swatted her hand away with brutal force, as if her touch were poisonous.
Alia gasped in pain, her knuckles white as she gripped the bedsheets with both hands. A long, pained moan escaped her lips—"Ahhhhh!" Amidst the storm of terror and confusion raging in her heart, she looked up at him, her voice trembling as she asked, "Viktor, have you gone mad?"
Viktor stood still, locking his gaze with hers. He seemed genuinely stunned by the intensity of his own actions. Alia's desperate question and the tears in her eyes seemed to tear a massive rift in the wall of his madness and cruelty. He looked down at his own hands in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the depth of what he was doing.Viktor stood there, completely stunned. He was certain that the injection would have rendered Alia unconscious, but instead, he saw her flash a mysterious, cunning smile. Then, with a playful wink, Alia signaled that she had been playing a dangerous game all along.
That wink and the smile snapped something inside Viktor. He realized in an instant that Alia had outsmarted him. All of his remaining restraint shattered instantly. Driven by pure, unadulterated obsession, Viktor's savagery escalated tenfold. Before lunging at her, he roared with rage; his eyes no longer held any trace of hesitation, only a hunger for destruction. To Viktor, it was clear: Alia had crossed every line in their battle today, and there was no turning back now.The air in the room was heavy and suffocating. Viktor's dark gaze was fixed on Alia, like a predator circling its final prey. Alia twisted her body to break free, but Viktor pinned her harder against the bedsheets.
Alia was no longer going to surrender. She looked Viktor straight in the eye and said in a chilling, steady voice, "Viktor, do you really think you can claim me through force and cruelty? You're wrong. You might be able to break my body, but my defiance, my hatred—those are things you will never be able to touch."
Viktor froze for a second, his jaw tightening. Alia's challenge struck directly at his pride. Losing control, he leaned down toward her neck, whispering, "I want you, Alia. And when I want someone, it doesn't matter to me if they survive or are destroyed."
A mysterious, cunning smile played on Alia's lips. She mirrored his intensity, refusing to look away. In that moment, the boundaries between love and hate had completely dissolved. Viktor, consumed by madness, sought to shatter every barrier, while Alia stood at the edge of that destruction, daring him to go further. The silence of the room was shattered by the sound of their ragged breathing, pushing the tension to an absolute breaking point. Viktor gripped Alia's chin tightly, as if he wanted his words to be etched into her very consciousness. The pressure of his fingers turned her skin pale, but Alia's gaze remained unwavering.
"Do you really think you can break me?" Alia asked, her voice possessing a strange, steady calm that unnerved Viktor even further. "Every blow, every drop of pain only makes me stronger. You may be able to destroy me, but you never had, and never will have, the power to conquer me."
Viktor remained silent for a moment, his breathing still ragged. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Conquering and destroying—they aren't so different to me anymore. I don't want to break you; I want to keep you as a slave to my will. And I will do whatever is necessary to achieve that."
Alia let out a cold laugh. She knew that Viktor's madness was merely a manifestation of his own deep-seated weakness. She replied slowly, "Then proceed. But remember when you play with fire, it's not just your palms that burn; it's your entire empire that turns to ash."
Viktor, without another word, pressed his full weight down on her, desperate to crush her defiance once and for all. The air in the room grew heavy, thick with the scent of their proximity and the heat of their clashing wills.The frantic storm had finally settled, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Viktor and Alia lay entwined on the bed, their bodies barely covered by the tangled sheets. Viktor's torso was bare, and Alia rested her head against his chest—a scene that resembled a landscape of calm following an intense destruction.
Viktor pulled Alia closer with one arm, while his other hand reached for a cigarette. He lit it and blew a slow plume of smoke toward the ceiling, where it hung like a strange mist in the dim light. As the pungent scent of tobacco hit Alia's nose, her sleepy haze vanished. She lifted her head, looked at Viktor, and suddenly snatched the cigarette from his fingers, bringing it to her own lips. She took a long, sharp drag, looked him dead in the eye, and blew the smoke directly back into his face. That single, defiant gesture seemed to reignite the fire of their obsession and tension once more. Alia looked directly into Viktor's eyes and said in a calm, yet firm voice, "Viktor, stop smoking that cigarette right now." Her tone was not a request, but a command one that momentarily rattled Viktor's volatile mood.
Viktor stared at Alia for a moment, a crooked, cruel smirk playing on his lips. He didn't argue. Instead, he pulled out the metal cutter ring he used for his cigarettes. With slow, precise movements, he sliced the burning cigarette right down the middle. Ash dusted the bedsheets, and he held the severed remains toward Alia, sneering, "I listened to you. Happy now?"
Alia stared at the destroyed cigarette, completely unfazed. Viktor's extreme need for control and his inherent madness seemed to make their dynamic even more twisted and dangerous. Viktor tossed the remains of the cigarette aside and leaned closer to Alia. He asked in a curious, somewhat cruel tone, "What is it, Alia? Anasia—are you thinking about that old life of yours? How is she?"
Alia didn't say a word. She shifted her gaze toward the dark sky outside the window. Hearing the name 'Anasia' made her heart twist in pain. She remained silent, her face clouded with deep melancholy and a strange, hollow void.
Viktor looked into her eyes and understood everything instantly. He knew that this silence was the source of Alia's greatest pain. His gaze turned even colder; he realized that the reason for her gloom wasn't just their current conflict, but some memory from the past that was still eating away at her. Viktor offered no comfort; instead, he gripped her chin, forced her to look at him, and said with a bitter smirk, "Why are you silent? Are you afraid of the past, or of this present you're living with me?" Alia bit her lip and, without looking into Viktor's eyes, said in a low but clear voice, "I divorced him a long time ago, Viktor. That relationship no longer exists."
A wicked, mocking smirk instantly curled on Viktor's lips. He leaned close to her ear and whispered mockingly, "You divorced him? Good for you. But do you really think you're free? Divorce papers might give you freedom from him, but freedom from my grasp is it really that simple?" Viktor continued, his voice laced with a terrifying sense of amusement, "You think you're free just because of a divorce, yet here you are, in my bed, in my clutches. Are you going to stop me with a piece of paper, or are you just trying to excite me even more?"Alia didn't falter in the slightest at Viktor's mockery. She sat up straight, looking at him with a cold, piercing gaze. Her voice held no hesitation, only a stony resolve. She said calmly, "Stop the laughter, Viktor. This isn't the place for your games. We are already married; we were wed a long time ago. Have you forgotten, or are you just playing the fool?"
Viktor's smile vanished instantly. His eyes flared with sudden rage. He snapped back, "Marriage? You're talking about that piece of paper? That's meaningless to me! I claimed you on my terms, under my authority. Don't try to bind me with marriage documents, Alia!"
Alia shouted back, "I'm not trying to bind you! I'm simply reminding you that our connection runs much deeper than your madness or your whims. If you think this is my weakness, then you are making a grave mistake!"