Zhekha's eyes were filled with a mix of shock and pure terror. Hearing Viktor's demonic roars as he was led down the corridor made Zhekha shudder. He spun around toward Alia and grabbed her hand firmly.
Zhekha: (In an agitated voice) "What have you done, Alia? You handed over your own husband like this? Have you completely lost your mind?"
Alia walked slowly toward the window. She watched the snow falling outside, her face devoid of any regret. She calmly wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye.
Alia: "The scales of sin had become too heavy, Zhekha. There was no other way."
Zhekha shouted again, deep lines of worry etched across his forehead.
Zhekha: "Is your brain completely fried, Alia? Do you even realize who you're messing with? He is a Russian Mafia Lord! His network is spread across the entire globe. These handcuffs, this jail—none of this can hold him for long. He could break out at any moment, and when he does, you will be his very first target!"
Alia finally turned to look at Zhekha. A mysterious, faint smile played on her lips.
Alia: (In an unwavering voice) "I know, Zhekha. I know he will return. And I also know that my game of vengeance will not be complete until he does. It's not a prison that will stop him; it's the death trap I have built with my own hands."
Zhekha stood frozen, staring at her. He realized that Alia hadn't just gotten Viktor arrested she had declared an all-out war. It was a war where love and hate were both thirsty to drink each other's blood.Zhekha began slapping his forehead with both hands in a state of true, unadulterated panic. The terror etched onto his face revealed just how deeply he understood the extent of Viktor's power. He started pacing the room restlessly, lamenting in a voice full of dread.
Zhekha: (Wailing) "Oh god! Oh god! What have you done, Alia? How can I make you understand whose skin you've just touched? Have you forgotten that he isn't an ordinary human? He is the 'King of Predators', the king of lust, the king of darkness!"
Zhekha didn't stop; he grabbed Alia by the shoulders and shook her violently, as if trying to wake her from a dream.
Zhekha: "You know very well that even the government doesn't dare cross him! High-ranking ministers and bureaucrats move at his beck and call. The law and the courts are mere toys in his hands! The one you've thrown into an iron cage is actually a starved lion. When he breaks out of that cage, your CIA ID card won't be enough to save you!"
Alia slowly pried Zhekha's hands off her. There was no trace of fear on her face, only a strange, unsettling stillness.
Alia: "Zhekha, you fear him because you have seen his power. I hate him because I have endured his poisonous nature within my own body. The government may fear him, but today, I have finally conquered that fear."
Zhekha lowered his head and let out a long, heavy sigh. He knew that Alia's stubbornness might one day be the very reason for all their deaths. Zhekha's voice suddenly dropped to a low, heavy rasp. The frantic terror in his eyes had been replaced by a dark shadow of soul-crushing guilt. He pulled his hands away from Alia's shoulders and walked toward a crystal decanter in the corner of the room. With trembling hands, he poured himself a glass and stood facing the window, his back to her.
Zhekha: (In a shattered voice) "Alia... you think you know everything. But the story of those three hours is less about you and more about a reality far more terrifying. Today, I'm going to tell you the 'rape story' that isn't yours... it belongs to another girl."
Alia's brow furrowed, her entire body tensing like a coiled spring. Zhekha took a sharp sip from his glass and continued.
Zhekha: "That day, for some reason, I decided to check the VIP room. I thought it was just some ordinary party. But the sound of weeping coming from behind that door... it didn't sound human. When I peered inside..."
Zhekha paused for a moment, as if the scene were still vividly playing out before his eyes.
Zhekha: "I saw that Viktor wasn't alone. They had brought someone in there who made my blood run cold. You think Viktor only destroyed you? No, Alia... that day in the VIP room, in his sheer arrogance of power, Viktor was obliterating the life of a girl whom neither I nor Margaret had the power to save. You fought back, but that girl... she just lay there, broken, like a discarded doll."
A deep crease appeared on Alia's forehead. She couldn't grasp who Zhekha was referring to.
Alia: "Who are you talking about, Zhekha? Who was that girl? And why did Viktor do that to her?"
Zhekha: (Turning back to look at Alia) "If you knew the identity of that girl, you would burn this entire Frost Fortress to the ground right now. Viktor isn't just a Mafia Lord; he is part of a demonic agenda. And that VIP room... that was just the beginning of the plan." Alia abruptly cut off the conversation, showing a sudden lack of interest in Zhekha's revelation. "Drop it, Zhekha," she said nonchalantly. She claimed she was exhausted from the night's drama and needed to wash off the "filth" of the evening. Ignoring the gravity of the "other girl's" story, she told Zhekha to handle the tactical team and bid him a cold "Bye," saying she would see him at headquarters the next morning. As the bathroom door slammed shut, Zhekha was left alone with a secret that Alia seemingly refused to face for now.Three days later. Instead of the opulent bedroom at "Moroznaya Krepost," there were only grey concrete walls and the sound of iron bars. Alia stood outside the dark chamber of the high-security prison. She was no longer wearing her silk gown; instead, she donned a black CIA leather jacket, her eyes reflecting a strange, icy stillness.
As the heavy iron door opened with a rasping creak, a different Viktor was revealed. His expensive suit was gone, replaced by prison garb. Yet, his aura of nobility and the demonic fire in his eyes remained undimmed. He had been staring at the sky through a tiny barred window, but at the sound of Alia's footsteps, he turned slowly.
Alia: (With a sliver of a poisonous smile) "How does it feel, Viktor? Managing to settle into this tiny cage after ruling your own empire?"
Viktor said nothing. He simply stared at Alia, his steel-blue eyes like a dormant volcano that could erupt at any second. Looking at the file in Alia's hand, he took a step forward.
Viktor: (In a deep, calm voice) "Three days... it took you three days to face me? Were you afraid, Alia? Or were the memories of those three hours keeping you from sleeping at night?"
Alia moved closer to the bars. There was no fear in her eyes now, only the cold triumph of victory. She slowly placed the file on the table.
Alia: "Afraid? No, Viktor. I spent these three days dismantling your 'puppet' friends' network. The game Zhekha and Margaret started I have written the ending. I've come to give you one last chance."
Viktor suddenly burst into a hollow, haunting laugh that echoed through the prison corridor.
Viktor: "A chance? You're giving me a chance? Alia, you forget I am the kind of tiger that only grows more vicious when caged. Have you forgotten the vow I made three days ago? I will teach you what it means to weep tears of blood."
Alia pulled a small recorder from her pocket. As she pressed play, Zhekha's broken voice filled the cell recounting the story of that other girl. Viktor's face changed instantly. His jaw tightened, and the veins in his forehead bulged.
Alia: "Who was that girl, Viktor? For whom did you build that Frost Fortress? Was it Anna? Or is there another hidden sin?"
Viktor struck the iron bars with a deafening blow. The entire cell shuddered from the impact.
Viktor: "Alia! Don't you dare mention Anna's name! You have no idea what kind of fire you are playing with. The CIA won't be able to save you when I get out of here."
Alia didn't say another word. She simply turned around. At the door, she looked back one last time and said
Alia: "Forget about getting out, Viktor. Because tonight, your 'so-called' friends aren't sending people to break you out they're sending them to silence you forever. Goodbye, Then Alia suddenly turned around again. Viktor. stands behind the glass of a high-tech detention center. He is wearing a black shirt, a dragon tattoo etched on his neck, and that familiar confident gaze in his eyes. His hands are encased in black gloves, as if he is perpetually ready for action. On the other side of the glass stands Alia Islamova, motionless. Her calm expression and the mysterious smile in her eyes make it difficult to tell who truly holds control over this situation.
With a crooked smirk directed at Alia Victor asks, "How does it feel to see your husband caged, Alia ? Quite satisfying, I imagine, isn't it?"
Behind his words lies an old conflict and a deep, simmering tension. Aliaoffers no verbal reply; only a faint smile lingers on her lips a smile that hints at a thousand unspoken words and a secret understanding. For Victor, this prison and these glass walls are merely a superficial layer. He reminds her, "The cage is only a state of mind, Alia"Then the two of them smiled mysteridously.