Anashia had now descended into a state of pure, unbridled ferocity. With a sudden, violent movement, he seized both of Alia's legs, his gym-toned grip acting like iron shackles that rendered her completely immobile. Without a shred of mercy, Anashia began to kiss her bare thighs with a predatory hunger, eventually sinking his teeth in for a deep, painful bite.
Alia let out a sharp cry of agony, but Anashia remained indifferent to her pain. As she looked down through blurred, tear-filled eyes, she noticed the undeniable change in his physique. Anashia's raw manhood was now surging with the intensity of his lust, visibly straining and bulging against his trousers. His entire muscular frame seemed to vibrate with a primal, dangerous energy.
In that moment, a chilling realization washed over Alia there was no escape for her tonight. Before this savage determination and masculine dominance, all her defenses had been shattered into dust. Looking into the depths of Anashia's dark eyes, she understood his true intent: he didn't just want to conquer her body; he wanted to annihilate her spirit.
Outside, the faint sobs of the terrified maids continued, and in the next room, Viktor remained lost in the heavy rhythm of his music. But for Alia, the world had gone silent. Anashia leaned in even closer, his scorching breath hitting her skin like a desert wind. Tonight, the CIA agent was forced to surrender everything to the overwhelming power of the Dragon Lord. Alia remained completely frozen, her body trembling as her eyes were fixed, looking down. At the exact moment their bodies met in a violent and primal union, she could feel the sheer power of Anashia's gym-toned physique overwhelming her entire being.
As Alia looked down at that climactic moment, she saw every muscle in Anashia's athletic frame strained with intensity. This union wasn't just physical desire; it was Anashia's ultimate victory and Alia's absolute, helpless surrender. A long cry of pain and overwhelming sensation escaped her lips, echoing against the cold walls of the room.
Anashia wouldn't let her look away for even a second. He gripped her chin, forcing her face up so she was compelled to look directly into his eyes. His handsome face was a mask of triumphant pride and raw, dark passion.
The room was filled only with their heavy, synchronized breathing and Alia's stifled sobs. In the next room, the music in Viktor's headphones played on no scream from the outside world could break his calculated indifference tonight. Alia's endurance had finally reached its breaking point. As Anashia's monstrous power and predatory dominance completely consumed her, a long, piercing scream tore from her throat—"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Dark Lord!"
The scream was so intense and heartbreaking that it pierced through the thick walls, the closed doors, and even the booming music in Viktor's headphones. Viktor, who had been listening to music with forced indifference, felt the sound strike him like a bolt of lightning. The way she called out "Dark Lord" triggered something deep and dark within his mind.
Viktor froze for a split second. Perhaps a hidden corner of his stone-cold heart shuddered. But the sheer horror of the situation and the weight of Alia's tragic fate became too much to bear. Under the crushing weight of psychological shock and unspoken guilt, the world went black for him. The headphones slipped from his ears, hitting the floor, as he fainted right there on the sofa.
Inside the room, Anashia remained relentless, maintaining his absolute control over Alia. He didn't care about Viktor's collapse or Alia's final plea; a cruel, triumphant smirk remained on his face. Outside, the maids had fallen silent, and a deathly stillness settled over the palace. This dark chapter had written a new, bloody history in the reign of the Dark Lord. A wave of pure terror swept through the palace. Upon hearing Alia's final, soul-crushing scream followed by the sound of something heavy crashing in Viktor's room, the maids could no longer contain themselves. They burst through the doors, rushing into Viktor's study.
They were met with a horrific sight. Their powerful Sir (Viktor) was slumped lifelessly on the sofa, his headphones lying forgotten on the floor. The maids broke into hysterical sobs, throwing themselves toward him, trying to wake him.
"Sir! Sir! Please open your eyes! What has happened?!" they wailed in despair.
While Viktor lay unconscious, the muffled, broken moans of Alia continued to drift in from the adjacent room. The maids were trapped in a nightmare. They glanced frantically between the unconscious Viktor and the closed door where Alia was being held. One of them sobbed to the other, "Madam's screams have stopped, and Sir is unconscious... what will become of us? The Dark Lord will destroy everyone!"
The room echoed with their frantic cries of "Madam... Sir..." but not a single soul had the courage to enter the next room and face Anashia. Inside, Anashia felt the shift in the air; he knew he hadn't just conquered Alia he had crushed Viktor's pride into the very dust.A few moments later, Alia emerged from the room with trembling steps. Her body still bore the brutal marks of Anashia's dominance. She was struggling to fix her disheveled nightdress with shaking hands, her fingers barely able to grasp the thin silk. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes were swollen and bloodshot from crying, yet they held a haunting, empty stare.
Leaning against the wall for support, she made her way to the entrance of Viktor's room. She froze for a second, witnessing the chaos and the maids' frantic sobbing. Seeing the powerful Viktor slumped lifelessly on the sofa made her heart skip a beat.
In a broken, barely audible whisper, she called out, "Viktor..."
There was no anger in her voice, only a profound, hollow despair. She stumbled toward him, forgetting her own physical agony for a moment. The very man who had ignored her screams by turning up his music was now lying defeated.
Alia reached out with a trembling hand, touching Viktor's pale face. A single tear escaped her eye and fell onto his cheek. The maids, seeing Alia's shattered state, buried their faces in their hands, sobbing uncontrollably. They realized that tonight, it wasn't just bodies that were broken every bond within this palace had been turned to ash. As Alia stood close to Viktor, her entire body felt numb with pain. She looked down at his pale, unconscious face and called him by his full, formal name—something she rarely did.
"Viktor Alexeyevich..."
That name carried the weight of power, nobility, and the dominance of a vast mafia empire. But today, the man behind that name lay helplessly on the sofa. Alia collapsed onto her knees on the floor. Her disheveled nightdress and the bruises forming on her skin remained silent witnesses to the savage night she had just endured.
Alia took Viktor's hand in hers; it was cold as ice. She began to whisper in a broken voice:
"This is what you wanted, isn't it, Viktor? You wanted to see me shattered? Your wish has come true today. But why are your eyes closed? Wake up, Viktor... your silence is hurting me more than the pain."
The maids stood at a distance, watching as a CIA agent forgot all her pride to shed tears for a russian Mafia lord. The atmosphere in the room was thick with a haunting stillness. Anashia had not yet emerged from the other room, as if he were savoring this destruction from afar.
The fall of Viktor Alexeyevich and the ultimate sacrifice of Alia marked the beginning of a new, dark tragedy within the walls of that Russian palace. Viktor slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred as if he were waking from a horrific nightmare. As consciousness returned, he saw Alia sitting on the floor right in front of him. Seeing her shattered state—her swollen eyes, her bruised skin, and her disheveled dress—sent a sharp pang of guilt through Viktor's heart.
When Alia saw that Viktor had finally opened his eyes, she let out a momentary sigh of relief, hiding her own agony. She quickly regained her composure and shouted at the trembling maids:
Alia: "What are you standing there for? Bring some water Hurry! Look at the state he's in! Go!"
The maids scrambled to bring a glass of water at her command. Alia turned back to Viktor, her voice softening, though the underlying pain was impossible to mask. She placed her hand on his forehead, whispering—
Alia: "Let me see... what happened to you? Why did you do this to yourself, Viktor? Why did you let this happen?"
Viktor could only stare at her blankly. He tried to speak, but no words came out. His ears were still ringing with her final scream and the name "Dark Lord." The very CIA agent he had intended to use for his own gain was now showing him a level of care that made Viktor Alexeyevich's pride crumble into nothingness.Anashia entered the room with slow, deliberate steps. A look of demonic satisfaction danced in his eyes, and a twisted smirk remained on his lips. He cast a contemptuous glance at the weakened Viktor, silently declaring his total victory in tonight's dark game.
Without a word, Anashia reached down and suddenly picked Alia up in his arms. Alia's body winced in pain from her bruises, but she lacked the strength to resist the iron grip of his muscular, gym-toned frame.
Viktor, who had just regained consciousness, watched as Anashia practically snatched Alia away right before his eyes. But a strange, cold indifference washed over him. He stared with a hollow gaze, his lips sealed shut. No protest, no anger. Alia looked at Viktor one last time with pleading eyes, but he simply looked away.
As Anashia headed toward the door with Alia in his arms, he paused and looked back at Viktor. In a deep, mocking tone, he said:
Anashia: "Good luck, Viktor. Enjoy the rest of your night alone."
As Alia was carried out, trapped in Anashia's embrace, Viktor remained staring blankly at the ceiling. The expensive headphones still lay on the floor, much like the trust and dignity that had been crushed into the dust this night.