What Viktor did next surpassed even the wildest reaches of Alia's imagination, despite her immense inner strength. Alia expected physical assault or trauma things she had endured before. But Viktor chose a path of profound, psychological cruelty.
Instead of attacking her, Viktor suddenly became eerily calm. He knelt before her and pulled a syringe from his pocket. Alia's eyes widened; she fought with everything she had, but her strength was no match for Viktor's iron grip. With clinical precision, he injected a drug into her vein.
Viktor: (In a voice as calm as poison) "I won't kill you, Alia. Death is too peaceful. I'm taking you to a place where you can neither wake nor sleep."
Within seconds, Alia's body began to go numb. Her limbs turned to stone, yet her consciousness remained piercingly awake. She could see and hear, but she had lost all control over her physical self. This was her greatest fear—helplessness.
Then came the unthinkable. Viktor dragged a large mirror and placed it directly in front of her. He propped her head up so she was forced to stare at her own reflection. Using a sharp blade, he slowly shredded her silk nightdress into ribbons without even touching her skin.
He left her there l stripped and paralyzed and began to smear the blood from his own shirt across her skin.
Viktor: "From now on, every time you look in the mirror, you will remember that you belong to me. No scream, no protest of yours will ever reach anyone again. You will exist, but you will have no presence."
Alia wanted to scream, to spit in his face, but her lips wouldn't move. Only silent tears tracked through the blood on her cheeks. She realized Viktor hadn't killed her; he had entombed her in a 'living coffin.' Even a woman as strong as Alia felt her spirit shatter she realized Viktor's cruelty was a thousand times deeper than she had ever feared. Viktor began unbuttoning his blood-stained shirt, one by one. Every movement was slow, making the atmosphere even more suffocating. He tossed the shirt into a corner. His muscular, well-built physique still had streaks of blood in several places, making him look like some violent deity of the darkness.
Then, he slowly unbuckled his belt and removed his pants. Alia's body was still paralyzed on the floor from the drugs, but her eyes were wide open. She was forced to witness Viktor's absolute madness. With nothing but a pair of predatory eyes, Viktor leaned over her.
The temperature in the room seemed to rise by several degrees. Alia could feel the searing heat of Viktor's body against her numb skin. She realized that tonight, Viktor wasn't just giving her a taste of mental hell he was about to claim her physically in a way that left no escape.
Viktor exhaled a hot breath near Alia's ear.
Viktor: (In a very low voice) "You called me a beast, didn't you? Tonight, I will give you ownership of that very beast. I will break your indomitable soul with my own hands."
Viktor lowered his heavy frame onto her. Alia had no strength to push him away. She could only sense the pungent smell of his sweat mixed with blood. In the dim light, a demonic triumph played across Viktor's face. In that dark room, the greatest tragedy of the Petrov empire reached its absolute climax. In that silent room, only the ticking of the clock and Viktor's heavy breathing could be heard. Although Alia's body was paralyzed by the drug, her nerves were painfully sharp. When Viktor surrendered his full weight onto her and united with her, it wasn't an act of love—it was a brutal assertion of absolute possession.
Viktor buried his face in the crook of Alia's neck and let out a long, deeply tortured groan of satisfaction— "Ahhhhh..."
There was a sense of demonic pleasure in his voice, mixed with a profound melancholy. He crushed Alia against him as if he wanted to break her bones and seep into her very soul. Every cell of Alia's paralyzed body felt the searing heat of Viktor's skin and sweat. She couldn't move, but silent tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking Viktor's shoulder.
Every movement of Viktor's was violent and reckless, as if he were pouring out thirteen years of accumulated hate and love all at once. Alia's numb lips trembled, but no sound came out.
Viktor: (Breathlessly against her ear) "You can't run now, Alia... from now on, every breath you take will have my name written on it. You are the Queen of my darkness, and I am the King of your destruction."
The room was filled with a suffocating madness. Viktor's groan echoed in every corner of the room, sounding like a declaration of Alia's defeat. On that cursed night in the Petrov Palace, a dark and extreme chapter of power was written, where a strong woman's soul remained trapped within the cage of her own body.Viktor pressed his lips firmly against the side of Alia's neck. His kisses weren't soft at all; they carried a primal thirst. He bit into the soft skin of her neck, leaving behind dark crimson marks.
As Viktor kissed her neck like a madman, his hot breath spread like fire across her paralyzed body. He grazed his lips just below her ear, whispering in a low tone.
Viktor: (Deeply and breathlessly) "You are mine... only mine. Each of these marks will bear witness to who you belong to."
Then, Viktor gripped Alia's chin firmly with one hand and forced her face toward his. He pinned her numb hands above her head against the counter. Alia's eyes were blurring with a mixture of trance and humiliation.
Viktor increased the intensity of his movements. Alia's limp body merely jolted with every thrust. Viktor then crushed his lips against hers a brutal, possessive kiss. He seemed intent on drawing her very last breath into himself.
The room was filled with the sounds of extreme madness. Viktor's demonic love and Alia's silent tears merged into one. Viktor eventually rested his head against her chest, trying to feel her heartbeat, which was thumping like a violent storm.
The cursed room of the Petrov Palace stood witness today to the defeat of an invincible woman and the sinister celebration of a ruthless ruler.At that exact moment, when the madness inside the room was at its peak, three loud thuds struck the door from the corridor outside. The sound shattered the silence of the room like glass.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Every muscle in Viktor's body tensed instantly. He shifted his weight off Alia and listened intently. From the other side of the door came a deep, heavy voice—a voice that made a cold shiver run down even Viktor's spine.
Viktor's Father (Petrov Senior): (In an extremely grave and commanding tone) "Viktor! Open the door. I know you are in there."
The demonic red glow in Viktor's eyes immediately turned into alert caution. His father! The true mastermind of this empire, the man behind the start of that cursed night thirteen years ago. His sudden arrival at midnight was never a good sign.
Viktor glanced at the floor for a moment. Alia lay there, still semi-conscious from the drugs, her body marked by Viktor's blood and the signs of their struggle. Opening the door in this state meant exposing his weakness.
Viktor: (Trying to steady his voice and shouting) "Father? Why are you here at this hour? I'm... a bit busy."
Petrov Senior: (Not one to be deterred) "News of your 'business' has reached my ears, Viktor. What you are doing to your daughter and your wife has crossed the palace walls. I won't hear any excuses. Open the door now, or I'll be forced to have the men break it down."
Grit teeth, Viktor dragged Alia onto the bed and hurriedly pulled on his pants and shirt. His hands were trembling whether from rage or fear, he didn't know. Meanwhile, a faint glimmer of hope appeared in Alia's eyes. She couldn't move, but she knew that her father-in-law's arrival might grant her a temporary escape from Viktor's hell. Or perhaps, her fate was about to be transferred from one devil to an even greater one.
The entire palace was eerily still. The shadow of the old man standing behind the door crept into the room like an ominous omen.