Nine hours had passed.
For nine relentless hours, Lilith (Mahira) had remained standing upon one leg before the sacred idol of Goddess Durga. Her eyes stayed gently closed, her breathing slow and steady despite the punishment her body had endured. The freezing rain had long soaked through her crimson attire, while the cold mountain wind lashed against her skin without mercy.
Not once had she complained.
Not once had she lowered her foot.
Not once had she broken her devotion.
Behind her, Nikolai never moved.
He had stood watch over her every second.
His sharp eyes never left her trembling figure.
He could already see her strength fading.
Her breathing had become uneven.
Her shoulders were shaking.
The color had nearly disappeared from her face.
Yet she refused to surrender.
A few moments later, her exhausted body finally gave in.
Her balance slipped.
She began falling backward.
Nikolai reacted instantly.
Within a heartbeat, he rushed forward, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist before she could hit the stone floor.
"I got you, Bambi…" Nikolai said softly.
Lilith slowly shook her head.
Before either of them could speak again—
BOOM!
A deafening crack of thunder split the heavens.
The temple trembled.
The mountains echoed.
Lilith slowly opened her eyes.
Her golden gaze looked toward the storm.
"Take me outside… Nikolai…" she whispered weakly.
"Bambi… you're weak. You need rest or you'll get a cold," Nikolai replied gently.
"Please… just do it," she whispered.
Nikolai sighed.
"As you wish."
Without another word, he carefully lifted her into his arms.
He carried her down the temple steps.
Outside—
Everyone was already gathered beneath the rain.
The elders.
The priests.
The Red Order.
The devotees.
Every eye turned toward Lilith.
Nikolai slowly lowered her onto the soaked stone courtyard.
"Bambi…" he whispered.
Tsillah watched closely.
"She is going to awaken soon."
"I can feel it."
Luize nodded.
"Me too."
Lilith slowly walked toward the center of the ancient courtyard.
Her bare feet stepped across the cold stone.
She stopped.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Another bolt of lightning tore across the black sky.
Without warning—
Lilith released a scream.
A powerful scream.
It echoed through the mountains like the cry of an eagle soaring across endless skies.
The sacred temple bells suddenly began ringing.
Louder.
Harder.
Faster.
The vibrations filled every corner of the temple.
Sohan stood frozen.
He watched his daughter.
The daughter he had once dreamed would live a peaceful…
Happy…
Ordinary life.
Instead—
She stood before the Goddess becoming something he had prayed she would never become.
Nikolai silently folded his hands behind his back.
Rain continued falling.
Nearby—
Lily (Mihu) quietly stepped into the rain.
She closed her eyes.
Then—
She began performing Garba.
Lilith (Mahira) stood barefoot before the ancient temple.
Her hands pressed together in Namaste.
Her eyes remained peacefully closed.
The bells echoed through the sacred grounds.
The temple drums became louder with every heartbeat.
She slowly bowed before Goddess Durga.
Her forehead lowered in complete humility.
Complete surrender.
Complete devotion.
She slowly raised her head.
Her expression held unwavering faith.
Strength.
Determination.
She stepped gracefully toward the right.
Her left foot followed.
She softly clapped.
Again—
She stepped.
Again—
She clapped.
Her movements flowed perfectly with the sacred rhythm.
She repeated every movement toward the left.
Never once allowing her attention to leave the Goddess.
She circled the sacred altar.
Every clap became an offering.
Every breath became a prayer.
Every movement became worship.
Her graceful wrists curved through the air.
Her long hair danced behind her.
Her anklets sang with every step.
Then—
She began spinning.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
One circle.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon—
The spins became heavier.
Faster.
Stronger.
Every powerful rotation carried the weight of her devotion.
Her crimson lehenga bloomed around her like a sacred lotus opening beneath the storm.
The heavy rain drenched her completely.
The violent wind whipped through the temple courtyard.
Thunder crashed endlessly.
Lightning illuminated her figure.
Still—
She never stopped dancing.
Her Garba became fiercer.
Every barefoot step struck the stone with unwavering conviction.
Again—
She spun.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Heavy.
Rapid.
Powerful.
Her soaked clothing swirled around her.
Her jewelry shimmered beneath every flash of lightning.
Her hair became part of the storm itself.
Her eyes never opened.
Tears mixed with the endless rain.
Silently—
She prayed.
She prayed that Goddess Durga would hear her heart.
That her devotion would be accepted.
That her prayer hidden deep inside her soul would finally reach the Divine Mother.
The freezing rain could not stop her.
The roaring wind could not stop her.
The crashing thunder could not stop her.
Every graceful step…
Every clap…
Every spin…
Every breath…
Every heartbeat…
Every movement…
Became a sacred offering.
She danced with complete surrender.
Hoping Goddess Durga would bless her.
Guide her.
Protect her.
Answer the prayer hidden within her soul.
Suddenly—
Lilith threw her head upward.
She released another scream.
No—
It wasn't merely a scream.
It sounded like the roar of a tigress claiming the mountain itself.
The bells exploded into an even louder chorus.
Then—
Something impossible happened.
Everyone stared toward the idol.
The gold offerings placed around Goddess Durga suddenly began moving.
One after another—
Golden stones rolled down the temple steps.
Perfectly aligned.
Like rivers of gold.
"Baba! Look!!" Reyan shouted.
Everyone turned.
Nikolai's eyes widened.
The priests gasped.
The devotees fell silent.
The sacred gold continued rolling down the staircase.
Lilith immediately held open her scarf.
She fell onto both knees before the stairs.
The golden offerings rolled directly into her veil.
Not one missed.
Not one stopped.
Each stone entered her scarf as though guided by an unseen force.
Vajrakali raised both hands.
"Jai Ambe Maa! (Hail Mother Amba!)"
"JAI! (HAIL!)"
The entire temple answered together.
Again she shouted,
"Jai Durga Maa! (Hail Mother Durga!)"
"JAI! (HAIL!)"
The final golden offering rolled gently into Lilith's veil.
Silence followed.
Then—
Rafsan lifted the sacred ceremonial horn.
He blew it with all his strength.
Its deep sound echoed across the mountains.
Nikolai slowly folded his hands before Goddess Durga.
His head bowed respectfully.
He looked toward Lilith.
She had already lost consciousness.
Without hesitation—
He carefully lifted both Lilith and the veil filled with sacred gold into his arms.
He carried her back inside the temple.
Far away—
Mila had already gotten dressed.
She wore a long-sleeved pastel blue dress with an elegant vintage appearance.
A large white Peter Pan collar rested neatly around her neck.
The A-line design flowed gently downward with delicate vertical pleats decorating the chest.
Large puff sleeves ended loosely around her wrists.
A tiny teddy bear embroidery rested on the right side of her chest.
Round blue buttons matched the dress perfectly.
She happily sucked on her blue pacifier.
"Ready?" Enzo asked.
She nodded happily.
At that moment—
Galina walked downstairs.
"I'm ready," she smiled.
Enzo turned.
For a brief second—
Even he paused.
Galina wore a timeless deep wine-red gown.
It looked as though it belonged inside a classic gothic novel or beneath the chandeliers of a secret candlelit ballroom.
Its romantic sweetheart bodice and delicate cap sleeves reflected old-world elegance.
Heavy intricate draping wrapped beautifully around her waist.
The flowing silhouette carried mystery and refinement.
Its elegant sweeping train transformed every step into effortless sophistication.
She looked like the embodiment of an unforgettable rainy evening at the opera.
"Come, baby. Let's go," Galina smiled.
She picked Mila into her arms.
Still sucking her pacifier—
Mila waved toward everyone.
Ethan smiled sadly.
"Mila looks very sad these days."
Zhanna nodded.
"Yeah."
"She misses Brother and Lily a lot."
"They haven't called."
"I hope they're alright."
"Mama… we Mimi Happy?"
Olga smiled.
"Yes."
"I go pick flowers!" Anna shouted.
She immediately ran outside.
Mattie laughed before following her.
Dylan quietly guided them.
North Side of Russia
Three Hours Later
Beyond towering wrought-iron gates stood an immense old-money Russian estate.
Centuries-old pine and birch forests surrounded the property.
Massive stone walls protected the mansion.
The estate had been constructed using pale limestone, white marble and hand-carved granite.
Towering Corinthian columns supported the magnificent façade.
Grand arched windows reflected the cloudy skies.
Intricate stone carvings decorated every wall.
Copper spires crowned the elegant slate roof.
Ancient ivy climbed gracefully across the weathered stone.
Marble fountains flowed peacefully throughout perfectly maintained gardens.
Classical statues overlooked endless rows of white roses.
Trimmed hedges bordered winding pathways.
Ancient oak trees stood proudly around the grounds.
A sweeping circular driveway led visitors toward enormous carved oak double doors beneath a magnificent portico.
Several vintage black luxury vehicles waited quietly outside.
Inside—
Every room reflected generations of inherited wealth.
Not modern extravagance.
True old-money elegance.
Towering ceilings displayed hand-painted frescoes.
Crystal chandeliers imported from Europe sparkled overhead.
Polished walnut, oak and mahogany parquet flooring stretched beneath priceless Persian rugs.
Silk wallpaper covered the walls.
Hand-carved wooden panels stood between gilded family portraits.
A magnificent double staircase curved beneath an enormous stained-glass dome.
Long corridors extended throughout the mansion.
Antique brass sconces illuminated museum-quality paintings.
Rare sculptures and priceless artifacts collected across centuries decorated every hall.
The estate possessed an enormous ballroom filled with towering windows, crystal chandeliers and a grand piano.
An imperial library contained thousands upon thousands of leather-bound books stretching from floor to ceiling.
The formal dining hall featured an enormous table capable of seating dozens beneath glittering chandeliers.
Elegant drawing rooms surrounded marble fireplaces.
Private studies displayed dark mahogany furniture.
A traditional Russian tea room welcomed honored guests.
A luxurious conservatory overflowed with exotic plants.
A private chapel displayed intricate Orthodox-inspired artwork.
The family wing contained handcrafted canopy beds dressed in silk bedding.
Carved wardrobes.
Marble fireplaces.
Private salons.
Walk-in dressing rooms.
Spa-like marble bathrooms featuring clawfoot bathtubs.
Polished brass fixtures.
Heated stone flooring.
Every bedroom overlooked forests…
Lakes…
Gardens…
Or endless snow-covered landscapes.
Hidden beneath the estate rested discreet wine cellars.
Private tasting rooms.
Secure vaults.
Meeting chambers.
Secret underground passages.
Outside—
Ornamental lakes reflected the sky.
Stone bridges crossed the calm waters.
Horse stables overlooked riding trails.
Greenhouses flourished beside tennis courts.
Secluded gazebos rested among elegant courtyards where classical music softly echoed during lavish evening gatherings.
Every detail reflected inherited prestige.
Timeless sophistication.
Quiet authority.
The understated elegance associated with generations of old-money Russian aristocracy.
Inside—
Mrs. Pelagia Arsenyev carefully inspected the dining table.
Every dish had been personally prepared.
"They're all his favorites."
"Everything should be perfect," Mrs. Pelagia said.
"Mom, don't worry."
"Brother will like it," her daughter smiled.
"I hope so."
"We wronged him," one of her sons admitted quietly.
Mrs. Pelagia had two daughters—
Eleanor.
Miroslava.
Three sons—
Anatoly.
Evgeny.
Enzo.
Her stepson—
Fyodor.
His sister—
Lyubov.
Only Anatoly and Eleanor were Mrs. Pelagia's biological children with her husband, Mr. Matvey.
From her late husband, she had three children.
"He doesn't have any money."
"We kicked him out long ago," Fyodor scoffed.
"Because you framed him."
"You stole his lover."
"You stole everything from him."
"Now we got it back," Miroslava replied coldly.
Mrs. Pelagia lowered her head.
"Who knows what my baby has gone through…"
Lyubov rolled her eyes.
"Maybe he has money now?"
Eleanor laughed.
"Not possible."
"We threw him out with nothing."
"You never looked back."
"Not once."
Mr. Matvey folded his arms.
"I am glad I dumped him."
"If not…"
"I wouldn't be here."
A woman smiled proudly.
It was Enzo's former girlfriend—
Stefania.
"I got you, babe," Fyodor grinned.
Just then—
A guard hurried inside.
"Madam!"
"Several luxurious cars have just arrived at the mansion."
"Please come."
Everyone walked outside.
Anatoly narrowed his eyes.
"Is it Brother?"
Mr. Matvey laughed loudly.
"No way."
Then—
Fyodor suddenly froze.
"Look, Dad!"
"It's the Bratva Solntsevskaya logo!"
His face lit up.
"We have a deal with them."
"Soon we'll have that ₽4 billion."
"I'll become a billionaire!"
"And I'll be your wife," Stefania smiled.
One after another—
The luxury vehicles stopped.
Armed guards stepped out first.
One guard respectfully opened the rear door of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.
A tiny girl climbed down.
It was Mila.
The guard gently straightened her dress.
She smiled around her blue pacifier.
"All done, Mil."
She hugged him.
"Who is that kid?" Lyubov asked.
Mila happily waddled toward them.
She removed her pacifier.
"Hiii!"
"Me Mil!"
"You Unca Neo?"
"Mama!"
"Come now!"
"He here!"
She excitedly waved both hands.
"Neo?" Eleanor whispered.
"Uh huh," Mila nodded proudly.
Then—
Every member of Bratva Solntsevskaya stepped from the vehicles.
"Hello, Aunt," Sergei smiled warmly.
Mrs. Pelagia froze.
"Sergei?"
"Happy Birthday."
He handed her flowers.
"Thank you."
"Enzo works in your company."
"He didn't come with you?"
Mr. Matvey burst into laughter.
"I knew it."
"He was never fit for this family."
"Maybe he couldn't afford our standards."
Marco smiled.
"Do you know Enzo owns every one of these cars?"
Fyodor laughed.
"Impossible."
"He can't afford anything."
Mila frowned.
"You meanie to Unca Neo."
"Now he come!"
Sergei stepped forward.
"Enzo is a member of Bratva Solntsevskaya."
"He is one of the finest within our organization."
"He is worth more than ₽50 billion."
"People fear him."
"When he walks…"
"The underground bows before our feet."
"They all know him as…"
The Iron Tsar.
"One of our supreme authorities."
"We all hold the highest ranks."
"Even the Boss is impressed by him."
Silence consumed the courtyard.
Mrs. Pelagia trembled.
"M… My son…"
"…is in the Mafia?"
A calm voice answered.
"Yes."
"I am."
Everyone slowly turned.
Standing beneath the gray Russian sky—
Was Enzo.
"Enzo?" Mr. Matvey whispered.
He stood with a soft, messy perm hairstyle.
A perfectly tailored black suit jacket rested over a black button-down shirt.
Black trousers completed the monochromatic ensemble.
Only one detail broke the darkness—
A simple silver necklace peeking from beneath his collar.
The refined style radiated quiet confidence.
Elegant.
Sophisticated.
Effortless.
At 7'2", he towered above everyone.
"E… E… Enzo?" Fyodor stammered.
Enzo looked directly at them.
A slow smirk spread across his face.
He casually chewed his gum.
"Good afternoon…"
"Mrs. Pelagia Arsenyev."
Enzo said calmly.