The drama took a sudden turn as the truth about Alia's age was finally revealed. Alia stepped closer to Victor, a mix of relief and exhaustion in her eyes.
Alia: "Victor, everything you heard before—that I was much older—it was all a lie. My grandfather and the family spread that rumor so that the mafia world wouldn't view me as weak. If they knew a woman in her early twenties was ruling as Godmother, the vultures would have circled us instantly. They fabricated my age to protect the throne."
Victor offered a faint, knowing smile. He wasn't shocked at all. He walked to her and placed a grounding hand on her shoulder.
Victor: "I know, Alia. Your grandfather dropped hints to me long ago. I knew that behind this iron 'Godmother' persona, there was a woman in her twenties just trying to survive."
Victor then gestured toward the vast estate visible from the window.
Victor: "Look, Alia. We are both billionaires. We lack nothing—not money, not power. The world is at our feet. So why are you still living in fear? Why are you stressing over these five children alone? We have everything, so why aren't we actually living? Why aren't we enjoying this life instead of just surviving it?"
Alia looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. He was right—they had the wealth of kingdoms, yet they were living like soldiers in a never-ending war.Alia looked into Victor's eyes, her voice trembling not with fear, but with the weight of her heritage.
Alia: "Money cannot buy happiness, Victor. You speak of billions, but you forget who we are. You carry the blood of the Russian Royalty, and my father was a powerful Zamindar (Landlord) of Bengal. Our veins flow with blue blood, yet look at us—we have become mafia lords, living in shadows. When our five children see their parents surrounded by guns and gunpowder instead of peace, do you think they feel royal? No, they feel hunted."
She leaned against him, her voice dropping to a painful whisper.
Alia: "We are billionaires, but our children are fugitives in gilded cages. Can your money erase the fact that my daughter is in love with an enemy just to find a spark of life? We were meant to rule with grace, not with terror."
Victor pulled her into a firm embrace, his chin resting on her head.
Victor: "Then let it be so, Alia. If money can't bring happiness, our royal blood will lead the way. I promise you, these five children will not live as criminals. They will walk like princes and princesses. Whether it's the Romanovs or anyone else no one will tarnish the legacy of a Russian King and a Bengali Queen."The cold "Godmother" facade vanished, replaced by a grieving, regretful mother. Alia walked toward Zarin, whose cheek still bore the crimson mark of the slap. Seeing the silent tears in her daughter's eyes, Alia's heart shattered.
She pulled Zarin into a tight, desperate embrace, as if trying to shield her from the very pain she had caused. Alia kissed Zarin's forehead and cheeks repeatedly, her voice breaking.
Alia: "I'm so sorry, my child... please forgive me. I was just so scared of losing you. This world is cruel, and the Romanovs are vultures. I never wanted to hurt you; I was just trying to protect you."
Zarin clung to her mother, overwhelmed by this rare display of vulnerability. Watching from the side, Victor and Isrovon felt the heavy tension lift. Victor realized that the bond of this family was far more powerful than any billion-dollar empire.
Alia wiped Zarin's tears and whispered, "You are my eldest, the princess of this dynasty. I cannot bear your tears. But we must face the truth about Aryan. Victor is right he must come and prove himself to us."Alia wiped Zarin's tears and gently pulled her back. Her voice had lost its sharpness, replaced by the soft tone of a mother.
Alia: "Alright, that's enough. You two should go now. Zarin, Isrovon go to your rooms. I need to have a serious talk with Victor."
Isrovon nodded respectfully and prepared to leave. But before going, Zarin hugged her mother one more time, closing her eyes in peace as she rested her head on Alia's shoulder.
Zarin: "Miss you mommy... No matter how old I get, I'll always be your little girl."
Alia smiled and patted her back. The eldest daughter is always special to a mother, and after the storm of the slap, their bond felt even deeper. As Zarin left with Isrovon, she gave Victor a look of silent gratitude.
Once the room was quiet again, Alia looked at Victor with an exhausted sigh.
Alia: "You see, Victor? In this fight for legacy and power, my children are the ones who suffer. Now tell me, what are we going to do about Aryan Romanov?" The atmosphere shifted from family drama to raw, undeniable passion. As soon as Isrovon and Zarin stepped out, Alia turned and locked the door (Alia locks the door), shutting out the rest of the world. The room was silent now, save for the echo of their breathing.
Alia walked toward Victor with a predatory grace. All the frustration of the morning—the secrets, the slap, the burden of the empire—transformed into a different kind of intensity. She placed her hands on Victor's broad chest and pushed him back, pinning him against the wall (Alia pins Victor against the wall). Victor, though caught off guard, smirked, enjoying her sudden dominance.
Alia: (Whispering breathlessly) "Forget the politics. Forget the children and the chaos for a moment. Just... be with me, Victor."
She didn't wait for an answer. Her fingers moved to Victor's shirt buttons (Alia starts unbuttoning Victor's shirt), undoing them with a desperate authority. As her skin met the heat of his bare chest, the tension in the room reached a breaking point.
Victor wrapped his powerful arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against his own.
Victor: (Deeply) "I thought the Godmother was in a mood to punish... but I see that fire has turned into something else entirely."
Alia didn't say a word. She simply looked into his eyes and let his shirt slide off his shoulders. At that moment, the war with the Romanovs and the weight of their legacy ceased to exist. There was only the two of them.Victor's restraint finally snapped. As Alia's fingers worked on his buttons, he caught her wrists, pinning them against the wall, and captured her lips in a deep, intense kiss (Victor kisses her deeply).
Alia was caught off guard. Perhaps she had wanted to stay in control of the moment, to lead the dance herself. She tried to pull away (Alia tried to pull away) for a split second, her body instinctively tensing, but she stood no chance against Victor's overwhelming strength and the raw passion of his touch. The heat radiating from his body seemed to melt her resolve instantly.
Alia: (Mumbling against his lips) "Victor... stop... someone might..."
But Victor didn't pull back. He moved his lips to the curve of her neck, whispering in a voice thick with desire, "The door is locked, Alia. Today, I don't want the Godmother. I only want my Alia. No war, no legacy—just us."
Alia's resistance crumbled like a house of cards. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her fingers found their way into Victor's thick hair, pulling him closer. She couldn't move away even if she wanted to; instead, she surrendered completely, melting into his embrace as the world outside the locked door ceased to exist.The scene took an even more intimate turn. Victor swept Alia off her feet, carrying her directly into the washroom (Washroom). This was no ordinary bathroom; it was a masterpiece of marble, chrome, and smart-glass.
In the center sat a massive, sunken bathtub filled with shimmering water. Victor sat down on the ledge and pulled Alia onto his lap (Victor sits her on his lap). The water rippled gently around them, reflecting the golden light of the afternoon.
The most striking feature of the room was the one-way glass walls. From the outside, it was a solid mirror (Outside cannot see inside), but from the inside, they had a crystal-clear view of their vast empire and the sprawling sky.
Alia: (Resting her head on Victor's shoulder as she looked out at the horizon) "Isn't our life just like this glass, Victor? We see everyone, but no one can truly see the real people hidden inside us."
Victor buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. The soft sound of the splashing water and the warmth of her body provided a rare sense of peace. He held her tighter, his hands grounding her.
Victor: "Let the world see the Don and the Godmother. But inside these four walls, I am just your Victor. There are no rules here, and no enemies."
A few droplets of water splashed against them, adding to the sensory intensity of the moment. Looking into Victor's eyes, Alia forgot the chaos of the Romanovs and the burden of her legacy. In this sanctuary of glass and water, they were finally safe from the world.The tension between Victor and Alia reached its peak. In that royal sanctuary of the washroom, where they could see the world but the world couldn't see them, time seemed to freeze.
As Alia sat on Victor's lap, lost in the view, Victor's hand moved decisively toward his zipper (Victor's zipper). The metallic sound of the zip echoed sharply against the marble walls and the sound of the rippling water.
The sudden intensity of Victor's touch sent a shockwave through Alia's senses. As the moment deepened, a soft, breathless gasp escaped her lips—
Alia: "Ahhhhh..."
She closed her eyes tightly, her nails digging into the muscles of Victor's shoulders. Her entire body shivered with an uncontrollable rush of emotion and sensation. The heat from Victor and the cool humidity of the room blended into an overwhelming experience.
Victor: (Whispering deeply into her ear) "Relax, Alia... no one will disturb us today. This time belongs only to us."
Alia couldn't find the words to respond. She simply buried her face deeper into Victor's chest, seeking anchor in his strength. The one-way glass walls stood as silent witnesses to their intimacy. Every thought of the empire, the Romanovs, and their heavy legacy vanished, replaced by the raw, magnetic pull between them.