Back in Rome, the three months were passing like three centuries for Alia. She stayed in Marcos's palace, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. She pretended to comply with Marcos, all while secretly dismantling his security from the inside.
Every night, Marcos would enter her room, his golden cat-like eyes glowing with obsession. He would try to touch her, but Alia would use her cold, Godmother persona to keep him at bay.
Alia: "Three months, Marcos. That was the deal. If you touch me before that, I will kill myself and the child, and you will have nothing but corpses."
Marcos would growl in frustration, licking his lips as he watched her. "I can wait, Alia. But when the clock strikes midnight on the last day, I will show you no mercy."
Alia spent her nights watching over little Marco, who was growing more like Victor every day despite the blood in his veins. She counted the days, praying that Victor would understand her silence. She didn't know that Victor was already across the border, leading an army of shadows toward Rome.The afternoon sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting long, golden shadows across the counter. Alia was focused on the stove, stirring the stew with a calculated rhythm. The silence was suddenly broken as Marcos wrapped his arms around her from behind, his bare, muscular chest pressing firmly against her back.
As Marcos buried his face in the curve of her neck, trailing a slow, burning kiss along her throat, a soft sound escaped Alia's lips—
Alia: "Ummm..."
For a split second, her defenses seemed to melt. It was hard to tell if it was the lingering ghost of their past or a part of the dangerous game she was playing. Marcos tightened his grip, his golden cat-like eyes flickering with a dark triumph. He whispered against her skin, his breath hot and intoxicating.
Marcos: "Does Victor even know how to make you feel like this, Alia? Does he know the fire that hides beneath this cold Godmother exterior?"
Alia composed herself, a mysterious, playful smirk dancing on her lips. she turned slightly in his arms, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of the rose tattoos on his chest. Her touch was light, almost teasing, but her eyes remained unreadable.
Alia: "Don't mention Victor right now, Marcos. And listen... Victor won't come. It's only been two months. The three months are not over yet. He is a man of his word; he won't break the pact. Besides, he's far too busy with his new empire... and his new life."
Marcos pulled her closer, his heart thudding against her ribs. He felt he was finally winning, finally reclaiming what he thought was his.
Marcos: "Do you truly want him to stay away? Or are you just using these three months to trap me in your web?"
Alia: (Whispering into his ear, her voice dropping to a seductive chill) "What I truly want is something you'll only find out when the clock strikes midnight on the final day. Now, let go... I need to finish this. Your son is hungry."
Marcos gave her neck a playful nip and stepped back, laughing darkly. He felt like a king, unaware that Alia's "ummm" wasn't a sign of surrender it was the sound of a predator lures its prey into a trap. She was counting every second until she could burn his world to the ground.Alia was swimming alone in the indoor pool, the crystal-clear water shimmering under the soft lights. She was wearing a blue bikini, looking like a siren in the water. As she stepped out of the pool, droplets of water glistening on her skin, a shadow appeared.
It was Marcos. He moved silently, and before Alia could reach for her towel, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
The contact of his bare chest against her bikini-clad back sent a jolt through her. Marcos locked his hands around her waist and pressed his face into her damp neck, planting a deep, lingering kiss on her throat.
Marcos: (Whispering) "The pool water made you cold, Alia, but your body is still burning like fire. Only I can put out this flame."
Alia shivered. Her wet back was pressed against his muscular frame. Marcos nipped at her shoulder, his golden cat-like eyes glowing with obsession.
Alia: (In a breathless voice) "Marcos... are you forgetting your limits?"
Marcos: (Turning her around to face him) "There were never limits between us, Alia. Victor made you a queen in a cage, but I can give you the sky."
Alia looked into his eyes, seeing the raw hunger there. She knew these final days of the three-month pact would be her greatest test yet.The tension by the pool reached its breaking point. Marcos pulled back from Alia's neck and looked into her eyes with a wicked glint in his golden gaze. Before Alia could react, Marcos pushed her into the water with a sudden force.
The calm water erupted as Alia crashed into it. When she finally surfaced, gasping for air, her wet hair clinging to her face, she saw Marcos diving in after her.
Under the shimmering blue water, a different kind of battle began. Marcos pulled her close, their bodies intertwining beneath the surface. Even with the water blurring everything, their touch was electric and intense.
As Alia tried to surface for air, Marcos gripped her tightly against his chest. Amidst the coolness of the pool, his touch felt like liquid fire.
Marcos: (Whispering underwater) "Today, this blue water will bear witness, Alia. Victor could never conquer you like I do. Today, you are entirely mine."
Alia struggled, but the weight of the water and Marcos's strength made it impossible to pull away completely. He began to claim her with heated kisses, their bodies melding in the depths of the pool. Alia realized she was trapped in a dangerous game was this still an act, or was she falling back into a haunting past?
The pool water felt like it was turning into a sea of red petals, as Marcos's rose tattoos seemed to come alive, binding her to him in that dark, wet embrace.The water in the pool churned violently. Marcos had lost all sense of restraint. He gripped Alia's waist, pulling her flush against him. As she struggled to catch her breath, Marcos suddenly grabbed a handful of her wet hair and yanked it back (Marcos pulls her hair tightly).
Alia's head snapped back, her neck exposed and vulnerable. Tears of pain pricked her eyes, but a strange, dark electricity surged through her body at the same time. Marcos leaned in, his voice a primal growl against her ear.
Marcos: "Victor treats you like a porcelain doll, but I know how to break you."
He sank his teeth into the soft skin of her shoulder. A long, sharp cry escaped Alia's lips—
Alia: "Ahhh... (Ahhh...)"
In the depths of the shimmering blue water, they became one (They unite completely). Alia felt herself sinking into a dark abyss where morality no longer existed. Marcos held her by her hair, pulling her closer and claiming her with a ferocity that was almost animalistic. For a moment, she forgot who she was—was she the powerful Godmother of the Romanovs, or was she just a woman lost in the shadow of her past?
Alia's fingers dug into the rose tattoos on Marcos's back, her nails leaving angry red marks. The splashing water created a blurred veil around them, hiding their sin from the world.
Marcos: (Huskily) "Tell me, Alia... who do you belong to? Tell me you hate him!"
Alia couldn't speak; her words were lost in gasps and the rhythmic splashing of the water. She knew that after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again. Alia's body was flushed deep red from the intensity. She shoved Marcos's hands away with a sudden burst of strength, screaming in Italian: "Basta! Lasciami stare, maledetto!"
Marcos just smirked, whispering a dark "Ummm..." as he watched her fire return.
The next morning, the sunlight was unforgiving. Alia woke up feeling shattered. Seeing the marks on her body in the mirror, she was consumed by a haunting self-loathing. Could she forgive herself? No. She felt she had betrayed the very man she was trying to save.
Standing under the cold shower, she tried to scrub away the feeling of Marcos's touch, her eyes filled with a lethal resolve. She hadn't just lost a battle; she had started a war within herself. In the dimly lit VIP room, Alia sat reclined on a velvet sofa, a glass of red wine in her hand. The alcohol had blurred her senses, making her eyes heavy and her smile enigmatic.
Marcos watched her from the doorway before approaching silently. Alia looked up at him, her gaze lingering on his face as if she were seeing him for the first time.
Alia: (Slurring her words slightly) "Marcos... your eyes... looking into them makes me forget everything."
Marcos leaned down, his face inches from hers. Without warning, Alia pulled him closer and sat on his lap (Alia sits on Marcos's lap), wrapping her legs around him.
Her scent, mixed with the strong aroma of wine, drove him wild. Alia's hands moved to his collar, and with agonizing slowness, she began to unbutton his shirt (Alia starts unbuttoning his shirt).
Marcos: (In a raspy voice) "Alia... are you finally admitting that you belong to me?"
Alia didn't answer. Instead, she traced the red rose tattoos on his bare chest with her nails, sending a shiver through his body. She whispered into his ear, her breath hot against his skin
Alia: "Tonight, there is no Godmother, Marcos. Only a thirsty woman."
The room was filled with a toxic heat. Was Alia truly falling for him