Sofia's voice underwent a sudden, haunting transformation. As her fingers traced the contours of Dimitri's exposed, muscular chest and his defined six-pack abs, she began to hum a melody that cut through the tension. It was the famous song by Kehlani—"Gangsta"—the anthem that echoed the twisted, mad love of Harley Quinn and the Joker.
Sofia began to sing, her voice rhythmic and alluring:
"I need a gangsta... to love me better than all the others do...
To always forgive me, ride or die with me, that's just what gangsters do..."
In the heavy silence of the room, Sofia's ethereal, slightly raspy voice acted like honey rather than poison in Dimitri's ears. Dimitri stood frozen, staring down at her in disbelief. Was this the same woman who was sobbing in terror moments ago? Now, she was serenading him with the favorite anthem of the underworld. His gaze became fixed, unable to discern whether she hated him or had somehow fallen for his savage nature.
Sofia sang the lyrics directly into his space, as if the words were written solely for a criminal like him:
"I'm fcked up, I'm black and blue, I'm built for all the abuse...*
Something about for you, I got to learn the truth...
I need a gangsta..."
Dimitri was mesmerized, his eyes locked onto her lips. The violent wolf inside him seemed to momentarily calm under the spell of the music. He placed a heavy, possessive hand on her waist, pulling her even closer against his bare chest. He began to wonder if this woman was truly just a regular Army officer, or if she was a lost soul from the dark world, just like him.
But Dimitri didn't realize that Sofia was weaving a web of illusion with her song. While she appeared to be feeling his heartbeat through the rhythm, her eyes were surreptitiously scanning for the ring of keys in his pocket or a hidden switch near the headboard.
As the song faded, Sofia looked directly into Dimitri's eyes and gave a mysterious, knowing smile. She saw that the raw lust in his eyes had been replaced by a deep, hypnotic trance. Sofia's mysterious laughter instantly shifted into a look of sheer disdain. She traced an imaginary line across Dimitri's sculpted, bare chest with her finger, her eyes burning with the fire of defiance. Breaking the spell of the song, she spoke in a sharp, piercing tone:
"You're lying, Dimitri. That story about being an orphan, the street fights—it's all a facade. I've seen it in your eyes; your blood doesn't carry the dust of the streets, but the arrogance of nobility. You aren't some common criminal; you're royalty... the descendant of some forgotten empire."
Dimitri was stunned. The trance in his eyes vanished in an instant. Sofia didn't stop; she leaned closer and whispered into his ear:
"And the ultimate truth is, you're a psycho. You don't know how to love; you only know how to possess. You want to dominate people because you're terrified of being alone. This muscular body and your pride are just a wall to hide the madness inside you!"
Every word Sofia uttered felt like a whip against Dimitri's ego. The woman he had viewed as prey was now dragging his deepest secrets into the light. Dimitri's jaw tightened, his pupils constricting with a mix of rage and shock. He gripped her throat with one hand, growling fiercely, "You know too much, Sofia. Whether I'm royalty or a psycho—tonight might be your last night."
Sofia's sudden, pealing laughter filled the room with a chilling dread. Even as Dimitri gripped her neck, consumed by a murderous urge, Sofia didn't flinch. Instead, she laughed like someone possessed. There was no joy in it—only mockery.
"It's funny, Dimitri... so funny!" she gasped through her laughter. "Seeing your rage only proves I hit the mark. You're so arrogant because of your royal blood, and you're showing off your 'bravery' by trapping a woman because you're a psycho. Kill me? Go ahead! But remember, killing a Major is easy—erasing the truth I've planted in your mind is impossible."
Her laughter hammered against the inside of Dimitri's skull. He couldn't fathom how a woman so close to death could laugh like this. Sofia placed a hand on his bare chest, staring directly into his eyes: "You're a coward. Your six-pack and muscles can't hide your fear of solitude. You can end me tonight, but it won't quiet the 'psycho' inside you. You'll live in this darkness forever."
Dimitri froze. Sofia's fearless gaze held up a mirror to his soul. His grip on her neck loosened, though his eyes still smoldered like embers. Suddenly, his rage transformed into a strange, dark fascination. His expression softened into an eerie calmness.
Without a word, he swept Sofia up into his arms, lifting her off the bed.
Sofia was startled. She had expected a blow, but this sudden gesture left her speechless. She could feel the radiating heat from his bare, muscular torso. Dimitri held her with surprising care, as if he were holding a fragile porcelain doll, pressing her against his chest.
As her disheveled hair fell over his broad shoulders, Dimitri walked toward the large window overlooking the endless white snowfall of Moscow. He leaned in, whispering into her ear in a low, husky voice:
"You are dangerous, Sofia. Your laughter is more enchanting than it is terrifying. You called me a psycho? Perhaps I am. But this psycho isn't going to kill you today. It's cute... you look incredibly cute when you laugh out of rage."
Sofia fell silent, overwhelmed by his sudden shift. She could clearly hear the steady thrum of his heart against her cheek. Dimitri didn't put her down; instead, he stood by the window, cradling her as they watched the fierce blizzard outside. In the midst of the storm, this moment felt like a strange, forbidden peace.The room was silent, save for the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windowpane. Dmitri's words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
"Intimacy," he repeated, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.
Sophia didn't pull away. Instead, she searched his eyes for any sign of the man who had broken her heart two years ago. "Intimacy isn't just a physical act, Dmitri," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's a surrender. Do you really think we can just go back after everything that happened in Moscow?"
Dmitri took a step closer, closing the final inch of space between them. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "I'm not looking for the past, Sophia. I'm looking for you. Right here. Right now."
Sophia felt the heat radiating from him. The tension was a living thing, pulling them together like a magnet. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his. "And if I say yes?" she whispered. "What happens when the sun comes up?"
Dmitri's grip on her waist tightened. "Then we let the sun find us exactly like this," he replied, before tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.The room was silent, save for the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windowpane. Dmitri's words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
"Intimacy," he repeated, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.
Sophia didn't pull away. Instead, she searched his eyes for any sign of the man who had broken her heart two years ago. "Intimacy isn't just a physical act, Dmitri," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's a surrender. Do you really think we can just go back after everything that happened in Moscow?"
Dmitri took a step closer, closing the final inch of space between them. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "I'm not looking for the past, Sophia. I'm looking for you. Right here. Right now."
Sophia felt the heat radiating from him. The tension was a living thing, pulling them together like a magnet. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his. "And if I say yes?" she whispered. "What happens when the sun comes up?"
Dmitri's grip on her waist tightened. "Then we let the sun find us exactly like this," he replied, before tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she arched her back, the friction and heat between them becoming almost too much to bear. "Ahhh... Dmitri... I can't... I can't take anymore," she cried out, her voice a mix of desperate plea and pure ecstasy.
Dmitri didn't slow down. His hands remained locked firmly around her waist, guiding her rhythm, his muscles corded with effort. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her shoulder, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
"Stay with me, Sophia," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Don't let go yet."
The air in the room felt heavy and electric. Every movement was a silent conversation, a reclamation of everything they had lost. As the waves of sensation crashed over her, Sophia finally let out a long, shuddering breath, her body trembling in his arms as she succumbed to the sheer power of the moment.
Dmitri held her tight, pulling her back against his chest, their hearts beating in a wild, synchronized thrum against each other. For that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.As she exhaled, her body trembling from the release, a thin trail of white fluid began to trace its way down her leg, contrasting sharply against her skin and the high-fashion leather of her shoes.
Dmitri leaned down, his eyes dark and fixated on the sight. Slowly, he reached out with his hand, capturing the fluid with his fingers. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his hand to his lips and tasted it, a deliberate and primal act of possession.
He then crawled up beside her, his chest heaving, and pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. In a voice so low it was almost a vibration, he whispered:
"Now you are completely mine, Sophia. Every drop, every breath."
Sophia shivered, not from the cold, but from the realization that Dmitri had reclaimed a part of her she thought was gone forever. The clicking of her Paciotti heels against the footboard was the only sound in the room as she pulled him closer.Sophia lay there, utterly spent and breathless, her body yielding to the soft embrace of the bed. Yet, even in this state of total surrender, her Cesare Paciotti heels remained on her feet—the polished leather and razor-sharp stilettos gleaming under the amber glow of the room. They stood as a stark reminder of her status and her fierce personality, a shield of sophistication that had finally been breached.
She looked shattered, a contrast of high-fashion armor and raw, exposed emotion. The weight of the night had stripped away her composure, leaving her fragile against the pillows, while those iconic heels still whispered of the powerful woman she was before Dmitri's touch unraveled her.It was 2:00 AM. The world outside was swallowed by a heavy, velvet silence, but inside the room, the air was still thick with the remnants of their fire.
Sophia sat on the edge of the bed, her clothes discarded somewhere in the shadows. She had wrapped a thin, semi-transparent sheet around her body, clutching it tightly against her chest. Her face was flushed—a deep, burning crimson—making her look like a regal queen who had just emerged from a fierce battle of emotions.
The glow of the bedside lamp caught the sharp angle of her cheekbones and the lingering moisture on her skin. She looked breathtaking, powerful yet completely undone.
Dmitri stood by the window, adjusting his shirt, his silhouette dark against the glass. He turned around, his eyes scanning her exhausted yet glowing form. The intensity hadn't left his gaze.
"Get the coffee," he said, his voice low and commanding, breaking the silence like a strike of flint.
Sophia looked up, her eyes wide. At this hour, after everything that had just transpired, the request felt like a challenge. Dmitri stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "Bring the coffee, Sophia. We aren't done talking tonight."