Sophia's captivity inside the 200-billion-dollar palace took a strange turn that day. She felt an urge to dress differently, as if the Bangladeshi roots within her were whispering reminders of who she truly was.
After her bath, she took out a delicate red saree from the wardrobe, lightly brushed with shades of white. The fabric blended with her skin in an almost mystical way. The translucent drape revealed the graceful curve of her waist and stomach—on one side the dignity of a Major, on the other an ethereal beauty.
She sat before the mirror, her wet hair cascading down her back. In her hand was a small bottle of red alta. But applying it to her feet while managing the saree proved difficult. Her fingers trembled slightly, and the soft sound of her anklet echoed in the silent room.
At that very moment, without a sound, Dimitri entered.
Dressed in a black silk shirt with the top buttons open, he leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized by this new version of Sophia.
He walked slowly toward her and stood behind her. Their eyes met through the mirror. Sophia almost dropped the alta bottle in surprise, but Dimitri caught it with his strong hand.
"Can't do it?" his voice was low and heavy.
"I… I can manage. You should leave," Sophia murmured.
Dimitri didn't listen.
He knelt down in front of her, just like he had that night with the coffee. Gently, he lifted one of her feet and placed it on his knee. The moment his fingers touched her soft skin, a shiver ran through her body.
With extreme care, Dimitri began applying the red alta to her feet.
Silence filled the room—only the ticking of the clock and their breathing.
The contrast was striking: Dimitri's rough, muscular hands and Sophia's delicate, alta-painted feet.
When he finished, he looked up. His gaze briefly rested on her exposed waist, then met her eyes.
"Red suits you, Sophia," he said quietly. "Because it is the color of love… and the color of war. Tell me, are you dressed to be the queen of my empire tonight, or is this your signal for a new battle?"
Tears gathered at the corners of Sophia's eyes, sparkling like diamonds in the mirror light.
"Why did Riki have to die, Dimitri?" she whispered.
At the mention of the name, Dimitri's hands froze. The air in the room turned cold.
"What was his fault? He didn't know anything about your 200-billion-dollar game. He only loved me. Why did you remove him?" Her voice trembled with pain and hatred.
Dimitri stood up slowly. The softness in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a cold detachment.
"Riki had no personal fault. His only mistake was finding the key to a door he wasn't allowed to open. When my brother Viktor and Godmother Alia Zarin make a decision, emotions don't exist. Riki was at the wrong place at the wrong time."
He wiped a tear from her cheek.
"If you want justice in this dark world, understand this—justice here means death. Riki is gone. You are alive because I wanted you to be. Stop crying. Tonight Viktor and Alia will be here for dinner. If you want revenge, you must learn to sit at that table with a smile."
Later that night, at 1 AM, the palace glowed like a city of light amidst snow and fog.
From the balcony, Sophia watched a convoy of black bulletproof Mercedes, Rolls Royce, and Lamborghinis approaching in perfect formation. Armed guards surrounded every vehicle.
This was not a dinner.
This was an international mafia conclave.
Dimitri appeared at the balcony door. "Get ready, Sophia. The guests have arrived."
Sophia had changed. She now wore an elegant, breathtaking black designer gown studded with fine diamonds that shimmered like stars under the chandeliers. Around her neck was the rare blue diamond necklace Dimitri had given her.
Dimitri placed her hand over his arm.
"You don't look like a Major tonight," he said. "You look like a princess of an ancient empire. Viktor and Alia will observe your every move. Don't make a mistake."
Sophia smiled coldly. "I don't make mistakes, Dimitri. I wait for opportunities."
As they descended the grand staircase, Sophia saw Viktor Alexeyevich and beside him the mysterious Alia Isronova Zarin.
The dining table was filled with luxurious food and wine.
But to Sophia, it looked like an execution table where her brother's killers sat waiting.
As her foot touched the last step, the entire hall fell silent.
Viktor Alexeyevich slowly rose from his seat…The tall, stern-faced Mafia Lord walked slowly toward Sophia. Every step he took was royal… and terrifying.
Viktor stopped in front of her, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. He gently lifted Sophia's hand and placed a light kiss on its back.
"You look so lovely, Sofia."
His voice carried a magnetic authority that could turn an ordinary person pale with fear. Looking directly into her eyes, he added,
"Now I understand why Dimitri ignored Moscow's snowstorms to keep you close. I didn't know my brother had such exquisite taste."
Beside him, Alia Isronova Zarin remained calm. Her gaze was fixed on the rare blue diamond necklace around Sophia's neck. She stepped forward and said sweetly in Bengali,
"Calling her beautiful isn't enough, Viktor. I see something in her eyes brighter than this expensive dress. I see fire."
Leaning closer, Zarin whispered,
"I heard you're from Bangladesh. Women from our land are soft… but when danger comes, they can be devastating. Am I right, Major?"
Sophia composed herself and gave a faint, cold smile. Looking straight into Viktor's eyes, she replied,
"I appreciate your compliment, Mr. Viktor. But beauty can be misleading. As you surely know, the most beautiful flowers often carry the most poisonous thorns."
The atmosphere at the dinner table tightened instantly. Viktor burst into laughter and patted Dimitri's back.
"Excellent! She's not only beautiful, her intellect is sharp too. Dimitri, you chose well."
Everyone took their seats. Viktor sat in the middle, with Alia Zarin on one side and Dimitri and Sophia on the other. Taking a sip from his champagne glass, Viktor suddenly pulled out a file.
"On this lovely night, shall we discuss a little business? Especially that new project near the Bangladesh border?"
Sophia's irritation had reached its peak. This artificial luxury felt like poison to her. But what disturbed her most was Viktor's gaze—predatory, measuring her like a hunter studies prey.
Then she noticed something strange.
Dimitri and Viktor looked exactly alike.
Same smile, same nose structure, even the same eye color.
They weren't just brothers.
They were twins.
The only difference:
Viktor's hair was completely white, making him appear crueler and older.
Dimitri's hair was bright golden, glowing like fire.
Viktor's sharp, indecent gaze scanned every curve of Sophia's body. Dimitri noticed it. His jaw tightened as he finished his drink in one gulp.
Unable to tolerate it anymore, Sophia said dryly,
"Mr. Viktor, is there something written on my face? The way you're looking at me, it seems like you're trying to read an old document."
Viktor ran his fingers through his white hair.
"Not a document, Sofia. I'm trying to find the source of the fire inside you. Dimitri may be my twin, but he always likes to claim the most valuable things first. Can he handle someone like you alone?"
The table fell silent.
Dimitri's hand moved toward a knife on the table, but Alia Zarin gently pressed his hand down.
In a low voice, she told Sophia in Bengali,
"Brotherly love is complicated, Sofia. Especially when two tigers want to rule the same jungle. Don't fear Viktor's gaze. But be careful—wars between twins often begin because of beautiful women."
Viktor laughed and looked at Dimitri.
"What, getting angry? Like childhood, do we have to share toys again?"
Dimitri's golden hair shimmered under the light.
"If she were a toy, maybe. But Sofia is part of my empire. And I don't allow even my twin brother to touch my empire."
Viktor laughed loudly, clearly amused.
"Relax, Dimitri. I'm married. Father of five. And look who's sitting beside me—beautiful Alia. She's more than enough for my palace… and my bed."
He placed his arm around Alia's waist. She responded with a mysterious smile.
Viktor then looked at Sophia directly.
"Don't misunderstand my gaze, Sofia. I was simply checking whether you're worthy of sitting beside my brother. Once someone enters this family, they never leave. Either they become owners of this 200 billion… or residents of a grave."
Though the mood lightened slightly, Sophia remained extremely alert.
During dinner, her eyes fell on Viktor's ring.
The same logo.
The same mark she had seen on a button beside Riki's dead body.
Her blood boiled.
Viktor was directly involved in Riki's murder.
Later, Viktor said calmly,
"I want to speak with you privately, Sofia."
Dimitri's jaw tightened, but Alia signaled him to stay calm.
Sophia agreed. This was her chance to get closer to the truth.
Inside the silent library room filled with thousands of books, Viktor closed the door and stood very close to her.
"Do you really think Dimitri brought you here because he loves you? You're a Major. Our enemy. He's using you as his shield."
Viktor raised his ring before her eyes.
"You recognize this, don't you? Ever since you saw this mark in Riki's blood, there's been a fire inside you. I can feel it."
Sophia's voice trembled.
"So you admit it? You killed Riki?"
Viktor gave a dark smile.
"I only gave the order. But do you know the real truth? Dimitri knew Riki would die. He knew removing him was necessary for our operation's success. He just never told you."
Sophia felt the world sway around her.
Dimitri knew?
Was everything he showed her… just an act Sophia shuddered violently at Viktor's sudden and unauthorized advance. Like Dimitri, his hands were muscular, but unlike Dimitri, there was no warmth—only icy cruelty. Viktor pressed his fingers firmly against her lips, silencing her, his white hair falling over his forehead, his grotesque smile dangerously close to her face. In a venomous whisper, he hissed:
"Listen, Sophia… Dimitri is no good. I've known him since childhood. Everything you see in his eyes—love, charm—it's all a performance. He's nothing but a chameleon. Once he's done with you… he'll bury you under ice with his own hands."
Viktor didn't release his grip, pressing harder. Then he revealed the truth in a cold, calculated tone:
"Do you know where Dimitri was when Riki died? Sitting in the next room, sipping champagne. He wanted Riki gone so he could exploit your weakness and trap you in this cage."
He leaned closer, voice laced with both threat and temptation:
"Join me, Sophia. I can make you the true key to this 200-billion-dollar empire. Dimitri only wants you as a doll. I will give you power."
Summoning every ounce of her strength, Sophia jerked Viktor's hand away. Rage burned in her eyes as she wiped her lips and shouted:
"You may look alike, but your hatred is different! If Dimitri is a devil, you're the devil's shadow! You killed my brother—death is far better than joining you!"
At that precise moment, the massive library door slammed open. Dimitri stood there, pistol drawn, his golden hair trembling with intensity. His eyes were no longer human—they were predatory, like a wolf defending its prey.
"Viktor… step back," Dimitri commanded in a low, thunderous voice.
"The days of sharing our childhood toys are over. Touch her again, and it won't be my twin seeing your face… it'll be your corpse."
The library was suffocating with tension—Dimitri's gun aimed at Viktor's chest, Viktor's enigmatic smile, and in between them, a devastated Sophia.
Just then, Alia Zarin stormed in with the force of a tempest, her expression terrifyingly stern. Without a word, she slapped Dimitri hard across the face. The room seemed to shudder from the impact. Dimitri froze, lowering his gun. Alia glared at Viktor, her voice deadly calm:
"Viktor! End this filth and leave quietly! I will not tolerate bloodshed between brothers."
She turned to Sophia, her eyes icy. In a voice both grave and bone-chilling, she said:
"Sophia, forget everything you just saw. Dimitri brought you here, that's his choice. But what happens in this room stays here. Until your marriage with Dimitri, our presence will remain unseen. Before that day, forget we exist."
Alia grabbed Viktor's arm and pulled him along. Viktor, still casting a final lascivious glance at Sophia, said nothing further. Before leaving, Alia warned Dimitri:
"Control yourself. Shooting at your own twin for a girl is not a mark of royalty."
Viktor and Alia exited swiftly, the roar of a luxury car starting shortly after.
Now the library was left with only Dimitri and Sophia. Dimitri rubbed his cheek, his golden hair falling over his face. Though the rage in his eyes still burned, Alia's slap had briefly tethered him to reality.
Sophia's voice trembled:
"Dimitri… what Viktor said… is it true? Did you really know about Riki?"
Dimitri threw his pistol onto the table. He stepped close and pressed her against the wall. His voice was now broken, raw, and terrifying:
"Viktor may be my brother, but he's a venomous snake. Half of what he said was poison, half lies. But Alia was right—you are mine now. You will never see my brother again."
After the terrifying moment passed, Dimitri's demeanor shifted. The murderous crimson in his eyes softened into a deep, hypnotic gaze. He commanded Sophia quietly:
"Come to my room, Sophia."
She did not resist. Her body still trembling from Viktor's words, she followed Dimitri to the grand, regal bedroom. From a drawer, he retrieved a small red powder. An artistic spark glimmered in his eyes.
He gestured for her to lie on the bed.
"Take off your clothes. Just wrap yourself in a white sheet and lie face down."
For a moment, Sophia hesitated, but she sensed Dimitri's calm was like the stillness before a storm. She obeyed, the sheet draping over her pristine back like a blank canvas.
Dimitri dipped a brush into the red powder. He wasn't merely applying color—he was creating art. A magnificent phoenix with outstretched wings began to emerge on her back, rising from the ashes.
The cool touch of the powder sent shivers down Sophia's spine. As Dimitri's fingers glided over her skin, it felt less like a drug lord's hand and more like an obsessed artist claiming his masterpiece.
Whispering low, Dimitri said:
"Viktor tried to defile you. I am washing that touch away with my art. Your back is my canvas. No mafia lord, no Major's mark—only this crimson wing."
When he finished, he gently blew on her back to dry the powder. The warmth of his breath spread through her body like fire.
Sophia turned her head, realizing that Dimitri did not just love her—he wanted to claim her as his ultimate creation.
But he did not stop. The brush returned to the red powder. His movements were now slower, deliberate, almost ritualistic. He moved her hair aside, exposing her neck. Sophia clutched the white sheet to her chest. Dimitri leaned in, his warm breath grazing her skin, making her shiver.
He began drawing around her neck and shoulders:
A delicate, crimson necklace formed, like an invisible artisan had adorned her with elegance in red. When the brush passed over her pulse points, her heartbeat seemed to pause. He painted a small royal crown on her neck.
Leaning close to her ear, he whispered:
"Viktor sullied you with his hands. I am erasing that with my art. This crimson mark is now the only ornament you wear. Look at yourself, Sophia—you are no longer just a captive. You are my crimson goddess."
Sophia was speechless. Every nerve in her body stood on end, caught between fear and fascination. She could not tell if Dimitri loved her… or if he was engraving his power onto her very flesh.
Dimitri tilted her chin toward the mirror. Sophia's reflection startled her. The phoenix on her back, the intricate necklace around her neck—it was terrifyingly beautiful. She realized, in that instant, that she belonged to Dimitri, irrevocably.
From behind, Dimitri wrapped his muscular arms around her. Her softness melded with his strength. In the next moment, he lifted her into his arms, the white sheet wrapped around her like a helpless princess. He carried her to the center of the bed.
Her eyes wide, trembling, Sophia felt his golden hair brush her face. His 'psycho' intensity had transformed into a possessive hunger. He lifted her chin and kissed her deeply, with a mix of passion and authority.
Every kiss seemed to pull her very soul into him. The scent of red powder and Dimitri's perfume filled the room. Sophia's hardened Major demeanor melted like snow.
After a long, consuming kiss, Dimitri rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. In a broken voice, he said:
"Tonight, there is no Viktor or Riki between us, Sophia. Every corner of this 200-billion-dollar palace knows you are mine. I can destroy you… or make you the ruler of this empire. Tell me, Sophia… do you want to be my queen of darkness?"
Sophia, still panting, lips tinged red from his kiss, realized Dimitri didn't just want her body he wanted her life, her essence. Yet, even as desire surged within her, her mind replayed the hidden missions and control room secrets.