After Dimitri's bone-chilling announcement, Sofia felt as if the last drop of blood in her veins had turned to ice. As Victor made that crude, lewd gesture with his fingers, Dimitri kept his hand on Sofia's shoulder, laughing with a demonic serenity. He leaned into her ear and whispered that his brother wanted her, and she would have to endure it without a word.
Dizzy with humiliation and sheer terror, Sofia felt the massive palace walls closing in to crush her. She stumbled toward a chair at the dining table and collapsed into it. Her body was trembling violently, and her vision began to blur; the glint of the expensive crystal glasses and silverware on the table felt like the sharp edge of a sword against her eyes.
At the far end of the table, Alia Zarin sipped her wine with eerie calm. There was no mercy in her gaze—only a cold, calculated interest as she observed Sofia's breakdown. Victor rose from his chair and began walking toward Sofia with slow, predatory steps. Each footfall on the heavy carpet echoed like a drumbeat of doom. Sofia sat frozen, a trapped doe surrounded by three hunters. Behind her, Dimitri began stroking her hair, preparing her for the next ultimate insult.
Dimitri and Alia were fully absorbed in their cruel game, but Victor's sudden move caught them both off guard.
When Victor reached out and gripped Sofia's pale hand with crushing force, the air in the room grew heavy in an instant. The smirk vanished from Dimitri's face, replaced by a stony hardness. He locked eyes with his brother, trying to gauge if Victor was crossing a line he wasn't supposed to touch.
Alia Zarin set her wine glass down with a sharp thud. Her expression shifted from curiosity to a piercing, dangerous intensity. A single question hung over the three of them: Was Victor merely trying to humiliate Sofia further, or was he claiming absolute or exclusive rights over Dimitri's "gift"?
Sofia cowered, staring down at Victor's hand. His grip was so tight she felt her bones might shatter. But there was no hesitation in Victor's eyes—only a strange, aggressive defiance as he stared at Sofia, throwing a silent, lethal challenge directly at Dimitri.Dimitri's Counterattack:
Standing behind Sofia, Dimitri tightened his grip around her throat. His eyes burned with fury. Gritting his teeth, he hissed at Victor, "Let go, Victor. She is my prey. I brought her here for a specific reason, not for your entertainment." There was no longer any laughter in Dimitri's voice, only the raw fear and rage of losing his possession.
Victor's Defiance:
Victor did not let go; instead, he pulled Sofia's hand even harder toward himself. Looking directly into Dimitri's eyes with a demonic smirk, he said, "You said it yourself, brother—she wants to be with me. Now that I'm taking her, why are you burning with jealousy? Or have you actually fallen in love with this little bird?"
Alia's Provocation:
As the dispute peaked, Alia Zarin leaned back in her chair, savoring the spectacle. She remarked coldly, "Doesn't the same blood share its spoils? Or are you afraid of your brother, Dimitri?" Her words struck a massive blow to both brothers' egos.
The Escalation:
Dimitri instantly grabbed a knife from the table, while Victor reached for the pistol at his waist. Caught in the middle, Sofia realized she was trapped in a fire where the power struggle between these two brothers might cost her her life. Alia's intervention acted like gasoline on the flames. She rose calmly and stated, "Enough, Dimitri. I won't have bloodshed over such trivialities in my palace. If Victor wants her, let him have her."
Turning to Victor, she gestured, "Victor, take Sofia. She is yours now."
A predatory, lewd grin spread across Victor's face. He grabbed Sofia's hand like a war trophy, casting a victorious glance at a humiliated, silent Dimitri. Victor then dragged a trembling, sobbing Sofia out of the dining hall and toward his quarters.
Inside Victor's Room:
In the dim afternoon light filtering through the window, Victor's demeanor shifted from violent predator to an eerie, terrifying stillness. He sat at the edge of the bed, a sheet draped around his massive frame, watching Sofia with unsettling intensity.
Outside, the sound of falling snow was the only thing breaking the silence. Victor extended a hand from beneath the sheet, gesturing for her to approach. His voice was no longer a shout, but a bone-chilling whisper.
"Come sit here, Sofia. There is plenty of warmth beneath this sheet... but do you have the power to melt the ice frozen inside my soul?"
Sofia, trembling, began to walk toward the bed, unsure if this newfound calmness was a trap or a different kind of madness. Outside, Dimitri was likely exploding with rage, but inside this locked room, there was only Victor and his haunting silence.As Sofia stood frozen by the edge of the bed, her breath hitching in her chest, Victor did the unthinkable. He didn't reach for her. He didn't strike her or force her down. Instead, he pulled the sheet tighter around himself and looked at her with a weary, almost hollow expression.
In a voice devoid of the earlier aggression, he said:
"Are you surprised, Sofia? Did you think I would tear you apart the moment the door locked? Look at me—I haven't touched you. I haven't done a single thing to you. I just wanted you here, like this."
The silence in the room became heavy, broken only by the muffled sound of the wind outside. Sofia stared at him, her mind racing. Was this a trick? A new form of torture? Victor looked away, staring at the snow falling against the windowpane.
"Dimitri thinks he owns you," Victor continued, his voice a low hum. "Alia thinks you are a pawn she can discard. But by bringing you here and doing... nothing... I have taken away their power. Dimitri is out there burning with a jealousy he can't name, and Alia is wondering why her 'gift' hasn't been broken yet."
He leaned back slightly, still keeping a respectful distance that felt more terrifying than his touch. "I don't need to touch you to ruin their game, Sofia. Just by sitting here in my room, untouched and silent, you have become my greatest victory over them. Stay. For the first time since you entered this hell, you are safe—not because I am a good man, but because my silence is the only thing they can't control."
Sofia sat at the very edge of the bed, her heart still hammering against her ribs. She was no longer a victim of a physical assault, but she was now a prisoner of a much deeper, psychological war between two brothers.When Sofia stepped out of Victor's room, the palace corridor felt as silent as a graveyard. Dimitri and Alia had expected her to emerge broken and devastated, but her calm, steady presence stunned them both.
The Scene:
As Sofia walked slowly back toward the grand hall, she saw Dimitri standing by the window, his knuckles white as he gripped a crystal glass. When he saw Sofia—not disheveled, not shattered, but walking with an eerie composure—the glass in his hand slipped and shattered against the floor. His eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and a jealousy so intense it was almost suffocating. He had expected Victor to ruin her; instead, her survival felt like a personal insult to him.
Alia Zarin looked up from the sofa, a razor-sharp smile playing on her lips. She studied Sofia's face, trying to decipher what had happened behind those locked doors. The fact that Sofia could still hold her head up was a puzzle Alia hadn't solved.
"Sofia," Alia remarked, her voice like cracking ice. "You are stronger than I credited you for. Most women don't walk out of Victor's room on their own two feet."
The Confrontation:
Sofia didn't look at Alia. Instead, she turned her gaze directly to Dimitri. The fear that had paralyzed her hours ago was gone, replaced by a hollow, cold strength.
"I don't know who won or lost your little game," Sofia said, her voice steady and echoing in the vast hall. "But I am still here. Dimitri, the man you 'gifted' me to just insulted you more than I ever could. By not touching me, he showed that he doesn't even value your property enough to break it."
The words acted like venom in Dimitri's veins. He realized the psychological trap Victor had set: by leaving Sofia untouched, Victor hadn't just spared her—he had successfully signaled that Dimitri's dominance over her meant absolutely nothing to him.3:00 AM. Outside, the snowstorm has turned into a violent blizzard, and the flickering light from the massive crystal chandeliers casts long, distorted shadows across the room. After hours of psychological warfare, the four of them—Dimitri, Victor, Alia, and Sofia—sit down at the long mahogany table for a late-night meal. The atmosphere is suffocating, like a living hell.
The Scene at 3:00 AM:
Expensive delicacies are spread across the table, yet the only sound is the rhythmic, metallic clink of silver cutlery against porcelain. It is a sound that grates on the nerves.
Victor's Arrogance: Victor eats with a relaxed, predatory grace. A mysterious smirk remains on his face as he glances at Sofia, knowing exactly how much his restraint is burning Dimitri from the inside.
Dimitri's Silent Rage: Dimitri hasn't touched his food. He stares into his glass of dark red wine, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like it might snap. The fact that Sofia returned from Victor's room unscathed is a reality he cannot digest.
Alia's Calculation: Alia eats slowly, her eyes darting between the two brothers. She is the conductor of this madness, sensing that this midnight silence is merely the eye of a much larger storm.
The Breaking Point:
Victor suddenly breaks the silence. He takes a slow sip of his drink, looks at Dimitri, and chuckles. "What's the matter, brother? No appetite? Or is this 3:00 AM dinner a bit too hard for your stomach to handle?"
Dimitri lifts his head. His eyes are bloodshot with murderous intent. He turns his gaze toward Sofia and asks in a bone-chillingly calm voice, "Are you hungry, Sofia? Or did you get your fill while you were locked away in Victor's room?"
The insult is sharp and filthy. Sofia puts her fork down, the clatter echoing through the hall. She looks Dimitri straight in the eye, no longer flinching.
"If you're sitting at this table at 3:00 AM just to interrogate my body," she says steadily, "then you should know—my hunger died a long time ago."Dimitri's patience shattered completely. He had never imagined such a bold response from Sofia. Blinded by insult and jealousy, he erupted in a roar of fury.
The Clash at the Table:
With a violent surge of strength, Dimitri grabbed the edge of the dining table and flipped it over. The heavy mahogany crashed to the floor, the sound echoing through the hall like a thunderclap. Expensive crystal, porcelain plates, and food shattered into a million pieces. In one predatory leap, Dimitri lunged toward Sofia, his right hand raised to strike her with a devastating blow.
But then, something unthinkable happened.
Sofia did not cower. As Dimitri's hand whipped through the air toward her face, she moved with lightning speed, catching his wrist in a iron-clad grip. A strange, almost supernatural strength surged through her—a final outburst of all the months of imprisonment and humiliation.
The Stunned Silence:
Dimitri froze. He couldn't believe that his "property" had the audacity to stop his hand mid-air. Sofia's nails dug into his skin. Staring him straight in the eyes, she hissed through clenched teeth:
"Enough, Dimitri. You may have bought me, but you didn't take away my power to fight back. If you want to kill me tonight, remember—I won't die empty-handed."
From behind, Victor burst into a manic laughter, clapping his hands. "Bravo! This is the phoenix I was waiting for! Dimitri, your prey has finally learned to bite back!"
Alia Zarin stood up, a new sense of respect glinting in her eyes. She realized Sofia was no longer just a pawn in the brothers' game; she had become a player in this dangerous war.
Alia's Revelation:
The room went cold as Alia stepped between Dimitri and Sofia. She took Sofia's face in her hand and made a chilling announcement that stopped the brothers in their tracks.
"Did you really think I was foolish enough to play this game with just any girl? No. I have two sisters—they are twins. This one standing here is the first Sofia, with hair as black as coal."
Dimitri whispered, stunned, "Twins? You mean there's another?"
Alia smiled a demonic smile. "Yes. The other Sofia has hair as white as snow. And look at my hair—honey-gold with streaks of brown. We three sisters represent three different kinds of power."
She pointed to Sofia's eyes. "Look closely, Dimitri. This Sofia has golden eyes. My white-haired sister? Her eyes are as blue as the sea. The girl you've been fighting over is only half of a massive puzzle!"
The Truth of the Other Sister:
The laughter died in Victor's throat. Dimitri asked, his voice trembling, "Where is she? The white-haired one?"
Alia looked toward the window, her smile turning bittersweet. "You think she is trapped in this hell with us? No. She is beyond your reach. The white-haired, blue-eyed Sofia is far away. She is married. She is living happily in her own world, far from this darkness. She has freed herself."
Tears glistened in the black-haired Sofia's eyes. She knew her sister was free, even if she remained a captive.
Dimitri was devastated. The idea that a part of this family existed beyond his control was a blow to his ego. Alia looked back at the blizzard outside and said coldly:
"One of us had to be free so the rest of us could survive this hell. She is happy, and that is the greatest victory for the three of us. Victor, Dimitri the girl you were fighting over isn't here to be destroyed. She is here to watch you destroy yourselves."
Victor looked at Sofia with a new gaze—one no longer filled with lust, but with a terrifying curiosity. The sister of a woman who escaped this world surely carried a secret strength they had yet to see.