The pale morning light filtered through the frost on the windows, brushing against Sofia's eyelids. She stirred, her body feeling heavy from the immense emotional and physical toll of the night before. Still half-asleep, she let out a soft, tired murmur—"Humm..."
In an instant, reality came rushing back. The memory of the knife, her uncontrollable tears, and Dimitri's unbelievably gentle touch flooded her mind. She realized she wasn't alone; Dimitri was lying right beside her, his powerful arm still draped possessively over her waist.
Sofia slowly turned on her side. Dimitri was wide awake, his piercing blue eyes calm but reflecting a triumphant, knowing smirk.
Feeling exposed and flustered, Sofia reached out to straighten the collar of the white shirt he was wearing, whispering softly, "How... how long have you been staring at me?"
Dimitri tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, leaning in to whisper, "All night. I wanted to see if you'd try to kill me again in your sleep."
Sofia's heart hammered against her ribs. Her eyes darted to the marble floor where the knife had fallen, but she gasped—the floor was empty! The blade was gone. She looked back at Dimitri, her eyes wide with shock.
Dimitri reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the razor-sharp steel pin. He held it up before her eyes, his voice steady and hauntingly calm. "Looking for this? I saw on the CCTV how you wanted to check my heartbeat with it. It was a beautiful moment, Sofia."
Sofia's face went deathly pale. Caught between the shame of her failure and the fear of his retaliation, she went speechless. But Dimitri didn't strike. Instead, he placed the hilt of the blade into her trembling hand.
"It's morning now. I'm awake. If you want to kill me, do it now," he challenged. "But remember, if I die, you won't make it out of this palace alive. Outside, Aryan Volkov and Alia are both waiting with traps set for you."
Sofia stared at the knife for a second, then set it aside and stood up. Clad in his oversized white shirt that hung down to her knees, she pulled her hair back into a tight bun, her eyes regaining the fierce spark of the Major she once was.
She looked at him and spoke in her native tongue:
"Marar iccha thakle rati martam, Dimitri. Ami baghini thik-e, kintu beiman na. Tumi amare bachaicho, ar aj ami tomare bachamu. Aryan-re ar Alia-re kemne shikkha dita hoy, houta ekhon ami dekhaimu!" (If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it at night, Dimitri. I am a tigress, but I am not a traitor. You saved me, and today, I will save you. I'll show you exactly how to teach Aryan and Alia a lesson!)
Dimitri smiled, standing up to press a light kiss on her forehead. "I love it when you talk Sylheti. Now, eat your Galaxy. We have a war to attend to."Sofia descended the stairs wearing only Dimitri's oversized white shirt. Her long hair was a mess, and her feet were bare against the cold marble. The massive dining table was spread with a royal breakfast, and a line of maids stood by, their eyes wide with shock at Sofia's disheveled state, yet none dared to look up.
As Sofia pulled out a chair, she saw Viktor, Dimitri's older brother, sitting at the far end of the table. Like Dimitri, he possessed an air of royalty and coldness. Viktor was calmly eating his breakfast. He paused for a moment upon seeing Sofia, a slight smirk playing on his lips.
Viktor: "Good morning, Sofia. Dimitri's shirt suits you well. It seems last night's battle was quite long."
Sofia offered no reply, silently picking up a slice of toast. Just then, a baby's cry echoed from the upper floor of the palace. The sound was so piercing it shattered the silence of the dining hall.
Startled, Sofia looked at Viktor and asked, "Whose baby is that? And where is Alia?"
Viktor set down his glass, his voice turning somber. "Alia is no longer in this palace. She has chosen her own mission. But she has left behind her three-month-old child. Perhaps she knew that on the battlefield, being an agent mattered more to her than being a mother."
The cry stabbed at Sofia's heart. While Dimitri was still upstairs getting ready, Sofia abandoned her breakfast and stood up. She walked straight into Alia's room and saw a tiny infant thrashing in a cradle, screaming with a face turned red from hunger.
Sofia realized that despite the thousand maids in the palace, this child needed a mother's touch. The maternal instinct sleeping within her suddenly jolted awake. She loosened the buttons of Dimitri's shirt slightly and gently lifted the child into her arms.
The baby's cries subsided the moment he felt the warmth of Sofia's skin. Sofia held the infant close to her chest. Hearing her heartbeat and feeling her warmth, the baby slowly calmed down. As she stroked his head, Dimitri appeared at the doorway.
Dimitri watched as the fierce 'Major Sofia' now stood cradling an abandoned child. A strange moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes. He realized Sofia was not just a warrior; she was a vast ocean of love.
Sofia whispered softly in Bengali:
"Alia, tui koto boro pashani! Nijer kolijar tukrare falaiya gesos giya? Chinta korish na shona, tor ma nai to ki hoise? Aj theke ami tor ma." (Alia, how heartless you are! You left a piece of your own heart behind? Don't worry, little one, so what if your mother isn't here? From today, I am your mother.)
Dimitri stepped forward and placed a hand on Sofia's shoulder, whispering, "You are full of surprises, Sofia. From today, this child is our responsibility. Alia will pay a heavy price for this."
A Mother's Grace
As Sofia held the baby, her maternal instinct transformed into a fierce tenderness. She could no longer bear the hungry wails of this innocent soul left behind by Alia. Loosening the buttons of the oversized white shirt, she pressed the infant against her skin.
She looked at Dimitri and spoke in a voice that was strangely calm and firm. "Look, Dimitri, even if Alia abandoned him, nature will not keep him hungry. I am giving him my own milk (Breastfeeding)... see how calm he has become."
The moment the infant's hungry lips found Sofia's warmth, his crying stopped instantly. The baby began to drink with deep satisfaction, letting out a small, comforted sound—"Humm..."
Dimitri stood frozen, like a statue. The woman he had seen as a savage tigress last night was now a divine mother before him. His massive heart seemed to skip a beat. He watched in awe as a tiny life found total peace in Sofia's embrace.
Sofia stroked the baby's forehead, submerged in affection. "Look, Dimitri, how happily he drinks. Perhaps he understands that even if his real mother isn't here, there is someone for him."
Dimitri sat down slowly beside her. He touched the infant's tiny hand with his large fingers, his eyes misty with an uncharacteristic softness. "I never knew a scene like this could exist in my world, Sofia. You aren't just giving him life; you're breathing life into my stone heart. Alia can never imagine what she has lost."
Sofia looked down at the baby and whispered in Bengali:
"Shanti ne re jadu. Tor kono chinta nai. Aj theke tore dekhar lagi ami achi." (Find peace, my magic. You have no worries. From today, I am here to look after you.)
This peaceful, sacred moment seemed to transform the blood-soaked atmosphere of the palace in an instant. The cold wind outside and the enemies of Dimitri lurking within—everything suddenly felt insignificant.A serene, ethereal smile graced Sofia's face. After quieting the infant with her maternal warmth, she looked up at Dimitri and laughed softly—a laugh that didn't belong to a hardened Major, but to a mother. At that very moment, Dimitri's elder brother, Viktor, stepped slowly into the room.
Even for a ruthless Mafia leader like Viktor, the sight brought a moment of stunned silence. He walked up to Sofia, who gently adjusted her oversized white shirt as she moved the baby. Viktor reached out with his powerful yet protective arms.
With profound tenderness, Sofia handed the child over to Viktor. He held the small life, staring down at the tiny face with an uncharacteristic gravity. Then, he looked at Dimitri, whose eyes were still fixed on Sofia in sheer admiration.
Viktor gripped Dimitri's shoulder and spoke in a steady, low voice:
"Dimitri, you've found something far more powerful than an empire. Take care of them. I have work to do now; the enemies are gathering at the city's borders."
Viktor placed the baby back into the cradle and headed toward the door. Just before leaving, he paused and turned back to Dimitri.
"I'm leaving now. See you later. And Sofia... I won't forget what I saw today. You've turned Dimitri's palace into a true home."
After Viktor's departure, a deep stillness settled over the room. Dimitri moved closer to Sofia, who was still smiling at the cradle. He gently took her chin and turned her face toward his.
"My brother doesn't give praise easily, Sofia," Dimitri whispered. "You've won him over today. But now, we must move. If Viktor is talking about war, it means Aryan Volkov is closing in."
Sofia kept her mysterious smile and replied in defiant Sylheti-Bengali:
"Aryan ashuk ar tar bap ashuk, amar polare (referring to the baby) je etim korse, tare ami aj duniya theke shoraimu. Dimitri, tomar gun load koro, aj Major Sofia ar Ma Sofia—duijon mila juddho korbo!" (Let Aryan come, or even his father. The one who made my boy an orphan, I will wipe them off this earth today. Dimitri, load your gun. Today, Major Sofia and Mother Sofia—both will fight this war together!)