As the cold Siberian sun rose, the golden light revealed the wreckage of Sofia's dignity. She lay motionless on the bed, the gold chain biting into her skin. She wasn't just a prisoner of the palace anymore; she was a prisoner of the man's twisted game.
The mysterious man, now impeccably dressed in a charcoal-black suit, stood over her. He looked down at her shivering, exposed form with a gaze as cold as the ice outside. Without a word, he pulled a thick stack of Russian Rubles from his pocket.
With a cruel flick of his fingers, he showered the bills over her. The money fell like colorful snowflakes, landing on her chest, her hair, and the silk sheets.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and smirked.
"You have made me very happy, Sofia," he said, his voice echoing with a chilling mockery. "Take this. Consider it your payment. Four years ago, you acted like a queen. Today, I've shown you your real worth. You are nothing more than an expensive toy I bought for the night."
Sofia stared at the Russian currency covering her body. The sight of the money was more painful than the physical scars. She, the high-ranking Major who once commanded respect and fear, was now being tipped like a common servant.
The man leaned down, tucked a high-value note into the gold chain wrapped around her wrist, and whispered:
"Keep it. If you please me tonight as well, I might give you a bonus. Now, get up. A slave should be ready to serve her master at any moment."
He turned on his heel and walked out, his heavy boots thumping against the floor. The red snake slithered over the piles of cash, following its true master out of the room. Sofia was left alone, drowning in a sea of money and shame.All of Sofia's pride and her status as a Major had crumbled into dust. Hearing the sound of the man leaving sent a wave of sheer terror through her. It was as if she was afraid of being alone, or perhaps the drug had made her psychologically dependent on him.
She struggled off the bed, her legs trembling. She had no clothes on, only the thin silk sheet wrapped haphazardly around her body. Her bare feet stepped over the scattered Russian rubles, crushing them into the floor, but she didn't care.
Before the man could reach the door, Sofia collapsed onto the floor. She grabbed his heavy boots and clung to his legs with both hands. Her tears soaked the expensive leather of his shoes.
She wailed in desperation:
"No! Don't leave me like this! I beg of you, don't go! I will be your slave, I will stay at your feet like that red snake, but do not leave me alone in this silence!"
Sofia was completely broken. The woman who once shot Dimitri was now begging for the company of his shadow. The sheet was slipping from her shoulders, but she was beyond caring. She only clung to his legs, pleading:
"Chain me up if you want, give me more of that blue venom, but if you leave, I will die. Take me with you... don't go!"
The man stopped. He looked down at her pathetic state, the same cruel smirk on his lips. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so she was forced to look into his eyes.
He said coldly:
"See, Sofia? Last night you were a tigress, and today you are a beggar at my feet. Come then, you shall massage my feet in the drawing room. Let's see how good of a slave you can be."
Sofia's crying and pleading was nothing but a deadly trap. The moment she clung to his legs, the trained Major within her clawed its way back to the surface. She turned her humiliation and the drug-induced haze into raw, lethal power.
As the man arrogantly grabbed her hair to mock her, Sofia used every ounce of her strength to trip him (leg-sweep). Caught completely off guard, the man crashed heavily onto the floor.
In the blink of an eye, Sofia pounced on him like a leopard, her thin silk sheet still clinging to her frame. Before anyone could react, she pulled out a sharp knife she had hidden (perhaps beneath the pillow or within the folds of the sheet).
She pinned him down, kneeling on his chest, and pressed the cold blade firmly against his throat. A thin line of blood appeared as the steel bit into his skin.
There were no more tears in Sofia's eyes—only the burning fire of vengeance. Gritting her teeth, she hissed:
"What did you think? That a few rubles and some blue venom could tame Major Sofia? I killed Dimitri four years ago, and today, I will kill you. You said you left mercy in Dimitri's grave, right? Well, today I'm sending you to join him in that grave."
The man lay motionless, the cold steel pressing against his jugular. Looking at Sofia's wild hair and her face flushed with rage, he realized he had made the mistake of trying to cage a wounded tigress.
From the bed, the red snake reared its head and hissed, sensing that its true mistress was back in control.Despite the knife at his throat, the man burst into a chilling, demonic laugh. He knew the blue venom in Sofia's blood wouldn't let her stay in control for long.
He grabbed Sofia firmly by the waist, throwing her off balance. As she tried to strike, he pinned her wrist down. Under the influence of the hallucinations, the knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
He pulled her close, making her undo the zipper of his pants. He whispered harshly in her ear— "shhhhh... quiet, Sofia. You were trying to be a tigress, but your body says you are my slave."
Outside, Sofia's cries could still be heard—perhaps a recording or the echo of her own voice through the halls. The three maids outside knew exactly what kind of brutal game was unfolding within.
Beneath the bed, the Russian rubles lay scattered and crushed. The man began to scold and insult her harshly as he pinned her down:
"You stupid girl! Did you think this knife would save you? Your only place is on this bed and at my feet. Look at those bills they lie on the floor, filthy just like you. You are nothing but a beggar!"
He pushed her to the edge of the bed with a rough shove. Sofia lay there sobbing, her tears wetting the money on the floor, realizing she was trapped in this beautiful hell.The man's cruelty didn't end there. Leaving Sofia broken and sobbing in the corner of the bed, he stood up calmly. There was no remorse in his eyes, only the satisfaction of a conqueror.
He stood in the middle of the room and clapped his hands, summoning the three handmaidens. They entered immediately as the door swung open.
Pointing at Sofia with utter contempt, he ordered the maids:
"Clean her up. She reeks of the dirt from the floor and those cheap rubles. Bathe her and put that red nightdress back on her. I want her to look like a queen when she stands before me again so that I may enjoy breaking her all over again."
The three maids gripped Sofia firmly from both sides. She was lifeless, her body devoid of any strength to resist. She watched as the man lit his thick cigarette and walked out of the room with an arrogant stride.
As he left, he stepped on the money scattered on the floor, grinding it under his boots. As the maids dragged her toward the bathroom, Sofia saw the Russian rubles beneath the bed, now soaked in her tears and blood.
When the cold water hit her skin in the bathroom, Sofia stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her Phoenix tattoo now felt like a mark of her defeat. She could only whisper:
"He has broken me... he has bought me with his money..."