Alia looked stunning under the soft glow of the chandeliers in the party hall. She wore a sophisticated gown with a silver-gray scarf draped elegantly over her shoulder, giving her an aura of regal poise. She knew her presence here was part of a much larger game.
Viktor was away on a secret mission outside the city, but his instructions had been clear: "Be brave, but do not reveal yourself."
As Alia glided through the hall, all eyes were on her. Suddenly, she spotted Colonel Ivanov standing in a corner, sipping champagne. Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced her expression to remain icy and calm.
Ivanov noticed her too. He looked as if he couldn't believe his eyes the Prime Minister's sister at such an event. He set his glass down and walked toward her.
With a sly smile, Ivanov said, "What a surprise! A lady of your stature at such a chaotic party? You seem familiar have we met somewhere before?"
Alia looked at Ivanov as if he were a complete stranger. There was no fear in her eyes, only a trace of annoyance and indifference. She replied coolly:
"You are mistaken, Colonel. I am seeing you for the first time today. I am here to meet some of my brother's friends. Please excuse me; I have people to attend to."
She brushed past him, leaving Ivanov standing there in shock. He wasn't sure if this was truly Alia or if he was being led into a complex trap.
As Alia disappeared into the crowd, she smiled to herself. She knew Ivanov was now confused and second-guessing himself. This was the first step in Viktor's plan to disorient the enemy without them even realizing it. Seeking a brief respite from the noise, Alia sat at a quiet table in the corner, sipping a glass of lemonade. She wondered if Ivanov would give up.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. She knew instantly that Ivanov had followed her. He leaned in close from behind and said in a smooth, oily voice, "Drinking lemonade all alone? Sitting by yourself in a crowd like this doesn't suit a beauty like you. Your hair is absolutely stunning, by the way you have such exquisite taste."
The sleazy compliment made Alia's skin crawl with disgust. Viktor wasn't here, but today, she was her own protector. She turned to face him without a flicker of fear or shame. She locked eyes with him and asked an unexpected question:
"How old are you, Colonel?"
Ivanov was caught off guard by the non-sequitur. He hesitated for a moment, then tried to laugh it off. "My age? I'm not sure why you're asking, but I'm in my forties."
A mysterious smile played on Alia's lips as she replied in a chillingly calm tone:
"Then you are old enough to be mature, Colonel. But your behavior suggests you're still stuck in your teenage years, trying to get a woman's attention with foolish lines. Touching hair or giving unwanted compliments is that part of your professional training?"
Ivanov was stunned. He had expected her to be rattled, to be easily manipulated. But this woman was sharper than a blade. A crease of concern formed on his brow he realized he wasn't dealing with an ordinary girl. Then Alia says, "What is your name?"Ivanov was taken aback. He was accustomed to exerting influence as a Colonel at such events, but this young woman was interrogating him as if he were an interviewee. He straightened his posture, regaining his usual cold demeanor.
He replied in his familiar icy tone, "My name is Colonel Ivanov. And I don't think we needed to exchange names here, because you are such a mysterious figure that a name hardly seems to matter."
Alia placed her glass on the table and leaned back in her chair. A mocking smile played in her eyes. She looked at Ivanov as if she were observing an insect.
Alia said calmly:
"Colonel Ivanov? The name sounds familiar. But I'm afraid it's unlikely that someone like you would be on my list of acquaintances or important contacts. Do you think telling me your name would suddenly make me impressed? Is this how you try to impress every woman, or is tonight just particularly lonely for you?"
Ivanov was seething with rage, but he kept his composure. He realized that every sentence Alia spoke was calculated to insult him. He whispered low: "You are very brave, beautiful. But do you know that the fate of brave women often turns out to be quite tragic?"
Alia adjusted her scarf and stood tall. Looking directly into his eyes, she replied:
"Tragedy is feared by those who stand on lies, Colonel. I haven't committed any mistake that would make me afraid. And yes, my time is very valuable so if you have any important work to attend to, please feel free. Wasting your time with me is not going to do your career any favors."
Alia turned and walked into the crowd, leaving Ivanov stunned. He stood there like a statue. He realized that this woman was not just the Prime Minister's sister she was something far more formidable, someone nearly impossible for a man like Ivanov to control. Ivanov followed her, stepping quickly to block her path. He offered a sheepish, almost apologetic smile and said, "I made a mistake, Alia I apologize. Actually, I exaggerated. I am only 36 years old. As a Colonel, I suppose I try a bit too hard to maintain a serious persona."
Alia looked at him, her eyes filled with cold disdain. She placed her glass on a passing waiter's tray and replied in a chillingly calm voice:
"Whether you are 36 or 35, it makes no difference to me, Colonel. But the way you feel the need to lie about your own age reveals just how deeply insecure you are. When a man has no real achievements or truth to stand on, he tries to project himself through his age or his rank."
Alia leaned in close, whispering to him:
"Instead of being proud of what you've achieved at 36, you should consider this: at your age, having to lie just to gain a woman's attention isn't that embarrassing for your character? My brother taught me that those who lie about their own identity never truly succeed. And believe me, your '36 years of experience' means absolutely nothing to me."
Alia adjusted her gray scarf, locked eyes with him, and said with a dismissive flick of her wrist:
"Now, go waste someone else's time with your 36 years of experience. Do you have any mental strength left to continue this conversation?"
Before Ivanov could even muster a response, she turned and walked away. Ivanov stared at her retreating figure, trembling with rage. He had dealt with countless criminals in his life, but he had never encountered a woman so fierce and fearless.Ivanov could no longer contain his rage; his ego had been deeply wounded. He grabbed Alia's arm with a grip like iron. Gritting his teeth, he hissed, "Alia! Do you have any idea who you are playing with? You are testing my patience to the breaking point."
Ignoring the curious gazes of the guests, Ivanov dragged her through the corridor, straight to a highly secure VIP room at the end of the hall. He swiped his access card, opened the door, and shoved her inside.
The room was dimly lit and opulently furnished. Ivanov locked the door from the inside and turned to face her, his eyes burning with predatory intensity.
"You clearly don't know me, which is why you dare to speak to me this way," Ivanov roared, pacing the room. "Do you think because your brother is the Prime Minister, you can do whatever you want? I hold power now that neither your brother nor your mafia lover could ever imagine!"
Alia stood in the room without a flicker of fear. In fact, she looked as though she had been waiting for this moment. She calmly took the gray scarf from her shoulders and placed it on a side table. She knew this room wasn't a prison it was the stage for the trap she had been waiting to set.
Alia looked Ivanov in the eye with a mocking smile. "Why are you screaming like a madman, Colonel? Did you bring me to this VIP room to scare me? You can trap me within these four walls, but you can never trap my spirit. Have you stopped to think that by bringing me here, you've just dug your own grave?"
Ivanov faltered for a second. He had expected tears or a plea for mercy, but her calm, defiant attitude made him hesitate. He couldn't tell if she was truly naive or if she had a much deadlier master plan unfolding. Ivanov unbuckled his belt, a predatory madness burning in his eyes. He stepped closer to Alia, sneering, "Everyone calls you a 'symbol of beauty.' I'd heard you were calm and gentle, but today I've realized your beauty is only on the surface. You are fierce inside, and I've just proven it. But now, you must pay the price for that beauty."
Every muscle in Alia's body tensed. The closer Ivanov came, the calmer she became. She had no weapon, but her mind was burning like a volcano. She knew that any display of fear right now would be her undoing.
As Ivanov drew near, raising the belt, Alia shouted with authority:
"Get back! Stay away from me!"
Her voice carried a strange command that momentarily paralyzed Ivanov. Alia took a step forward, meeting his gaze directly, completely fearless.
"Do you think you're powerful? Do you think a belt can scare me?" Alia looked at him with a disdainful laugh. "You talk about beauty, but you have no idea what level of destruction is hidden behind it. Do you have any idea whose radar you've just entered by stepping into this room?"
Ivanov frowned, looking around, a sudden, inexplicable dread dawning on him. He froze, the belt still in his hand. Alia's boundless courage sparked a seed of terror in his mind had he made a mistake? Had he truly walked into a massive trap?
Alia said in a chillingly cold voice, "There is still time, Colonel. Drop the belt and get out of here. Or else, tomorrow morning's headlines won't feature your heroic deeds, but the tragic end of your crimes. My brother and Viktor... they already know exactly where I am. Whatever you do next, do it carefully."
Ivanov's hand trembled slightly. Had he really invited a catastrophe upon himself?