Alia let out a mysterious and triumphant smile. She had successfully brought both Victor's rage and his consent under her control. She didn't linger at the dining table any longer; it was time to assert her power as the Godmother.Leaving Victor's white shirt behind, Alia went to her room and changed into an incredibly regal and expensive outfit. She descended the stairs with the natural elegance of her 6'2" frame. Waiting in front of the palace was her favorite and most expensive customized black Rolls Royce.
Before departing, she called her son, Isrovona, over. Alia pulled a golden card from her purse and handed it to him.
Alia: "Isrovona, there is one billion (1 Billion) dollars on this card. Spend it on your elder sister's wedding shopping. I don't want a single flaw in this wedding. After all, it is the marriage of a daughter of the Romanov family!"
Isrovona stared at the card in shock. One billion dollars! That wasn't just a shopping budget; it was the budget of a small country.
Alia: (In a stern voice) "And listen, the palace decorations must not be ordinary. I want the most expensive and elite decorations in the world. The entire hall will be adorned with diamonds and precious stones. When Anashia enters this palace, he must understand exactly whose hand he is coming to take."
Isrovona bowed his head and accepted his mother's command. Alia put on her expensive sunglasses and stepped into the car. The engine roared to life, and she left the palace grounds with her massive convoy.
Victor stood on the balcony above, watching Alia's pride and power on full display. He knew she wasn't just going shopping; she was going to finalize a secret deal with Anashia.
Victor: (Muttering to himself) "You can decorate the palace with money, Alia, but I will be the one to make the final move in this game."
Meanwhile, Isrovona summoned the best decorators with the billion dollars his mother provided. The palace walls were being draped in expensive silk and crystals. All of Russia soon learned—the daughter of the Romanov empire was getting married to a former enemy and Alia's ex-boyfriend. The twist changed everything. Victor was fuming, thinking his wife was bringing her ex-lover, Anashia, into the house. But he didn't know the truth—Anashia has a twin brother who looks identical to him. Alia had arranged her daughter's marriage with the twin, not her ex.
As the groom stepped out of the car, Victor's hand went straight to his gun, his eyes bloodshot with rage. But Alia leaned in and whispered, "Relax, Victor. That's not Anashia. It's his twin brother. I kept it a secret just to see how much you truly trust me."
Victor was stunned. He had been played by the Queen herself. But even if it was the twin, the resemblance was haunting.As the groom, Anashia's twin, extended his hand for a handshake, Victor remained frozen in doubt. The resemblance was too painful. But then, his gaze shifted to the stairs.
There stood Alia's eldest daughter, dressed in a magnificent white gown. She looked ethereal, like a vision of peace amidst the chaos. She looked at her father (Victor) with such a soulful and pleading gaze, silently begging him to accept her happiness.
Seeing his daughter's magical eyes filled with hope, Victor's heart finally softened. He let out a deep breath and extended his hand to the groom. "For my daughter's sake, I welcome you," he said, though his voice still carried the weight of a warning. The daughter smiled, her face lighting up the entire room as she descended the stairs. The grandeur of the wedding had come to an end. The palace, once shimmering under a billion dollars' worth of diamonds and crystals, was now shrouded in a heavy silence. Above the lingering echoes of celebration, the melancholy tune of farewell began to play.As Alia's eldest daughter, Jarin, prepared to leave, tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She clung to her mother's neck, sobbing bitterly. This farewell wasn't just about leaving the warmth of a home; it was about stepping into the unknown, leaving behind the legacy of a vast empire.
The Three Fathers in Jarin's Life:
Victor: The man who had protected and raised her with unwavering devotion.
Zaikha: A significant part of Alia's past.
Margaret: A man whose relationship with Alia followed a different, complex equation.
But on this monumental day, only Victor stood by her side. Zaikha and Margaret did not come. They were both in different corners of the world, living their own lives with other families. Jarin had secretly hoped that all three of her fathers would be there to bless her on the biggest day of her life, but that emptiness gnawed at her heart.
Victor stepped forward to face Jarin, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He placed a gentle hand on her head and kissed her forehead.
Victor: "Don't cry, my child. What does it matter if Zaikha or Margaret didn't show up? I am here. From today, your life is in the hands of Anashia's brother. But remember—the doors of this palace will always be open for you."
Alia stood to the side, trying her best to mask her emotions. Her 6'2" frame seemed to stoop slightly under the weight of her daughter's departure. She wiped Jarin's tears and helped her into the luxurious Rolls Royce.
Jarin: (Sobbing) "Mom, do Dad Zaikha and Dad Margaret hate me? Why didn't they come, even for a moment?"
Alia had no answer. She simply gripped Jarin's hand tightly. In the game of power and domestic politics, so much is lost; Jarin's departure was a harsh reminder of that reality.
As the car slowly rolled out through the massive palace gates, Victor and Alia stood side by side. The billion-dollar decorations now felt utterly meaningless to them.Three months have passed. Even though the wheels of time kept turning, the void left by her eldest daughter's departure remained like a permanent wound in Alia's heart. Although that melancholy was often buried under the weight of luxury and the exercise of power, it never failed to strike during her moments of solitude.Alia sat in her office cabin, staring at a mountain of files. From her regal office, the entire city skyline was visible, but today, nothing could hold her focus. She pushed the files aside, took her sunglasses, and headed downstairs alone, without her bodyguards.
Sometimes, even a Godmother needs to breathe like a common person. Alia was walking alone on the sidewalk. Her 6'2" frame stood out even in the crowd, but she wasn't looking at anyone today.
As she walked past a small park, she froze at the sight of a mother and daughter eating ice cream. Jarin used to pester her just like that when she was a child.
Alia: (Whispering to herself with a deep sigh) "Three months have passed... my little Jarin is lighting up someone else's home today."
The cold breeze on the street brought tears to Alia's eyes. She wondered is Jarin eating well? Has she kept her expensive gowns with care? Jarin had asked her at the time of her departure why her other two fathers (Zaikha and Margaret) hadn't come. Alia still had no answer to that question.
Just then, Alia's phone rang. Victor's name flashed on the screen. It was as if Victor always knew exactly when Alia was breaking down emotionally.
Alia answered the call and wiped the corners of her eyes. She tried to make her voice stern and serious once again.
Alia: "Tell me, Victor, is there any urgent news?"
Victor's low, magical voice drifted from the other end.
Victor: "Stop walking alone on the streets, Alia. I know you're thinking about Jarin right now. Come home; tonight, the two of us will eat all of her favorite foods."
Alia smiled in surprise. How did this crazy Don manage to read her every thought? She looked up at the sky and took a long breath. This woman at the pinnacle of power realized today that ruling an empire is easy, but ruling a mother's heart is the hardest task in the world.