Adrik's confidence had blinded him. He believed that every step Soha took was under his control. But in these three years, Soha had not only strengthened herself—she had also prepared a secret counter-move within her own body against Adrik's hidden technology.
As Adrik pulled Soha toward himself, his hand slid beneath her transparent nightdress, touching her exposed skin. His eyes fixed on the tattoo at her throat, and a mocking smile curved his lips.
Adrik:
"This single mark is how I've always known you, Soha. As long as this tattoo remains on your neck, you belong to me."
What Adrik failed to notice was the second, identical tattoo hidden beneath Soha's hair on the left side of her back.
The tattoo on her throat was part of Adrik's technology.
But the matching tattoo on her back—Soha had had that one done herself, in a forbidden Russian laboratory.
This second tattoo was a jammer, and concealed within it was a microscopic poisoned needle.
As Soha leaned against Adrik's chest, she pressed the hidden tattoo on her back against his wrist.
Soha (whispering):
"You never knew, Adrik—the poison you mixed into my blood has now become the path to your death."
A sudden, burning pain exploded in Adrik's wrist. He tried to pull away, but it was already too late. A neurotoxin surged directly into his bloodstream from Soha's hidden tattoo.
Stunned, Adrik watched as the tattoo on Soha's throat began to fade—while the one on her back flared into a brilliant blue glow.
Adrik (gasping in agony):
"When… when did you do this? The same tattoo… here too?!"
Soha rose to her feet, pulling her torn white nightdress around herself. A demonic satisfaction gleamed in her eyes.
Soha:
"You played with clones. I played with real poison. Your clone game—and your technology—have only minutes left.
The tattoo on my neck was your symbol of slavery.
This one on my back is my weapon of freedom."
Adrik's skin began to turn blue as he writhed on the floor. In that moment, he understood that this twenty-two-year-old woman had reduced his thirty-four years of experience to dust—hidden behind a few millimeters of ink.
As Adrik's body curled on the floor in the blue burn of poison, a strange conflict stirred inside Soha. Could three years of hatred be erased in a single moment?
No.
Letting someone like Adrik die so easily would be too great a reward.
Soha wanted him alive—but by her mercy.
Clutching her torn nightdress to her body, Soha walked slowly toward Adrik. His face was contorted in pain; foam spilled from his mouth.
Soha (calmly):
"Dying would be too easy for you, Adrik. I want you to see this—
the woman you tried to sell like merchandise now decides whether you live or die."
She opened a hidden drawer in her wardrobe and took out a small silver syringe—the specially commissioned antidote, created for her in a Russian laboratory.
Grabbing Adrik by the collar, she straightened him and injected the antidote into his neck.
The Turn of Events:
Return of Life:
His blue-tinted body slowly returned to normal. His breathing steadied—but all strength drained away.
Mental Dominion:
Though the antidote saved his life, it left him completely numb. Adrik was alive—but incapable of moving even a finger.
Soha's Position:
Soha placed her foot on his chest. Adrik stared up at her, realizing the nineteen-year-old girl was gone. Before him stood a cold-hearted ruler of twenty-two.
Soha:
"I fixed you, Adrik. But remember—this life is no longer yours.
You chained me with a tattoo on my neck.
I've chained you forever beneath my feet—with addiction to this antidote."
Adrik tried to speak, but only a broken groan escaped his throat. He understood—Soha hadn't healed him completely. She had turned him into a living corpse, able to move only by her command.
His body lay helpless under the antidote's grip, his consciousness fully awake. The pressure of Soha's foot on his chest reminded him—the power had changed hands.
Adjusting her sheer white nightdress, Soha slowly sat down on top of him.
Soha leaned down until her face hovered inches from Adrik's. The scent of her hair and expensive perfume dulled his senses. Slowly, deliberately, she began unbuttoning his shirt—one button at a time.
Adrik tried to speak.
Soha pressed a finger gently to his lips.
Soha (in a whisper):
"Shhh… not a word, Adrik. I'm enjoying tonight's silence far too much."
When his shirt was fully open, Soha noticed the old scar on the left side of his chest—directly over his heart. She traced it lightly with her nail.
Adrik shuddered in pain and stimulation, but Soha's cold gaze froze him in place.
Soha:
"You wanted to strip me and sell me on the black market, didn't you?
Look now—I've stripped you in your own home.
Your thirty-four years of obsession now dance at the tip of my twenty-two-year-old fingers."
She bit lightly at his earlobe and whispered
Soha:
"I didn't fix you just so you could live.
I fixed you so that every moment, you feel this truth—
you are now my personal property.
From today, the tattoo on my neck is the noose around yours."
Through the thin fabric of Soha's nightdress, a victorious red glow seemed to burn. She rested her head on Adrik's chest and listened to his heartbeat.
The once-terrifying mafia don was now nothing more than a puppet in Soha's hands.The fake Adrik, lying on the floor with the blue tint of poison spreading through his veins, suddenly burst into a distorted, maniacal laughter. Even in his agony, he stared into Soha's eyes and croaked—
Fake Adrik: "Soha... the one you killed was merely a body. But the real devil is standing right behind you!"
Soha's blood ran cold. She had been sitting on top of Adrik after unbuttoning his shirt! But at that very moment, a warm breath brushed against her ear. A hauntingly familiar voice whispered—
Real Adrik: "It's me, Soha... I was never in front of you; I have always been your shadow."
Soha screamed and recoiled, throwing herself off the man. She saw the impostor slowly go limp, while the real Adrik stepped out from the shroud of darkness. Soha didn't waste a second. Clutching her thin sheer nightdress, she began to sprint through the endless corridors of the massive mansion.
The mansion was now an infinite labyrinth. Pitch blackness surrounded her, broken only by the occasional flash of lightning through the windows. Soha's bare feet slapped against the cold marble floor, and the sound of her heavy gasping echoed through the house.
Suddenly, Adrik's calm yet deep voice resonated through the speakers like a grim announcement—
Adrik: "Little bird, how far will you run in this vast cage? I clipped your wings long ago. The more you run, the more exhausted you'll become. And what's the use? All the keys are in my hand."
Soha froze in the middle of a grand hall. She saw Adrik's reflection in every massive mirror lining the walls. Everywhere she turned, he was there, smiling at her.
Adrik: "The more the prey struggles, the more pleasure the hunter feels, Soha. Did you really think that at 22, you could defeat my 34 years of experience?"
Soha fumbled against the walls in the dark, unable to find an exit. Her sheer nightdress was now plastered to her body with sweat. She realized she wasn't escaping; Adrik was lures her deeper into the heart of the darkness.
Adrik brought Soha into a secret chamber. There was almost no light, only the flickering glow of a few candles on the walls. He didn't set her on the floor but placed her on a high table. Her white sheer dress was now a mess of sweat and fear.
Adrik stood before her, cracking his knuckles. The ferocity in his eyes told Soha that no words or tricks would work tonight. Adrik was in no mood for mercy.
Adrik (In a low voice): "You thought you'd kill me with poison, and I'd welcome you with a garland of flowers? You were wrong, Soha. When I punish someone, they pray for death, but death does not come."
With a sudden, violent jerk, Adrik tore the collar of her thin nightdress. Soha screamed, but he pinned her hands firmly against the wall.
The Forms of Torture:
The Burning: Adrik picked up a lit candle. He began to drop the hot wax, drop by drop, onto her second tattoo on the left side of her back. Soha shrieked in pain, her body arching like a bow.
The Shackles: He pulled out leather straps and bound her wrists so tightly that she could only move her fingers.
The Markings: He bit down on her lip until it bled, leaving deep marks of his teeth and nails across her skin, as if carving his deed of ownership into every inch of her body.
Adrik: "These marks will stay on your body forever. Whenever you look in the mirror, you will remember who this body belongs to. I won't kill you, Soha; I will break you into pieces and rebuild you."
Soha went limp from the pain, tears streaming down her face, but Adrik felt no pity. He tilted her chin up.
Adrik: "Tell me, Soha, whose property are you? Admit that you are not a Mafia Queen, but my prized captive!"
Through half-closed eyes, Soha looked at him and gave a strange smile that startled him.
Soha (With bloody lips): "You... you can tear my body apart, Adrik... but the hate inside me is something you will never be able to make yours."
Furious, Adrik struck the spot on her back where the hot wax had been poured. Her scream of agony echoed through the silent room.
Adrik's years of accumulated rage, obsession, and addiction took a terrifying form. He was no longer satisfied with words or minor injuries. He wanted to embed his existence into every cell of Soha's body.
Adrik: "You fought hard, Soha. You made many men dance to your tunes. But tonight, I will crush your arrogance through your very flesh."
He wasted no more time, letting the full weight of his body collapse onto her. The pressure of his large, muscular frame began to crush her. As he began to use his primal strength and absolute dominance, every nerve in Soha's body trembled with a mix of unearthly pain and a terrifying shiver.
Soha's fair skin turned a Crimson Red from the torment and the intensity. Between the burn marks on her back and the iron grip of Adrik's hands, she felt herself going numb.
Soha (In a pained voice): "Ahhhhh... Adrik... let me go... please..."
But Adrik did not stop. He bit down on her lips to keep her screams from leaving the room. Every move he made was calculated, cruel, and dominating. He forced her to feel every touch. Her 22-year-old body was being torn apart like a ship in a violent storm.
Adrik (Growling lowly): "Tell me, Soha, for whom are you turning red? Whose body is this? Under whose right are you trembling like this today?"
Soha could no longer speak. Darkness began to cloud her vision. She realized there was no end to this nightmare. Adrik was breaking her physically so thoroughly that all the walls of her mind were collapsing. Just before she lost consciousness, she felt his toxic brand merging with her very blood.
The room fell silent, save for Soha's ragged breathing and Adrik's demonic laugh of victory. Soha was no longer a Mafia Queen; she was now the "Reddened" captive of Adrik's darkness.