chapter 23The old enemy returns.

As Alia entered the party, she immediately sensed the stunned gazes directed toward her. There was a newfound force radiating from her presence, a subtle brilliance in the elegance of her attire, and a mysterious light flickering in her eyes that everyone seemed to notice.

"Is that… Alia?" someone whispered from the corner of the room. "I've never seen her like this before."

For a moment, Alia could feel all eyes on her, but a strange calmness settled in her heart. She knew it wasn't just her outer beauty or confidence that set her apart—it was something deeper. And no matter how much attention she drew, she refused to let the external world define her.

At this elite evening party, where every guest was a symbol of status, Alia felt herself stepping into a new version of her own identity—a powerful, unwavering woman who knew how to take control of her world.

She walked further into the grand hall, passing a few familiar faces on one side and potential new threats on the other. Deep inside, she knew—this party was not just an event. It was a signal. A beginning.

After a while, Alia stood alone near a lavish table, holding a glass of chilled juice. The party buzzed around her with laughter and music, but within her, a quiet unease stirred. She took a sip and suddenly, behind her, she heard a strange, unsettling voice.

"Alia…" The voice trembled slightly, sending a chill down her spine.

She quickly turned around.

Standing in front of her was a face she recognized—an old enemy. Someone she had fought against in the past. A dangerous man who never accepted defeat. His eyes carried a cold, venomous look.

"You?" Alia said in surprise, staring straight at him—but there was no fear in her voice.

Just then, another man appeared beside him—someone Alia didn't know. Dressed in a designer jacket, exuding a glittering arrogance, he looked like someone important, someone dangerous.

"Is this your old friend?" Alia asked coldly, her voice calm but sharp.

Her enemy smirked and said, "Yes, I've returned, Alia. And this man is my ally. You don't know him… but you might want to."

Alia locked eyes with him and said firmly, "What are you trying to do? Scare me?"

The man smiled—a smile that didn't amuse, but threatened. Yet he could tell—Alia was no longer the woman she used to be. She was stronger now. Sharper. Ready.

"You've changed, Alia. But no matter how much you change, you'll never outrun me," he said, stepping closer.

Alia didn't flinch. Her gaze hardened.

"You can think what you want, but I know my path. And you will never be able to stop me."

Thus began a new chapter in Alia's life—facing not only an old enemy, but an unknown ally by his side. A challenge that would force her to become even stronger than before.

Looking directly into the enemy's eyes, Alia said coldly,

"Do you really think I'd ever trust someone like you again? You want me to go back to someone I once loved and now hate? No. That will never happen."

The man chuckled, but it wasn't amused—it was wicked.

"You don't know me, Alia. But I want something from you," he said in a disturbingly gentle tone.

"And I know… one day, you will be mine."

Alia's eyes narrowed.

"You want me? You, the one who once brought war into my life? Now you want love? There's no place for someone like you in my world."

The man's eyes darkened, and he began to step toward her. But Alia quickly read his body language and stopped him with a firm gesture.

Now, she knew she had to stand strong. Her voice didn't shake as she said,

"Russian."

Viki Wright.

Hearing that word, the man froze. Fear flickered in his eyes for a brief moment. He quickly stepped back—but his smile remained twisted, conflicted. He could sense that Alia knew exactly how to confront him now.

Alia stared him down.

"That fear in your eyes tells me everything. I'm on the right path."

His smile faded. Then, with a flick of his jacket, he said darkly,

"You may think you're strong now, but one day… you'll regret this, Alia. And by then, it will be too late."

He turned and left, but his voice, his shadow, and his warning lingered in Alia's mind. She knew he would return—but this time, she was ready.

The Russian boy looked straight into her eyes with a sharp glare and growled,

"You will be mine, Alia."

But Alia met his threat with a cold, dismissive smile.

"I will never be yours. I have a Victor."

The man was visibly shaken. He hadn't expected that. He was caught off guard—how could she speak of someone else so confidently, standing right in front of him?

He muttered, frustrated,

"You'll regret this someday, Alia. You'll regret it in ways you can't imagine."

But Alia didn't flinch.

"No," she said.

"That's just your fear speaking. I know what I want—and I know who I want to stand with."

The man stood silent for a moment, then shook his head and walked away in a single breath. Behind him, Alia's cold gaze followed—but she knew that now, her focus was only on Victor and the life ahead of her.

And so, the man left.

But his words left no trace of fear in Alia's mind.

Her eyes held a firm resolve—no matter where danger came from, she knew she would not be defeated.

The man stood silent for a moment, his face clouded with frustration. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he turned and walked away in a single breath. Alia's cold gaze remained fixed on his retreating figure, unwavering and piercing. Yet deep inside, she knew that from this moment on, there was only one person—and one life—that truly mattered: Victor.

Though he left, his words failed to plant even a seed of fear within her heart. Instead, a fierce determination burned in her eyes—a silent promise to herself that no matter what dangers awaited, she would never be defeated. Not now, not ever.

The night air seemed to hum with the unspoken challenge between them, but Alia was ready. Ready to face whatever shadows the past might cast, and stronger than ever to claim her own future.