INT. VIP ROOM – NIGHT
Alia has slowly drifted off to sleep. The candlelight now flickers faintly, and from afar, the soft notes of a violin play.
Victor slowly stands up, peace in his eyes. He glances at Alia—her face in sleep holds no fear now, only calm.
> VICTOR (whispering to himself):
"May your dreams be filled only with light..."
He walks gently toward the bathroom.
---
INT. VIP ROOM – BATHROOM – NIGHT
Victor enters. A soft blue light glows, hot water is already running into the tub, and the scent of lavender lingers in the air.
He stands in front of the mirror. His face shows a mix of fatigue and hesitation.
He takes off his shirt, revealing a scar across his chest—something he always hides.
> VICTOR (looking at himself in the mirror, in a low voice):
"There's a lot of history in these hands, Alia… but all I want to give you is love."
He slowly steps into the tub. The water envelops his body. He closes his eyes.
The camera slowly zooms out.
---
INT. VIP ROOM – BATHROOM – NIGHT
Victor gently washes himself in the hot water. The candlelight dances on the bathroom floor, the air thick with the scent of lavender and woodsmoke.
He closes his eyes and submerges himself for a few seconds, then resurfaces—water cascading down his white hair.
He stands again before the fogged mirror. Reaching out, he wipes the condensation.
Gradually, his reflection becomes clear.
His eyes—blue like a star-lit night, deep, and unnaturally luminous.
His eyelashes, brows, and wet hair—pure white, falling across his forehead.
He stares, almost as if he doesn't recognize himself.
> VICTOR (whispering, looking into his own eyes):
"Am I still human… or something else entirely?"
He looks down at his chest.
On the right side, just above his heart, is a mysterious tattoo of an owl—a perfect work of art.
From afar, it looks like a shadow on his skin, but up close, the wings seem to slightly move, as if hiding a secret.
The owl's eyes glow just like his—watchful, almost alive.
> VICTOR (a faint, melancholic smile):
"You're still alive in me… old memory or something more?"
There's a quiet sorrow on his face.
He knows—these eyes, this hair, this tattoo—have changed who he is.
---
INT. VIP ROOM – BATHROOM – NIGHT
Victor stands in front of the mirror. On his lips, an odd smile—not mockery, not joy—but the quiet acceptance of something long-inevitable.
> VICTOR (looking at his reflection):
"You said I wouldn't stay normal… You were right."
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Water drips down his chin.
Knock knock.
A soft tapping on the bathroom door.
> ALIA (from outside, gently):
"Victor? I… I wanted to take a bath. Are you done?"
Victor jolts slightly, as if snapped back to reality.
His eyes return to the mirror—his smile fades.
He quickly wraps a towel around himself, brushing his hair back.
> VICTOR (towards the door, calmly):
"Yes, Alia. Just a minute."
His hand on the doorknob, he pauses. That faint mysterious smile returns.
> VICTOR (whispering unconsciously):
"You still haven't seen all of me…"
---
INT. BATHROOM DOORWAY – MOMENTS LATER
The door opens. Alia stands in front, sleepy-eyed, but with a quiet curiosity and a trace of hesitation.
Victor stands, towel around his waist, wet hair pushed back. His body gleams in the candlelight.
Alia's gaze flickers momentarily to his chest—the mysterious owl tattoo still perched silently, watching.
> ALIA (softly, looking away):
"Sorry… I just thought—you—"
Victor smiles gently and shakes his head.
> VICTOR (in a soft voice):
"You thought right. The water's still warm. I'll wait."
He steps aside. Alia slowly walks in.
Victor doesn't look back. His eyes remain forward, but his face carries that same subtle smile—one that hides deep pain… and unspoken truths.
---
INT. VIP ROOM – BATHROOM DOORWAY – NIGHT
As Victor moves aside and Alia enters, suddenly—
Tap.
Victor's hand gently catches Alia's wrist.
She startles and turns, about to say something when—
He gently pulls her toward him. Their faces are close.
In one breath, in a kiss, he says:
> VICTOR (softly, with deep eyes):
"Love you."
Alia's eyes widen in surprise.
But then—she smiles softly, eyes full of warmth.
> ALIA (with a gentle breath):
"Love you too…"
They share a silent dialogue in that gaze.
Then Alia gently closes the door behind her.
She steps inside and stands in front of the mirror.
---
INT. VIP ROOM – BATHROOM – NIGHT
Alia washes her face, letting the cold water wash away the fatigue.
Her hair is long—wet and messy.
She picks up a straightener and slowly tames her hair, tying it up neatly.
Her eyes regain clarity; a quiet confidence returns to her face.
As the towel slips slightly, the mirror reveals—
A blue phoenix tattoo on the center of her chest.
Its wings seem to stretch between fire and sky—a symbol of rebirth.
Alia smiles faintly, staring at her reflection.
> ALIA (to herself, whispering):
"I'm changing too… but this time, I know who I am."
---
INT. VIP ROOM – FEW MINUTES LATER
Alia steps out, fresh, wearing a soft-toned silk dress.
There's no trace of fatigue—only a sense of inner peace.
She sees Victor half-reclined on the bed, reading an old leather-bound book.
In the candlelight, his face looks serene—his blue eyes fixed on the pages.
Alia walks softly to him and sits at the edge of the bed.
> ALIA (with a soft smile):
"You still read books?"
Victor closes the book and looks at her, that familiar mysterious smile playing on his lips.
> VICTOR:
"There's more than you know, Alia.
And I… I want to show you everything."
INT. VIP ROOM – NIGHT
Alia slowly sits down on the bed.
In the candlelight, shadows dance across her eyes.
Victor still holds the book but is now looking at Alia.
She stays silent for a moment… then speaks softly—
> ALIA (looking away, with quiet pain):
"Victor… I want to ask you something."
Victor lifts his head, giving her his full attention.
> ALIA (slowly, voice breaking):
"Do you only want… a physical relationship with me?
Sometimes the way you touch me… I can't tell—is it love or just some kind of… indulgence?"
A heavy silence settles.
The air feels dense.
Victor gently closes the book and sits up straight on the bed.
His eyes lock with hers. A steady firmness grows in his voice—
> VICTOR (soft but clear):
"Alia… I touch you because you awaken something in me.
But this desire—it's not a whim.
It's not just the body.
It's… you. All of you."
Alia is quiet. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.
> ALIA (wiping her eyes):
"I just… don't want to be 'something' to you.
I want you to feel me, know me, understand me—not just want me."
Victor gently comes closer.
He reaches out and touches her fingers.
> VICTOR:
"If I ever break your trust… I wouldn't forgive myself.
You're not just the body, Alia.
You're the light that stirs every part of me… the one that keeps me alive."
Alia looks at him for a long moment, then lowers her head.
Victor places a hand on her shoulder.
Alia doesn't cry this time. She just sits silently, comforted by his touch.
Yet in her eyes—there's a flicker of unrest.
She's thinking of something—something she's kept buried for too long.
Suddenly, she speaks—calm, but deep:
> ALIA (looking away, slowly):
"Victor… I have five children now.
Three girls, two boys."
Victor's face shows quiet surprise.
He listens intently.
> ALIA (gaze lowered):
"They're all far away from me.
I left the CIA for them.
Funny thing is, I never truly left.
I'm still doing things inside… things no one should know about."
> VICTOR:
"You're still active?"
> ALIA (gently nods):
"I was.
But now… it feels like the end.
I'm going to quit for real."
There's strength in her voice, but exhaustion too.
> ALIA (steady):
"I don't know if my kids are safe.
Lately, I even hear them crying in my dreams.
They miss me.
I haven't been much of a mother, Victor.
I became a sniper. A shadow."
Victor moves closer, his eyes focused and intense.
> VICTOR (softly):
"What you did… was to survive the war.
But what you're doing now—for them—
That's your bravest choice yet."
Alia closes her eyes and exhales deeply.
> ALIA (tears forming):
"Victor, I just want peace.
This time… I mean it."
Victor holds her hand—firmly.
> VICTOR (reassuring):
"Then we walk this path together.
You won't just survive, Alia.
You'll reclaim yourself.
And I'll be with you—every step of the way."
---
EXT. LUXURY HOTEL – EARLY MORNING
Scene Cut.
The sun has just risen.
A soft red glow in the sky, birds chirping, the empty street kissed by a gentle breeze.
Alia and Victor walk slowly along the marble path in front of the hotel.
Alia wears a light jacket, her hair loose, sunglasses on.
There's no hesitation in her steps now—
She's a woman who's reclaimed herself.
Victor opens the car door—a sleek black Audi Q8, gleaming in the morning light.
A moment of silence.
Alia glances back—towards the VIP room window.
It's a farewell to a chapter.
> ALIA (whispering to herself):
"I've let go from within…
Now I'll return to the outside."
Victor gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine.
The car's headlights flash on.
Alia gets into the passenger seat.
She clicks her seatbelt and looks at Victor.
> ALIA (with a subtle smile):
"So where are we going this time?"
Victor keeps his eyes forward, slowly pulling onto the road.
> VICTOR (deep voice):
"Somewhere… we can really be.
No war. No shadows.
But first… there's one more stop."
The car merges onto the highway.
The hotel fades into the distance.
The road ahead is long, straight—its end not in sight.
---
🎵 BACKGROUND MUSIC PLAYS
🎶 "There's a light… at the edge of the fight… and I'll follow you through the night…" 🎶
---
CAMERA PANS UP – SKY VIEW
The black Audi drives slowly down the highway, disappearing into the horizon beyond the city.
FADE OUT.
---
EXT. MOSCOW CITY PARK – WINTER DAY
Snow falls gently across a breathtaking Moscow park.
Sunlight filters through frosted green trees.
In the foreground, a long bench—Alia and Victor sit with five children and a caregiver beside them.
Alia wears a stunning G-Mystic dress—long, sky-blue with delicate silver shimmer.
Her hair is softly tied back, dancing in the cold wind.
The children all wear matching G-Mystic outfits—modern, stylish, and winter-ready.
The nanny smiles gently as she tends to them.
Near the ice rink, Alia skates gracefully—smooth, joyful.
Victor watches, smiling. The children laugh and play, bumping into one another.
Alia returns to the bench and sits, a quiet smile on her lips.
> ALIA (soft voice):
"Winter… and this city—feels like a true beginning."
Victor holds her hand.
> VICTOR:
"Even in this Moscow cold…
We've found our own kind of warmth."
The children gather around the bench, laughing.
The nanny wraps warm scarves around them, bringing everyone close together.
Alia stands quietly.
Margaret and Zainkha slowly walk up to her.
> MARGARET (stern):
"Alia, you know… Ava is our eldest daughter."
> (firmly):
"The three of us… are her parents."
Alia says nothing. She simply looks at them.
Suddenly, five-year-old Ava walks up, bold and unafraid.
> AVA:
"Abbu."
There's a moment of silence.
Then suddenly, Alia starts to laugh—gently, warmly, her eyes sparkling.
> ALIA (laughing):
"You two are always so close—why not just get married?
What do you say?"
Zainkha is silent for a moment.
Margaret smiles faintly, lowers her head, and says—
> MARGARET:
"I will.
If she's willing."
Zainkha is taken aback for a moment.
Then tries to smile, hiding her emotion—
> ZAINKHA (blinking away tears):
"Yeah… one day, I will."