Bedroom, warm romantic lighting
Time: Night
Alia takes another deep breath in her sleep.
Anashia wraps her arms around Alia's waist.
They melt into each other,
lost in the rhythm of music,
in the dim glow of romance.
The camera slowly zooms in on them.
The sound fades.
They disappear into the stillness of the night.SCENE: Ambush in the Rain
Setting: Empty street, dimly lit
Time: Late night, rain falling
Alia is walking back slowly,
a small bag in her hand.
Her dress is slightly soaked from the rain.
Hair loose, eyes tired — but she carries a sharp elegance.
Suddenly —
A gang of men in black clothes surrounds her.
Their eyes are feral, weapons in hand — rods, chains, knives.
They whisper in Korean:
Mafia Leader (in Korean):
"그녀가 바로 그 여자야... 끝내자."
("Geunyeoga baro geu yeojaya… kkeunnaeja." — "That's the girl… finish her.")
Alia narrows her eyes.
Something awakens inside her — her training.
She drops the bag.
One thug runs at her — Alia grabs his wrist and slams him to the ground.
Another swings a knife —
She redirects his hand onto glass — twist —
A kick lands below his chest.
One attacks from behind —
Alia ducks low, flipping him over her back.
The rain intensifies.
The mafia leader approaches, holding a steel rod.
Alia locks eyes with him.
Alia (in Russian):
"Ты выбрал не ту женщину, с**а."
("Ty vybral ne tu zhenshchinu, suka." — "You picked the wrong woman, bastard.")
A kick — the rod flies from his hand.
She grabs two more thugs, slams them down.
One by one, they fall —
and finally flee.
Alia calmly picks up her bag,
and with a faint smirk:
Alia:
"They all think I'm just a pretty face."
She walks into the night,
leaving broken men behind her.
SCENE: The Goodbye
Setting: Private airstrip, early dawn
Location: Preparing to leave for Russia
The sky glows pink. Light fog rolls over the runway.
A private jet waits, engines humming.
Alia sits alone on a white bench beside the hangar.
She's dressed in a white coat over a black turtleneck.
A small travel bag in her hand.
Tears in her eyes. Head down.
The crew waits near the plane.
She's not boarding.
Alia (soft whisper):
"This journey… it's not just to Russia.
It's the journey of leaving you behind."
She wipes her eyes, but the tears won't stop.
Suddenly —
Footsteps from behind.
Anashia is walking toward her.
Wearing a black hoodie, eyes heavy with exhaustion,
but steps steady.
Alia doesn't look. She just says:
Alia:
"I thought… you wouldn't come."
Anashia:
"I couldn't stay without seeing you."
Anashia stops in front of her.
A moment. Silence.
She gently touches Alia's face,
leans in, and kisses her forehead softly.
Anashia (whispers):
"You may leave…
but your scent will stay in my air."
Alia's eyes fill again.
Alia:
"You have no idea how much it hurts to leave you..."
Anashia:
"If you ever come back…
I'll be here. Waiting. Every day. Every night."
In the distance, the engines roar louder.
A crew member calls out:
"Ma'am, the plane is ready."
Alia slowly stands.
Anashia takes out a small pendant from her pocket,
places it in Alia's hand.
Engraved: Сирена
(Russian for "Sirena" — Siren)
Alia kisses it. Eyes closed.
Alia:
"When someone calls my name…
remember, I loved you. Always."
She looks at Anashia one last time,
then turns toward the stairs of the jet.
SCENE: Takeoff
Setting: Jet runway
Time: Sunrise
Alia sits by the window.
The jet begins to taxi.
Anashia stands in the mist, slowly fading from view.
Music plays softly
Saint Avangeline – "Lilith"
(A haunting, romantic, tragic melody)
Alia climbs the stairs of the jet.
Her eyes wet, but her steps unwavering.
The pilot holds the door open.
Bright light inside, outside — cold darkness.
She stops halfway up.
Looks back.
Anashia is still standing, unmoving, eyes glistening.
Alia (inner voice):
"My life..."
"Four men… four hearts..."
"Each of them still loves me."
"Victor – the first man who truly saw me."
"Anashia – in whose eyes I'm a siren, a mystery."
"And two more… who are shattered reflections of my own heart."
"I couldn't belong fully to anyone…
Maybe not even to myself."
"But I loved them. Each of them.
Differently. Truly."
"That's my punishment… and my gift."
A tear rolls down Alia's cheek.
She looks back once more.
Raises her hand — one last goodbye.
Anashia doesn't move, just stands — tears falling.
Alia walks into the jet.
The door closes.
SCENE: Russia – Arrival
Setting: Moscow private terminal
Time: 10:00 AM
Atmosphere: Bright cold sunlight, snowy runway
The private jet lands.
Surrounded by 30 luxury cars —
Bugatti, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Lamborghini Urus.
Bodyguards, press, media — all waiting.
Large screen flashes:
"SIRENA RETURNS TO RUSSIA"
A long black limo waits at the front.
The door opens.
And there stands — Victor.
In a long black coat, silk scarf around his neck,
sunglasses hiding his expression.
He removes them slowly.
His blue eyes glint —
cold, strong… but hiding pain.The jet door opens.
Alia descends slowly.
She's wearing a soft white fur coat,
hair loose, sunglasses, lips firm with elegance.
Camera flashes explode.
Behind the jet, a logo:
"SIRENA GLOBAL"
Reporters shout:
"Ms. Alia! Is it true you're taking over VictorCorp?"
"Are you here for business… or for him?"
"What about the scandal in Seoul?!"
Alia doesn't stop.
She walks straight to Victor.
Sound drops — complete silence
Victor takes one step forward.
His eyes filled with quiet admiration… and a mature love.
Victor:
"Ты всё ещё моя сирена?"
("Ty vsyo yeshchyo moya sirena?" — "Are you sAlia (calm but firm):
> "Ya uzhe ne tvoya. Ya svoya."
("I'm no longer yours. I belong to myself.")
till my Siren?")
Alia slowly removes her sunglasses.
Alia:
"Я уже не твоя. Я своя."
("Ya uzhe ne tvoya. Ya svoya." —
"I'm not yours anymore. I belong to myself.")
The photographers keep clicking...
But none of them know —
In these two pairs of eyes
lies a war,
a love,
and a past… that never truly ended.
Victor takes a step back,
gesturing toward the open limo door.
Alia silently steps in.
The door closes.
The car pulls out slowly —
followed by a 30-car convoy of media and security.SCENE: Inside the Limo
Sunlight filters in through the car window, landing on Alia's face.
She sits quietly, her hair damp — perhaps from rain, or from tears.
Victor sits beside her,
his hand gently holding hers.
No words.
Only breath.
The soft hum of the engine.
And what the eyes can't say aloud.
Alia slowly leans her head on Victor's chest.
She wraps her arm around his waist.
Says nothing — just silence.
Victor stares for a moment…
then pulls her into a firm embrace.
His blue eyes glisten —
but his face remains calm, composed, as always.
(Victor's inner voice):
."I wanted you to be free…
But I never wanted you to be away from me…
You're back now,
but I know… you're no longer the Alia I knew.
You're fire. I'm shadow.
And tonight, we're both burning —
but together."
Alia (softly, whispering):
"Please… don't ask me to leave again. I'm tired…"
Victor:
"You're not going anywhere this time."
"You'll stay — on your terms, in your name."
He kisses her forehead.
And in that moment,
a silent vow between them —
Maybe not love.
But understanding.
Acceptance.The car rolls through the streets of Moscow.
Outside a giant billboard reads:
"SIRENA — RETURNS TO POWER."
SCENE: The House of Marble
Time: Midday
Place: A grand marble hall with a majestic chandelier
Mood: Quiet… yet trembling with anticipation
The doors open slowly.
Inside — five children, of varying ages,
stand in a row, eyes wide, frozen.
In all their eyes — one question:
"Is Mom really back?"
Alia walks in slowly.
Tears in her eyes.
No bag in hand — only love.
She looks tired… but glowing —
like a mother who's shed her royalty
for a place in someone's arms.
Suddenly —
The youngest girl runs and screams:
"Mommy!!!"
She leaps into Alia's arms.
One by one, all five rush in —
hugging her from all sides,
front, back, holding onto whatever they can.
Alia kneels down, arms wide,
hugging them all, sobbing.
Alia:
"My babies… my soul…
I've come back.
And I'm not going anywhere now."
Children (all at once):
"Mom, we missed you so much!"
"Where were you all this time?"
"We were starting to forget your smell…"
"Will you leave again?"
"Will you tell us a story tonight?"
Victor watches from a distance —
Tears in his eyes.
A soft, peaceful smile on his lips.
Alia gently places a hand on each head.
Kissing each child's forehead.
Alia:
"From today… every day,
I will be with you."
Children (excitedly):
"Mom, will you sing for us?"
Alia wipes her eyes, smiling.
"Tonight… just for you,
I'll sing an old song."
SCENE: Twilight in the Library
Time: Just before sunset
Place: Library room beside a grand dining hall
Mood: Peaceful, scented with old books, bathed in warm white light
Alia is laughing, playing with her children.
They're singing songs, drawing,
filling the house with joy.
But in one corner —
Victor sits alone in an old wooden chair.
A teacup in hand.
Eyes distant…
His heart —
stuck somewhere it can't leave.
Monologue (Victor's inner voice):
"What was I once… and what am I now…
Once, I was her everything.
And today, I'm just… her past — a shadow."
"This house… once a battlefield.
Now, a sanctuary of peace.
But in that peace…
Did I lose my place?"
His gaze drifts toward Alia.
She's smiling, her daughter's hand stroking her hair.
Victor brings a soft smile to his lips…
But his eyes remain wet.
Victor speaks to himself, quietly:
"What were we?
A war?
Or just an unfinished story halfway told?
She's a mother now…
And I — just someone who watches."
A butler approaches gently:
"Sir, shall I serve the meal?"
Victor shakes his head softly.
His voice is gentle, worn:
"Later…
For now, I just need a little… silence."
He closes his eyes,
leans his head back against the chair.
Final Monologue (Victor's inner voice, eyes closed):
"She's returned…
But we'll never return to what we were.
Still — I love her.
Even now.
In silence."