Whoever it belonged to, he served my father. I know by the insignia. Which means this wasn’t just a warning.
It was a message carved in flesh.
This is what happens to anyone connected to you.
A slow breath leaves me.
I don’t have any family left, and I’m glad Sofia is here in America with me, but is that enough?
What about the hundred others who served my father? They weren’t family, but they were loyal. Would I watch them all die for it?
I try to take a deep breath. Because panic is useless.
Fear is expected.
And I refuse to give Anton anything he expects.
Still….
My chest tightens. Because beneath all the strategy, all the planning, all the cold logic, there’s a simple, unavoidable truth.
I’m not safe.
Not here.
Not anywhere.
And now, I’ve dragged Timofey into it.
My jaw tightens at the thought.
This was supposed to be calculated. Clean. A mutually beneficial arrangement. But Anton doesn’t respect boundaries. He doesn’t care about alliances. He burns everything in his path.
Which means this war is no longer just mine.
A faint sound behind me pulls me from my thoughts. The door opens. I don’t turn immediately.
I don’t need to.
I already know it’s him.
Timofey steps into the room, the quiet weight of his presence filling the space before he even speaks.
He’s still in his suit.
Of course he is.
I left him in the hall earlier, surrounded by his brothers, issuing orders like the world wasn’t tilting beneath our feet.
Like a severed thumb wasn’t sitting somewhere in this house as a warning to me. To the both of us.
My body stiffens instinctively.
It’s automatic now, this tension between us.
But slowly…it fades.
Because this isn’t like before.
