I let out a small chuckle, the sound lighter than anything I’ve made in days.
“Matteo, wait—don’t run off,” I say, shaking my head. “Just…go wait in my room instead.”
That seems to satisfy him immediately.
He pauses, brightens just a fraction, then nods.
“Okay,” he says simply.
And then he’s gone.
The tension doesn’t fully return after him—it just…reshapes itself.
Different now.
Less fragile. More contained.
I turn back to Sergei.
“I’ll walk you outside,” I say.
Sergei gives a small nod.
Before I can move, Timofey speaks.
“I’ll come with you.”
It’s not a question.
Not an offer either.
Just a statement of presence.
I glance at him briefly, then don’t argue.
“Fine,” I say.
Sergei watches the exchange but says nothing.
He simply adjusts his posture and heads for the door. Even though I don’t mention it, I’m grateful that Timofey is with me.
Chapter 12 – Timofey
The Rusnak estate is unusually lively the night of the gala.
Under normal circumstances, I would treat this as what it is—another calculated gathering. Another show of power. Another night of alliances dressed up as celebration.
Nothing more.
Nothing personal.
But tonight….
Tonight is different.
Security has been doubled—no, tripled—after Anton’s little performance. Every entrance is monitored. Every guest vetted twice. Armed men are positioned where they can’t be seen, which means they’re exactly where they need to be.
No one is getting in here without me knowing.
