But his voice cuts through the room. Cold again. Commanding.
“Everyone out.”
No one argues.
Not even a second of hesitation this time.
The room clears in a rush of footsteps and lowered heads, and just before Elena sweeps through the door, Timofey calls, “Wait.”
Elena freezes in the threshold.
Timofey doesn’t look away from me when he speaks. “You. What’s your name?”
“Elena,” she says quickly, voice still shaking.
A beat.
Then he nods once.
“Good,” he says. “You did well.”
Her eyes widen slightly, like she didn’t expect that answer.
He finally looks at her then.
Focus sharp. Absolute.
“From this moment,” he continues, “you will personally oversee everything Valeria eats or drinks. No exceptions.”
Elena swallows hard. “Yes, sir.”
“The attacks are escalating,” he adds, quieter now, but no less dangerous. “I will not risk her again.”
His hand tightens slightly against my back, as if reinforcing the sentence with touch.
Elena nods quickly. “Understood.”
Then she’s gone too.
The door clicks shut.
Timofey doesn’t let go of me. Not even slightly.
“Tell me what happened,” he says.
His voice is steady, but there’s something underneath it now. Sharper. Controlled anger held on a very tight leash.
I swallow, still feeling the strange aftertaste lingering at the back of my throat.
“I was talking to a woman,” I begin slowly. “Blonde. She said her name was Elise.”
His jaw tightens immediately, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“We were just talking,” I continue. “Small talk. She made me laugh. I took a drink from a waiter and…then it started.”
My fingers flex slightly against the blanket.
“The dizziness. The…loss of control.”
