“It’s been checked,” he says quickly. “No explosives. No devices.”
Doesn’t mean it’s safe.
I nod once. Then I reach for it. The moment I open the box, something cold settles deep in my chest. Not shock. Not fear. Recognition.
Inside…is the severed head of Sergei Volodin.
His expression is frozen.
Eyes half-open.
Mouth slack.
A man who walked out of this house alive…reduced to a message.
My jaw tightens.
There’s a note.
I already know who it’s from before I touch it.
I unfold it slowly.
No amount of protection will save her.
Silence fills the room, heavy and suffocating.
Behind me, I hear Misha shift slightly. Something inside me snaps. Anton isn’t testing boundaries anymore. He isn’t sending warnings. He’s escalating.
I’m still staring at the note when the door opens.
I don’t even have time to react before she steps in.
Valeria.
“What’s that?” she asks, already moving closer, her eyes landing on the box.
“Stop—”
Too late.
I reach for the lid, but she’s faster.
Her gaze drops inside.
And everything changes.
The color drains from her face instantly.
Her body goes rigid for half a second—
Then she turns sharply away.
A broken sound tears out of her throat as she gags.
“Valeria—”
She doesn’t hear me.
