But I don’t have the space for that right now.
“I just came from Matteo’s studio,” I say immediately, my voice tight.
That’s all it takes.
His expression shifts.
Sharpens.
“I heard him,” I continue. “He’s on the phone…with Anton. Or maybe someone connected to Anton.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Dangerous.
“He was giving him information,” I add, my voice dropping slightly. “Security rotations. Event details. Everything.”
Lukyan goes still.
Misha’s expression tightens in shock.
But Timofey—
Timofey doesn’t move.
Not at first.
Then slowly…his face darkens.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just cold.
Controlled.
Deadly.
“I’ll handle it,” he says.
The calm in his voice is worse than anger.
He turns his head slightly. “Misha.”
Misha straightens immediately. “Yes, sir.”
“Get Matteo to the interrogation room.” A beat. “Now.”
Misha nods once and leaves without another word.
The door shuts behind him.
Minutes later, I’m in the interrogation room with Timofey and Lukyan.
The air is colder here.
Still.
Waiting.
