Grigor froze.
The names hit him like blades slicing through the calm. A coil of something sharp and bitter twisted tight in his chest, crawling up his spine like live wires. His muscles locked, taut and deliberate, every fiber screaming a warning. Jaw clenched. Eyes darkened to a stormy shadow. The air around him thickened, humming with quiet, lethal intent.
Before anyone could breathe, before any hand could reach out, he drew his gun. Smooth, silent, and deadly, like a shadow manifest. Each step he took toward the door was measured, lethal, and unstoppable, except for one invisible tether holding him back.
Adrian's voice, calm yet edged with command, cut through the tension:
"Grigor. Step back."
