The room went still.
Not the kind of silence that felt empty.
The kind that arrived before violence.
Artyom's eyes lifted from Nikola to Viktor.
"A bounty," he repeated, voice low.
Nikola gave a single nod.
"Not small enough to ignore. Not large enough to be desperation."
Dmitri stepped in from the doorway, tablet in hand.
"It's strategic," he said calmly. "Anonymous source. Routed through six offshore syndicates and two dead networks."
Mikhail let out a short, humorless laugh.
"So someone wants us hunted without showing their face."
Yelena, seated near the far end of the table, crossed one leg over the other with elegant impatience.
"No," she said. "Someone wants to see which side moves first."
Her sharp eyes settled on Artyom.
"You."
Artyom met her gaze.
"Why me?"
Roman's voice answered from behind them.
"Because you are no longer a secret."
The room shifted the moment he entered.
Roman Volkov didn't need to raise his voice.
Power moved around him like cold air.
Valentin followed, quieter, but no less commanding in presence.
Roman's gaze rested briefly on Viktor.
"This changes the board."
Viktor's expression didn't move.
"It changes nothing."
Roman's eyes hardened slightly.
"It changes everything."
Across the city —
The Sokolov estate was no calmer.
Sergei stood in his office, a report open on the desk.
Pavel paced.
"They've put a target on him."
Makar leaned against the wall, voice cold.
"Then let Volkov bleed protecting him."
Leonid's fingers stilled against the armrest.
"That would be a mistake."
Pavel scoffed.
"He's not our problem anymore."
At that, the office door opened.
Nikolai stepped in.
He looked directly at Sergei.
"That's not true."
Silence.
Sergei slowly lifted his eyes.
For the first time in a long while, something unreadable passed through them.
"No," he said quietly. "He is still our blood."
Pavel stared at him.
The contradiction was too sharp.
Too late.
Too dangerous.
Back in Volkov Tower —
Artyom stood near the window again, city lights scattering across the glass like fractured stars.
Viktor approached.
Close.
Not touching.
But the air between them tightened anyway.
"You should stay inside," Viktor said.
Artyom let out a small breath that was almost a laugh.
"Do you plan on locking every door in Veligrad?"
"If necessary."
Artyom turned to face him fully.
"You still think this is something you can control."
Viktor's gaze darkened.
"No."
A pause.
"I think this is something I can survive."
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Artyom held his gaze.
"And what about me?"
Something sharp flickered in Viktor's expression.
"I'm making sure you survive too."
The silence that followed was different.
Less hostile.
More dangerous.
Because it carried something neither of them wanted to name.
Suddenly —
Dmitri's voice cut through the comm system.
"Movement."
Everyone turned.
The main screen lit up.
A convoy.
Black vehicles.
Approaching fast.
Nikola narrowed his eyes.
"Not Sokolov."
Mikhail stepped forward.
"Mercenaries."
Yelena's lips curved into something cold.
"They took the bounty."
Roman's voice was calm.
"Positions."
The tower came alive instantly.
Security doors sealed.
Routes shifted.
Weapons unlocked.
Artyom looked at the screen.
Five vehicles.
No insignia.
Professional.
Fast.
Hungry.
He felt something strange.
Not fear.
Recognition.
This was what being hunted looked like.
He should have been afraid.
Instead —
He felt ready.
Viktor noticed the change in him.
"Stay behind me."
Artyom's eyes lifted slowly.
"No."
Viktor frowned.
Artyom's voice was steady.
"If they came for both of us…"
A pause.
"They'll find both of us."
Outside —
Snow swirled under the neon glow.
The convoy stopped.
Doors opened.
Figures stepped out.
Armed.
Masked.
Moving with precision.
The hunt had begun.
And this time —
Artyom was no longer prey.