The darkness outside the Romanov estate pressed against the tall windows like a hungry beast, but inside, the atmosphere was electric—charged with unsaid words and quiet intensity.
Dmitri stood alone on the balcony, the cold night air brushing against his skin. His mind replayed the brief encounter with Elías over and over. The spy's confidence, the way he refused to back down—unlike anyone Dmitri had ever met.
"Elías Navarro," Dmitri murmured, almost to himself. The name tasted like a challenge, an enigma wrapping itself tighter around his guarded heart.
A soft knock pulled Dmitri from his thoughts. He turned to see Elías entering the balcony doorway, hands in pockets, eyes searching.
"You wanted to talk?" Elías asked, voice low but steady.
Dmitri gestured to the night sky. "This world we live in... it's built on trust and betrayal, often tangled beyond recognition. I want to know where you stand."
Elías stepped closer, the faint scent of leather and tobacco mingling with the night air. "I stand where I must. But trust? That's earned, not given freely—even to those seated next to me by paper and circumstance."
A slow smile flickered at Dmitri's lips. "We are bound by more than paper now, Elías. You'll see that."
"And yet," Elías countered softly, "some bonds are chains. Others... salvation."
Their eyes locked, an unspoken understanding passing between them—a fragile truce forged in shadows.
Suddenly, Dmitri's phone buzzed sharply. Glancing down, his expression hardened. "Trouble," he said. "And it seems our dance is just beginning."
Elías nodded, steeling himself. "Let's hope we don't step on each other's toes."
Dmitri's chuckle was low, almost amused. "With us? That's impossible."
The night carried their words into the void, two forces circling, drawn by a pull neither fully understood but neither could resist.