Viktor's arrival shifted everything.
Roman's remaining men hesitated, caught between their employer fighting Killian and this new threat emerging from the smoke.
"Stand down," Viktor commanded in Russian. "Or die."
His men raised their weapons. Professional. Disciplined. Outnumbering Roman's forces three to one.
Roman's men lowered their guns.
Smart.
Viktor's attention turned to where Killian and Roman still grappled on the floor. Both bleeding. Both absolutely feral.
"Enough," Viktor said.
Neither stopped.
Viktor nodded to two of his men. They pulled Killian and Roman apart. Held them at gunpoint.
"Let me go!" Killian struggled against the grip. "I'm ending this!"
"No," Viktor said calmly. "I am."
He moved to where Roman was being held, breathing hard, blood streaming from his leg wound.
"Hello, nephew," Viktor said. "It's been a long time."
"Uncle." Roman spat blood. "Come to watch Killian destroy another Volkov?"
