Morana's Point Of View
The room buzzed behind me, a blend of whispers, camera clicks, and stunned silence still hanging like heavy perfume in the air.
But my eyes… they followed only one figure.
Nikolai.
He turned, flanked by two of his men, suited, sharp, stone-faced. Their movements were smooth, efficient, almost rehearsed. As if they were used to cleaning up messes, extinguishing fires, and making problems disappear.
Nikolai didn't glance back. Didn't hesitate. He just walked, that same lethal grace in every step like he ruled every inch of ground he touched. And in a way… he did.
He owned this moment.
He owned them.
And for the first time in a long time… I didn't feel like I was being devoured by the room.
I felt seen.
I watched him until the doors shut behind him and the press event shifted into its second phase.
But before I could even begin to breathe, I heard a voice behind me.
