The sound of hurried footsteps and murmured voices echoed through the sprawling corridors of the Romanov estate. Dmitri and Elías moved with practiced silence, shadows themselves as they maneuvered through the labyrinthine halls.
"Elías," Dmitri murmured, voice clipped. "What have you uncovered?"
Elías glanced back, eyes sharp beneath the dim light. "Their leader isn't who we expected. Someone close... someone within our circle."
Dmitri's jaw tightened. "Betrayal—inevitable in our world. But we'll root them out."
Suddenly, a door burst open ahead, and a figure lunged at Elías.
Instinct took over. Dmitri grabbed the attacker, twisting him to the floor with brutal precision.
"Elías, are you—"
"Fine," Elías hissed, retrieving a small knife from his belt and wiping blood from a shallow cut on his arm. "They're desperate. But so are we."
Dmitri studied Elías—the spy's determined expression, the fierce glint that never faded.
"You risk too much," Dmitri said quietly.
Elías met his gaze. "And you don't risk enough."
The words hung between them, heavy and charged.
"Perhaps," Dmitri said with a low chuckle, "we're both obsessed."
For a moment, the chaos outside faded, leaving only two men bound by shadowed secrets and impossible desire—trapped between the flames of duty and the pull of something far more dangerous.