Inna tilted her head slightly, studying him the way one studies a stranger.
“No, Lyosha,” she said calmly. “This is not a performance. This is the conclusion.”
Natasha shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“What does this mean?” she asked, her voice no longer confident, no longer bright. “What exactly are you saying?”
Inna turned to her, her gaze steady—not angry, not cruel, but precise.
“I’m saying,” she replied, “that the man you chose… comes with debts, obligations, and consequences he didn’t bother to mention.”
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