Chapter 11
Anthony had that familiar calm expression on his face, as if no matter where he was, he would not let any fear or anxiety enter him. And Mikhail Grayson, who was standing in front of him, could be seen in his eyes, restlessness, fatigue and a kind of inner anger that he was trying hard to control.
Mikhail had thrown the question first, without any courtesy, without any twists.
“Who sent you?” His throat was dry and hard. “Tell the truth, Anthony. Who are you? And why are you standing next to me?”
Anthony had been silent for a while, looking at him. There was a kind of hesitation in his eyes, but beneath that hesitation was a clear decision—he would say nothing.
“I promise,” he said slowly, very calmly. “I will not tell the name of the person who sent me. That is why I came
