Chapter 168The tip of Viktor’s combat knife was a cold, silver promise against the pulse in my neck. One twitch, one flicker of the wrong emotion, and the "Rai Kirov" project would end in a spray of real blood on obsidian floors."I’ll ask you one more time," Viktor whispered, the blade nicking my skin. "Who are you?"My heart was thundering, but I didn't pull away. I let my knees buckle, not a fall, but a slow, trembling collapse into a version of Rai that was raw, broken, and dangerously familiar. I let the tears well up, not the graceful tears of a martyr, but the ugly, frantic sobs of a daughter pushed too far."Is this what it takes?" I cried out, my voice cracking with a high-pitched desperation. "You find a body in a room, a girl who has been siphoning from our accounts for months and you assume I'm the stranger? You assume I’m the ghost?"I turned my head, the knife drawing a thin line of crimson on my throat, and looked Kirov directly in his startled eyes."Father, tell them
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