Raze didn’t shift much, but the energy in him changed.Like he was already running outcomes in his head.
Neither of them spoke, but I could see every question they weren’t asking.Every gap in the story they were trying to fill in real time.
Who the hell are you?
Why did you keep your secrets?
And what does this drag into our world now?
I’d spent years making sure no one asked those questions.
Names got buried.Histories got cut off at the root.You move far enough, long enough, and eventually people stop looking.Or they convince themselves there’s nothing worth finding.
I let them believe that because it made things easier.Because it kept the past where it belonged.
I dragged a hand down the back of my neck, slow, feeling the tension sit there like it always did when I recalled my family history.
“This isn’t just business to him,” I went on.“It’s history.”
Atlas’s jaw tightened.“What kind of history?”
I looked at him, then at Raze.Once it was said, there was no pulling it back.No pretending I was just another man passing through their world.
I’d kept that line intact for a reason.
People treated you differently when they knew where you came from.What you were tied to.What would come knocking if things went wrong.
It changed the way they stood next to you.Or if they stood next to you at all.
I held Atlas’s gaze.
“Vilevski wants you dead so he can seize control of your routes,” I said.“He wants me dead to get to you.But the only way he can get to me is through a proxy.”
“The contract on your head,” Raze intimated.
I nodded once.Silence came again.Thicker this time.
Raze’s eyes narrowed slightly.“Who are you, really, Popovich?”
I didn’t answer straight away.
I’d built distance from from my name.Put oceans between me and everything it came with.Let people believe I was just… me.
I exhaled once, steady.Then I gave it to them.
Their reactions were quiet, but they were delivered harder than anything they could’ve said.
Atlas leaned back slightly, like something had just clicked into place—and he didn’t like the shape of it.
Raze didn’t move at all.But his focus sharpened.Locked in.Assessing.Recalculating everything he thought he knew about me.
“Right,” Atlas said after a moment, voice slower now.“And when were you going to give us your truth, Archie?Would you ever, if Vilevski hadn’t forced your hand?”
“It explains a lot,” Raze added.
“You’ve been sitting on this the whole time,” Atlas said, not accusing.Not impressed either.Just stating it.
“Yes.”
