✛ Huh? How was this possible..?

Fyodor presses his hand against his bleeding shoulder, taking a few steps back. He was outsmarted? By his subordinate? How? Why? A thousand thoughts, a million questions.. and yet..

"Did you have to miss my vital organs?" His sultry voice replies, a weak, yet excited smile on his face. Then, he goes cold.. "Wrong shoulder, Золотце."

You're a traitor. And yet, he's calling you darling with a bullet in his shoulder. How laughable.