Chapter 40

• *A FEW HOURS AGO*
• A convoy of sleek black cars pulled up one by one outside the old Volkov palace. The loud screech of their tires cut through the cold air, grabbing the attention of both guards and servants who glanced up to see what was happening. The weak sunlight struggled to break through the gloomy grey clouds, giving the day a more ominous vibe than it was meant to have.
• Ivan Volkov stepped out of the car and paused for a moment to simply marvel at the grandeur of the site. He had been born here, spent his entire childhood running and hiding around this place. However, as he grew up, these same halls and expansive rooms began to feel like cuffs and shackles, binding him. If there was one thing Ivan Volkov could never stand, it was being lied to or manipulated. This place was the embodiment of the two things he hated the most.