The triumph of the gala was a potent, heady wine. For three days, the penthouse buzzed with a new energy. Sasha walked taller, the title "Sasha Volkov" no longer a secret but a shield she was learning to wield. Demetri, for the first time, seemed to breathe without the weight of a thousand imminent crises on his shoulders. He looked at his daughter not as a problem he’d solved, but as a partner he was cultivating. He began teaching her the language of the Volkov Group—not just finance, but the subtle art of power, the unspoken rules of the world he commanded.
Nora watched it all, her heart a tangled knot of love and dread. Every shared smile between father and daughter was a testament to the success of her lie. Every moment of bonding was built on the foundation of a truth she had buried.
