The sound of the piano didn't travel far.
The private music room on the executive floor was designed that way. Thick walls, insulated doors, and layers of quiet luxury ensured that whatever happened inside remained inside.
But silence in a building like Volkov Tower was never absolute.
Especially when the wrong person happened to be nearby.
Across the corridor, a man paused.
Dmitri Koval had spent nearly fifteen years working within the Volkov empire. Officially, he managed international logistics.
Unofficially, he served a more delicate purpose.
He was one of the few men trusted by Alexander Volkov to observe things others might miss.
Tonight, he had been walking toward the elevator when something unusual reached his ears.
Music.
Soft.
Faint.
But unmistakable.
He stopped.
The melody drifted quietly through the hallway, subtle but precise. It wasn't the clumsy playing of an amateur or the careless noise of someone entertaining themselves.
It was controlled.
Intentional.
Emotional.
Dmitri frowned slightly.
Very few people in the building would dare touch the piano in that private room.
And fewer still could play like that.
Curious, he moved closer.
The music continued for another minute before stopping abruptly.
A door opened down the hallway.
Dmitri stepped casually into the shadow of a nearby pillar.
Seraphina Orlov emerged from the room.
She walked past without noticing him, her expression thoughtful but calm.
Dmitri raised an eyebrow.
Interesting.
He waited until she disappeared around the corner.
Then he approached the door slowly.
He didn't enter.
He didn't knock.
Instead, he simply stood there for a moment, listening to the silence that had returned.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Because in a building where every action carried meaning—
This small moment meant something important.
And Dmitri knew exactly who would want to hear about it.
⸻
Later that night, another office on the same floor remained lit.
Alexander Volkov sat behind his desk reviewing several documents.
The room felt colder than the rest of the building.
Dmitri stood across from him.
"You requested a report," Dmitri said calmly.
Alexander didn't look up.
"Yes."
"There is something you should know."
That was enough to gain Alexander's attention.
He closed the folder in front of him.
"Go on."
Dmitri folded his hands behind his back.
"A few minutes ago, I heard music on the executive floor."
Alexander's eyes sharpened slightly.
"That room hasn't been used in years."
"Yes."
"And yet tonight…"
Dmitri paused.
"…your son was playing the piano."
The silence that followed stretched for several seconds.
Alexander leaned back slowly in his chair.
"That's unusual."
Dmitri continued.
"He wasn't alone."
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
"Explain."
"Miss Orlov was there."
Alexander considered that information carefully.
Seraphina's presence wasn't surprising.
But the music…
That was different.
"Did you hear the piece he was playing?" Alexander asked.
Dmitri nodded.
"Yes."
"And?"
Dmitri hesitated.
Not because he feared the answer.
But because he understood the implications.
"It sounded… personal."
Alexander's expression hardened slightly.
"I see."
He stood and walked toward the large window overlooking the city.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Dmitri remained perfectly still.
Finally, Alexander spoke.
"Music is a strange weakness."
Dmitri didn't respond.
Alexander continued quietly.
"It reminds people of things they should forget."
His voice had grown colder.
"Things that interfere with discipline."
Dmitri understood the meaning immediately.
"You believe this is connected to the girl."
Alexander didn't answer directly.
Instead, he turned slowly.
"Elena Rivera."
The name sounded foreign in the room.
Alexander's gaze settled on Dmitri.
"Find out everything about her."
Dmitri inclined his head.
"Of course."
Alexander's voice hardened slightly.
"Where she goes."
"Yes."
"Who she speaks to."
"Yes."
"And whether she understands the position she has placed herself in."
Dmitri nodded once more.
"I'll begin immediately."
As he turned to leave, Alexander added one final sentence.
"If this girl becomes a problem…"
His voice remained calm.
"…we will solve it."
The door closed quietly behind Dmitri.
Alexander remained standing near the window.
Far below, the city lights flickered like distant stars.
For most people, music was harmless.
Beautiful.
Innocent.
But in Alexander Volkov's world—
A single melody could reveal a dangerous truth.
And tonight, his son had just played one.