The city felt different after midnight.
Elena noticed it as she stepped out of the taxi, pulling her coat slightly closer around herself as the cool air brushed against her face.
During the day, the streets around the cultural district were always busy. Students rushed between buildings, musicians carried instrument cases, and tourists wandered past cafés and galleries.
But at this hour, everything was quieter.
The streetlights glowed softly against the pavement, and the occasional car passed slowly through the intersections.
She walked toward the entrance of the small music studio where she often practiced late in the evenings.
The building was old but well maintained, and the owner allowed a few trusted musicians to use the rooms after hours.
It was the perfect place to think.
And tonight, Elena had a lot to think about.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The familiar scent of polished wood and sheet music greeted her immediately.
Normally, practicing helped her clear her mind.
But tonight, her thoughts kept drifting back to the same person.
Adrian.
The gala.
Seraphina.
And the strange tension that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Elena sighed quietly as she placed her bag on top of the piano bench.
She had known Adrian years ago.
Back then, he had been quiet.
Mysterious.
But not dangerous.
Now, every conversation with him seemed to hint at something hidden beneath the surface.
Something complicated.
She rested her fingers on the piano keys but didn't play.
Instead, she stared at the glossy black surface of the instrument.
"Why do I feel like I'm missing half the story?" she murmured to herself.
Her phone buzzed lightly in her bag.
She reached for it.
A message from Marcus.
Marcus had been one of the few people Adrian trusted inside his company, and over the past few weeks he had occasionally checked in with Elena—usually in a friendly, casual way.
The message was short.
Marcus:
Late practice again?
Elena smiled faintly.
She typed back.
Elena:
Trying to keep up with impossible expectations.
A few seconds later, another message appeared.
Marcus:
You impressed half the city's most powerful people at that gala. I think you're doing fine.
Elena hesitated before replying again.
Then she typed the question that had been bothering her all evening.
Elena:
Can I ask you something?
There was a pause.
Then;
Marcus:
That sounds dangerous already.
She rolled her eyes slightly.
Elena:
Adrian.
Three dots appeared on the screen.
Then disappeared,
Then appeared again.
Marcus was clearly choosing his words carefully.
Finally the reply arrived.
Marcus:
What about him?
Elena leaned against the piano slightly.
Her curiosity had been growing stronger with every strange moment she noticed.
Seraphina's warning.
Adrian's constant watchfulness.
The way powerful people treated him with quiet respect… and sometimes fear.
So she asked the question directly.
Elena:
What exactly does he do?
The reply took longer this time.
When it came, it was noticeably shorter.
Marcus:
That's a complicated question.
Elena frowned slightly.
She typed again.
Elena:
He runs Volkov Group. I know that part.
Marcus responded almost immediately.
Marcus:
Yes.
She waited.
No additional explanation came.
Elena sighed softly.
Typical.
Everyone around Adrian seemed to answer questions like they were navigating a minefield.
Still… her curiosity refused to settle.
Instead, it grew stronger.
Because every time she tried to understand Adrian Volkov's world—
She discovered another locked door.
And Elena had never been the type of person who could ignore a mystery once it appeared in front of her.
Across the city, inside Volkov Tower, Adrian stood in his office staring down at a different phone screen.
Marcus' report had just arrived.
It contained only a few lines.
But the message was clear.
Elena Rivera has begun asking questions.
Adrian exhaled slowly.
That was exactly what he had hoped to avoid.
Because curiosity, in his world, was rarely harmless.
Sometimes…
It was the first step toward something far more dangerous.
And Elena Rivera had just taken that step.