Chapter 567

Who had done it?

Voskaya didn’t need to think very hard to figure that one out. She probably could have solved it with the heel of her high-heeled shoe.

Once upon a time, her father had been determined to give her a normal life, far removed from the notorious arms dealer he was. As a result, they rarely saw each other, and the relationship between father and daughter had always been distant.

Then Milkhak had nearly died.

For an entire month, he had lain in a hospital bed, hovering between life and death. Voskaya had stayed by his side throughout it all, taking care of him with the devotion of a daughter who had finally been given the chance to repay years of neglect.

Most of the time, Milkhak had been unconscious from the pain.

But he had still understood what she was doing for him.

He had been moved by it. He had also been consumed by guilt over how distant he had been from his daughter all those years.

So once the curse was removed, Milkhak had decided he would find some way to make it up to her.

Unfortunately, before he could figure out how, some idiot had walked directly into his line of fire.

It was a useful lesson.

Power didn’t mean you could do whatever you wanted.

At the very least, you should learn who you were dealing with first.

It was rather like beating up some random kid because you thought his father was just a harmless reporter, only to discover later that the "reporter" was actually a costumed superhero with an S emblazoned across his chest.

Unfortunately, Voskaya found none of this particularly amusing.

She understood why her father had acted. She knew he had been trying to protect her.

She simply hated the way he’d gone about it.

And now she had inherited an enormous mess.

She and her former boss had gotten into a very public argument before things escalated into an actual fight. Plenty of people had witnessed it.

Then the man turned up in pieces at the bottom of a river.

Who, exactly, did the police think the first suspect would be?

Voskaya was taken in for questioning and spent a very long time explaining herself.

Fortunately, she had a solid alibi.

More importantly, the forensic investigation had uncovered the rather spectacular truth.

The man had been shredded by approximately two hundred rounds from a Soviet Goryunov heavy machine gun dating back to World War II. His remains had then been stuffed into woven sacks and dumped into the Volga.

The weapon itself weighed roughly forty kilograms.

The police apparently decided that a woman of Voskaya’s build was unlikely to have casually hauled around a forty-kilogram machine gun and fired two hundred rounds through someone.

So they let her go.

Technically.

She was still on their suspect list.

They placed her under surveillance and began investigating her personal connections.

Eventually, they traced those connections back to her father.

At that point, the police quietly classified the case as unsolved and filed it away.

That was when Voskaya began seriously considering leaving Russia.

As long as she remained in the country, there was no telling when her father’s overprotective tendencies might strike again. If this continued, eventually no company would be willing to hire her.

Then, out of nowhere, she received a job offer.

An American company wanted to hire her.

The salary was extraordinarily generous.

But that wasn’t the strangest part.

Included with the offer was an American green card.

And a first-class plane ticket.

Voskaya stared at the documents in disbelief.

When had she become this valuable?

She had studied economics and business administration and had earned good grades. She knew she was competent.

But not that competent.

Certainly not competent enough for a company to somehow arrange an American green card for her before she’d even agreed to work for them.

What kind of organization had that sort of influence?

And if this was what they considered her worth, just how powerful were they?

Her first thought was that her father had pulled some strings and found the company for her.

Her second was considerably less comforting.

Perhaps the CIA wanted to lure her to America and use her as leverage against her father.

Either possibility was enough to make her reject the offer.

Voskaya picked up the documents, intending to tear them apart, burn the pieces, and flush the remains down the toilet.

Then the papers suddenly slipped from her hands.

They floated into the air.

Flames erupted across them.

Within the bright fire, a line of Russian letters appeared.

Wishing your father good health.

A second line appeared beneath it.

Also, your family’s caviar is excellent. Bring me two bottles when you come.

The word bottles had been crossed out.

It had been replaced with:

cases.

Voskaya froze.

There was only one person she could think of who would communicate like this.

Someone capable of doing it.

Someone with an apparent obsession with caviar.

And if that person was the one behind the invitation...

Then refusing was no longer an option.

After a long internal struggle, Voskaya said goodbye to her father and traveled alone to New York.

"So you’re the woman that brat mentioned?"

When Voskaya reached the company’s top floor, she discovered that the person she had been expecting wasn’t there.

Instead, she found two identical sisters.

The twins examined her with open contempt.

And when they mentioned that man, the disdain in their voices was unmistakable.

Voskaya quickly reached a conclusion.

Whoever that man was, these two stood even higher in the hierarchy.

Salorass looked Voskaya over from head to toe.

"I don’t know why that brat has such high expectations for you. He even arranged an important role for you. But as far as I can tell, aside from being attractive, you don’t have much going for you."

"Expectations?"

Voskaya bristled at the assessment, but she couldn’t exactly deny the obvious.

Compared with people like these two, perhaps she really wasn’t much.

That only made her more curious.

What exactly did he expect from her?

"He believes..."

Salorass smiled faintly.

"That you’ll bring a brand-new future to Russia."

Salorass remembered Evenson’s instructions.

Keep her with you. Train her properly.

Once you think she’s ready, send her back to Russia.

Give her the resources to establish an industrial park there.

That will become one of our most important bases in Eastern Europe.

"For now, you’ll stay with us as a secretary," Salorass continued. "We’ll observe you for a while."

Then Oleses suddenly opened her eyes.

"Unless you have our permission, you are not to leave my side."

Voskaya stiffened.

"And there’s something else. That brat’s current identity is... complicated. You are forbidden from meeting him."

Oleses raised one finger.

"If you violate that rule..."

A flame suddenly engulfed Voskaya.

She gasped.

Heat washed over her entire body.

Yet despite the terrifying flames, she wasn’t burned.

Oleses casually waved her hand.

The fire vanished.

"You should understand the consequences."

Voskaya clutched her chest and breathed heavily.

She had clearly been frightened out of her wits.

Once she finally managed to steady her breathing, she bowed her head.

"Understood, boss."

The twins stared at her.

Their expressions were almost amused.

Voskaya immediately realized something was wrong with her choice of address.

She hurriedly corrected herself.

"Master."

"Mm."

The twins nodded, finally satisfied.

"When outsiders are present, you don’t need to call us that."

"Yes, Master."

"By the way..."

Oleses suddenly remembered something.

"Did you bring the caviar?"

She sounded genuinely interested.

"That brat has been talking about it for quite some time."

"Yes... Master."

Voskaya hesitated.

"I did bring some originally, but customs confiscated most of it because I was carrying too much. I only managed to bring two jars."

"Listen carefully."

Salorass crooked a finger at her.

Voskaya immediately placed the two jars on the desk.

"All of your caviar was confiscated by customs. If anyone asks, that’s what happened. Understand?"

She opened one of the jars without another word.

Then she scooped up several translucent black pearls with her teeth and tasted them.

Her eyes curved into delighted crescents.

"It really is good."

She handed the jar to her sister.

"You should try it."

That was how Voskaya had ended up working for the company.

Looking back on her own experience, she actually felt a little sorry for Holmes and Watson.

Those two poor bastards had probably been recruited under false pretenses too.

And judging by what she had seen of the twins, their employer would soon be finished with whatever business had been keeping her occupied.

Voskaya couldn’t help wondering what the two men were in for.

The twins really were busy.

Seven floors beneath the building, the entire level had been converted into a specialized detention facility.

The room itself was constructed entirely from high-strength alloy and reinforced with magical runes.

Even if someone put the Hulk inside, he wouldn’t be escaping easily.

To increase the psychological pressure on prisoners, the entire chamber had been painted white.

The only color came from several red sections arranged together with the white flooring in the center of the room, forming an octagonal pattern that resembled an open umbrella.

A woman currently lay unconscious in the middle of it.

She wore almost nothing, only two pieces of white cloth covering her front and back. Even an apron would have provided more coverage.

Her face was actually rather attractive.

Except for the obvious burn scar across her left cheek.

Her brow twitched.

Slowly, she woke.

Before she could understand where she was, a voice suddenly thundered through the room.

It was loud.

Cold.

Completely devoid of emotion.

"Army Sergeant Allen Brandy, why did you betray your country?"