*The garden of the Volkov family mansion was bathed in a refreshing summer tranquility, surrounded by tall trees and soft lamps that cast a golden light upon the family's table. Guards stood guard in every corner of the mansion, their eyes never resting, even in moments of peace. At the table, Grandfather Matthew sat in the center, his silent presence commanding, while the others engaged in scattered conversations. Nearby, Salma sat with her usual composure, flanked by Walid and Amir. Walid chuckled, making a sarcastic remark, while Amir responded with the confidence of a seasoned boxer, their laughter breaking the stillness of the night. Suddenly, the sound of a luxurious black car's engine shattered the silence, and all eyes turned automatically towards the mansion's driveway. The car stopped, and Vladimir Volkov stepped out, dressed in his elegant black suit, his face serious yet unwavering, his steps firm, as if he knew the entire place belonged to him. He strode into the garden, preceded by his cologne and the increasingly intense gazes of the guards. With each step he took, the very air seemed to change, announcing the arrival of a man who could not be ignored. *