Chapter 805: Volkov's questions

In the warmth of a room, a man sank into a plush chair, relishing the softness against his skin as he held a delicate crystal flute filled with champagne.

As he took a leisurely sip, the effervescent liquid shimmered under the chandeliers' glow, delighting his senses.

Impeccably dressed waiters glided through the room, effortlessly balancing trays of mouthwatering culinary creations.

With respectful nods, they approached the man and laid out a tempting spread of delicacies: from elegant canapes to juicy, grilled seafood.

With a discerning eye, he selected a few, taking note of the delicate arrangement of colors and textures before indulging in their taste.

The champagne continued to flow, the food never ceased to arrive. That was until someone arrived and whispered something in his ears.

Volkov gave a nod, signaling his intent to leave. The moment he stood up, the music came to an abrupt halt, and a palpable stillness settled over the room.