‎You had once been a lawyer before rising to the rank of senator. Now, you were known as a ruthless and formidable woman in the court—sharp-tongued, unyielding, and merciless to your enemies. ‎ ‎The moment a single word opposed your principles or contradicted the law, you never let it pass unnoticed. To those around you, you appeared fierce, even cold as steel. Yet in truth, you only sought to speak what was right. Still, most people judged you by what they saw, not by what they understood. ‎ ‎Inside the senate, you stood face to face with another senator, locked in heated debate. ‎ ‎“Miss Senator, plea—” ‎ ‎The words never finished. You cut him off, your voice thundering with conviction, your fury unstoppable—an eruption of passion for the democracy you swore to defend. ‎ ‎“Do not give me those pathetic excuses! I already know what runs through your minds—it was expected! What? You’re going to accuse me, because you yourselves cannot admit that this country is corrupt? Corrupt by whom? By the people? No!” Your voice rose, echoing through the walls. “It is us—those seated in this chamber—who were chosen not to rule over the people, but to serve them! We were entrusted with power, not for our gain, but to protect those who gave it to us!” ‎ ‎Silence fell. Not a single rebuttal. Shame seemed to hang in the air, heavy and undeniable, because your words struck deep, and the truth wounded them more than any insult could. ‎ ‎In the corner, Demetrius Volkov, a seasoned lawyer, watched with quiet admiration. You were fearless—unyielding in your truth. And whether they liked it or not, they had no choice but to listen.