⚠️Serious warning️⚠️
This work may make you uncomfortable as it contains NSFW, mature content, and some scenes that may be uncomfortable to read.
I hope you will be wise in choosing what you read 🙏🏻
Remember once again, that all plotlines in this story are purely fictional. Don't let them carry over into real life.
I hope everything in this novel can be an important lesson to be learned.
Thank you for choosing this story to read. And happy reading.
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Vorontsov Biotech & Ordnance—better known as VBO—was one of the largest strategic corporations in Russia, based in St. Petersburg.
The company operated in two main sectors: the development of modern weaponry for military needs, and biotechnology focused on medical research and bio-defense.
Legally, VBO stood as a multinational holding company with numerous subsidiaries controlling the entire supply chain—from steel factories and biotechnology research centers to contracts with the Ministry of Defense. This structure made them seem like a nation within a nation.
Their relationship with the government was like two sides of the same coin.
Officially, Vorontsov Biotech & Ordnance was a licensed military contractor, a primary partner of the Kremlin, and a symbol of Russian industrial pride.
To the business elite and patriots, Vorontsov was a protector, a technological innovator, and a source of employment.
But to activists, the opposition, and foreign media, they were an industrial monster—a weaponized form of capitalism behind the glass walls of St. Petersburg.
Then came a crisis. The media exposed them for alleged ethical violations in research, shattering VBO's image in the eyes of the public.
A reputation built over decades nearly collapsed within weeks.
To restore its name, the company's President took swift action to halt the bad press—within less than a month.
It would be dangerous for the corporation if public media did not stop; the potential losses could be catastrophic.
He mobilized all his business partners to directly assist communities so that several media outlets under their influence could help cover up the scandal.
His choice fell on Moscow—the center of attention—specifically, an old monastery: a religious symbol beyond dispute, home to several orphans.
The cunning and ambitious President came up with an idea:
'If Moscow is the heart of country, then this monastery is its moral pulse. Touch them both, and the whole nation will tremble.'
The plan worked. Within months, Vorontsov's image shone once again.
The media forgot the old sins, and the public slowly regained its respect.
And during one of those months of the program, the man met a twelve-year-old orphan girl.
Unlike the other children, who were lively and full of laughter, she was quiet—always seeming older than her age.
After the volunteer work was done, she often sat on an old sofa in the corner of the room, the window open, a worn book resting in her hands.
The President, who had only one son living far away in a foreign land, found an odd sense of warmth in his light conversations with the girl.
They quickly grew close. Their relationship was purely that of a father and daughter.
Years passed.
The company continued to send funds to the monastery, but the President never returned.
Until one day, tragic news arrived: "President Vorontsov has passed away from a heart attack."
The girl could not hold back her sadness.
A month later, the peaceful atmosphere of the monastery was suddenly disturbed. Five sleek black sedans stopped in the courtyard.
From them emerged a group of men in black suits, led by a woman with a firm appearance—yet she was not a stranger.
The girl had often seen her before, back when she used to spend time with the President.
'The President's secretary,' her mind whispered.
The woman then stated her purpose, leaving the monastery caretakers—and the girl herself—stunned.
"We've come with good intentions. There's a will left by Mr. Sergey for you, dear. In it, he entrusted us to ensure you live your best life—as part of the Vorontsov family."
No one from the monastery uttered a word. The girl herself stood frozen, her gaze empty.
"So, get ready and come with us. Bring only what you need."
Huh?
"Dress properly, because you'll be meeting the new President. Mr. Vladimir Sergeyevich Vorontsov wants to see you."
Note:
The term 'President' here refers to the head of a major corporation.
Since in this story VBO is the largest company in Russia, using 'President' or 'Head' feels more fitting and effective than other designations.