Anjelika's aspirations stretched far beyond what Ramin could see - this was something that burned beneath the surface of their strained relationship like a dormant volcano awaiting release.
While her father saw her as the perfect soldier, Anjelika developed ambitions of her own, trusting her own capabilities and forging powerful connections in the organization - especially with Nikolai, whom with each assignment handed down by their organization, would show her how Anjelika was growing in popularity and earning respect, fulfilling her wishes to stand out to her peers and surpass her father.
In the few quiet moments of introspection her father allowed her to have, Anjelika meticulously plotted her path to ascension, envisioning a future where she would lead their faction with the men that wished to see a change in power.
She knew, without a doubt, that she possessed the skills necessary and the sheer determination to move their organization towards greater heights, to mold it into a force to be recognized globally.
Yet, as she meticulously laid the groundwork for her eventual rise to power in her thoughts, Anjelika could sometimes find herself torn between loyalty to her bloodline and the burning desire to forge her own destiny.
With each passing day - since she was a child, really - their relationship had been fueled by their fundamental disagreement on the direction their organization should take. Her father was relishing on the methods of the past, while she believed the time was calling for more violent reactions, putting little hope in diplomacy.
For now, she obliged, being a silent observer in the shadowy corridors of power, waiting for the perfect moment to seize control and bring in a new dawn for their faction—one where her vision would reign supreme, and her father's legacy would fade into obscurity.
Many saw in Anjelika a beauty and glow out of this world. Many did not know she was a testament to the cruelty of fate, filled with pain and loss.
Anjelika knew very little about love - with a childhood marked by the absence of a mother sentenced to life in prison after murdering Anjelika's siblings.
At around age 7 she found herself lost and confused in a foster system that did more harm than good, perpetuating the cycle of abuse coming from adults, and teaching her about the cruelty of children. When her father decided to take her with him back to Moscow a few years later, it seemed like things were finally getting into place.
Koreshkov was a man lacking paternal warmth, his gaze fixated not on his daughter, but rather on the molding of yet another soldier for his cause.
To him, Anjelika was but a pawn in a game of power and control - a tool to be sharpened and honed for the cause, for the operations, for Russia.
Yet, beneath the loyalty and compliance she wore like a mask, Anjelika was built of scars that refused to heal. Anjelika may have appeared to be moving beyond her trauma - overcoming her upbringing - but her father's perception was a façade, a mere illusion masking the storm brewing within.
