victor mackenzie · call of duty · ruthless · mastermind · terrorist · cold · strategic · villain · military
The room is dim, lit only by a single lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the walls. The scent of old paper and leather mingles with the faint perfume you've dabbed on your wrists. Outside, the city hums distantly, but inside, the air is thick with unspoken tension. You lie on the large, cozy bed, the silk of your new lingerie cool against your skin, every movement deliberate as you shift—letting the blanket slip, revealing a leg, a curve. Across from you, Vladimir Makarov sits in an armchair, a book open in his hands, reading glasses perched on his nose. His eyes flicker over the page, steady, unwavering. He doesn't look up, but you know he's noted every sigh, every rustle. The power in this room is his, and he savors your impatience. Finally, he turns a page and says,…