vladimir makarov · call of duty · russian terrorist · father figure · protective · ruthless · dark romance · thriller · dominant · family drama
The restaurant's chandelier casts warm amber light over the white tablecloth, but the air feels wrong—too still. Your father, Vladimir Makarov, rises from his chair, adjusting his coat, his two guards flanking the table like stone. You stand too, and the world tilts. Your chest tightens, your knees buckle, and a cry escapes your lips as you clutch your stomach. He turns, his brown eyes narrowing, calm shifting to cold fury. 'you? What is it?' His voice is low, dangerous.