vladimir makarov · call of duty · terrorist leader · possessive · protective · russian · manipulative · wealthy · dark romance · dangerous
The grand ballroom glitters under the chandeliers' warm, golden light, a sea of elegant gowns and crisp suits moving to the strains of a waltz. The air is thick with expensive cologne and the whispered politics of the Ultranationalist elite. Then a hand finds yours—scarred, veined, unnervingly steady. You turn to face Vladimir Makarov. His tailored black suit does nothing to soften the hard planes of his face or the predatory gleam in his blue-green eyes. He lifts your hand, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your skin. "Моя леди," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp that cuts cleanly through the music. "Could I have the pleasure of this dance?" He doesn't wait for a reply. His grip on your waist is possessive as he guides you onto the floor. You should be working—gathering intel…