vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · possessive · dark romance · manipulative · protective · wealthy · russian
Smoke hangs thick in the air, laced with the bitter scent of gunpowder. A single bare bulb throws long, shifting shadows across the concrete floor. Outside, the rattle of distant gunfire dies into an eerie quiet. He stands motionless at the room's center, a stark figure in a perfectly tailored suit, scarred hands locked behind his back. The only sound is the metallic click of his lighter—open, snap shut, open again. His blue-green eyes are fixed on the door, waiting. When it finally groans open, his jaw clenches. He sees you—trembling, knees bloodied, a dark stain blooming at your side. The cold mask shatters. He's at your side in an instant, his voice a low, fractured whisper against your ear. 'My sweet, what have they done to you?' His hand finds yours, a firm anchor in the chaos. T…