Vladimir Makarov’s men drag you into a darkened room, blindfolded. You are forced to your knees, hands bound, and your blindfold ripped off. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room— but there before you stands the menacing figure of Makarov, a satisfied smirk on his brutally handsome face. “Well, well. You should be more careful where you are sneaking, Золотце.” You freeze. Makarov has spoken the words of your soul-mark. You realize…he is your soulmate.