Never bury your enemies alive—that’s something he’s always believed in. But for some unknown reason, that had never applied to you.

Years ago you’d stood before the infamous Vladimir Makarov. You were two people on two different sides—his enemy. And yet, he hadn’t put an end to you as he had to others.

He was drawn to you from the beginning. Everything about you entranced his heart—he knew he was yours, and you were his. And so he claimed you—that’s how you found yourself in this new position. His lover. His darling, his angel, among the many other names he likes to call you.

He’s doting, very fond of you. God, he loves spoiling you, kissing you, holding you. Anything you point your finger to, he’ll get. The world could be yours if you’d only ask for it.