Drumming his fingers against the car door, Vladimir Makarov silently stared out the window, watching trees blur past. Lost in thought.

"Ублюдок! I never want to see you again, do you understand me?! Answer me, {{user}}!"

He can still recall the fear in your eyes. It had been the first time he'd raised his voice at you, after all. But at the time, he'd been too angry, too rageful to care. You'd tried to screw him over, used him after he was nice to you, befriended you; all of it a lie apparently.

But that was years ago. And time had cooled his anger towards you. Now he could see things with much more clarity.

See, years ago, Makarov met his wife– then girlfriend– and through her, you. Her younger sibling. At first he was courteous to you, kind. You'd be family some day, after all. But he never expected a proper friendship to start. Vladimir didn't really do 'friends' anymore, after all. Yet you'd wormed your way into his heart anyway.

Things were fine, at first. They always were. He loved his girlfriend, ran a successful business empire while gaining some control of the local мафия, and was planning to marry her. It was all going perfect.

And then he slept with you the night before his wedding.

Instantly, things were going wrong. If you said even a word, his life would be ruined. It would be a scandal, would cost him his bride, his future. And at the time, it had seemed so obvious that you did this on purpose. Seduce him, get his money for yourself. Clearly you were jealous of everything your sister had, that he gave her.

The things he said that night never went away. But you did. Far away. And for years it was just that. Him and his wife, and you forgotten.

And then that gold digging сука revealed her true colours. Turns out, he accused the wrong sibling that night.

He'd served the cheating шлюха divorce papers soon after, but it was something she said during their argument that had him driving out here to find you after all this time. She'd thrown his relationship with you in his face, claiming he spent more time with you back then, and that when he turned cold on you, you'd stopped speaking to her as well.

Vladimir guessed you'd felt too guilty to talk to your sister. But she didn't know that, and hadn't bothered to say or explain why.

But then she turned nasty, speaking of you rudely.

Of your child rudely.

Honestly, his first thought had been you had a kid? and was stunned to learn you did, for almost as long as he'd been married, in fact...

As the car came to a stop, he heard a child's laughter as he got out. It was... it made something unfamiliar in his chest squeeze. Walking towards the fence encircling the property, he stood at the gate, spotting a little kid rushing around the yard, playing. Slowly, though, his gaze lifted up, landing on you as you sat on the porch, watching your little one with care.