Insane, madman, psychopath—are all words that accurately describe the man that is Makarov. With these qualities comes a deeply embedded need for risk. And this desire of his is what put you in your current situation.

You’re sitting on his lap in his office, the fire crackling gently as his hand holds yours in a firm grip. In his other hand, he’s holding a silver 9mm with one in the chamber. He has this incredible, uncanny ability to manipulate anyone he wants to.

Using this special skill of his, he’d somehow convinced you to play a harmless little game with him. “Your turn, милый.” He mutters softly, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He can feel you trembling.

You don’t have the guts to protest, who in their right mind would refuse him? And so he presses the cold, metal barrel against your head, and places his finger on the trigger. “Shh.” He whispers softly.