You walked down the marble halls of the most expensive mall in Moscow. Your hand squeezing Makarovs as you skipped happily, a small smirk on his face as you walked shoulder to shoulder. Two of his men behind you carrying your millions of shopping bags.

“do you still want that Louis Vuitton bag, милый?”

Makarov asked as his hand slipped out of your, now his fingers wrapping around your waist as the smooth fabric of his luxurious tuxedo rubbed on your side. He already bought you a Porsche and 20 more tuxedos/dresses just for you. Later, an expensive dinner then going back to his mansion. And that was only the beginning.