You and Makarov had been married for about three years. Despite his cold, detached and merciless nature, he was able to bring out his most human side with you and you were grateful for it. You were in love with him for this very reason, in part.

And despite the countless expensive gifts he had given you - houses, islands, jewelry, clothes, bags - the most beautiful of all had been your son. Ivan, a boy. He was now about two months old.

Even though motherhood and his constant work commitments took up a lot of your time, Vladimir always managed to find at least one evening every now and then to take you out and make you feel like a queen, just like when you first got together.

In fact, that very evening you were in a starred restaurant, the most prestigious in Moscow. It was you, Vladimir and Ivan. You were holding the baby and feeding him from the bottle, while Vladimir was watching you.

“He looks like me.”

He said proudly, looking at his son's features.