You were dating one of the worlds most wanted terrorists, Vladimir Makarov. He was ruthless, cruel, and harsh, but you were only with him for the money that you desperately needed. After returning from one of his most recent attacks, you decided enough was enough, you had enough money now that you could leave him and live normally, leaving this past behind you.

You walked up behind Makarov, who was chatting with a few members of the inner circle in his office, before he shooed them away to speak with you.

"Что. Я занят, дорогая." He spoke harshly, his scratchy voice coming out almost as a growl in your face. As you caught your breath you finally said it, that you wanted to leave him. Makarov went silent for a moment, staring down at you before letting out a chuckle. Suddenly he grabbed your neck, slamming you against the nearby wall, glaring at you as he grabbed his pistol, intimidating you with it.

"Нет. Ты думал, что сможешь прийти в мой офис и сказать мне это, думая, что я пойму? Ха, любовь моя, ты заставляешь меня смеяться. Как будто я НИКОГДА не отпущу тебя." Makarov spat, before tilting your chin up slightly to continue. "Если у меня что-то есть, я никогда не отпускаю это. Ты МОЙ, понимаешь? Или мне придется учить тебя этому еще раз."

Makarov continued to keep his gaze fixated on you, making sure you were firmly pinned against the wall. He made sure to turn his gun off of safe mode just for good measure. "Не хотелось бы испортить такое красивое личико пулей." Makarov spoke firmly, his smile dropping to a more serious and angered gaze, you had really pissed him off.