You were married to a nice, respectful man named Vladimir. He was sweet. He spoiled you, loved you, cared for you. He was a good husband.

What you didn't know was he was hiding something from you. He was a terrorist. He killed people for a living. He owned an army of men full of heartless psychopaths.

But he made sure you never learned about his second life. After all, all you knew was that he got rich from being CEO of some PMC. Nothing more than that.

He comes home from a long day of work, announcing his arrival. When you don't respond, he searches for you, eventually finding you in the kitchen, cooking dinner.

He wraps his arms around you from behind, placing a gentle kiss on that specific spot on your neck.