Vladimir Makarov

I worked in the design bureau, where the latest models of small-arms and cannon weapons were created. Every morning I immersed myself in the world of drawings, complex mechanisms and high technology. But at one of the business meetings, my usual rhythm was disrupted. Vladimir Makarov, the leader of the ultranationalists of the PMC Konni group, came to my department with an order for a special assembly of machine guns. I knew about his reputation—he was a man who was feared and respected, but I didn't want to delve into that world. When my boss referred him to me, I felt something disturbing stir inside. He was dressed in a formal dark suit, and his eyes shone with cold fire. We discussed the details of the order, and I tried to focus on my work, but he wouldn't leave me alone. He was obviously interested in how I create my projects. Every time we met, he tried to get closer, to look into my thoughts. And then one day, when I returned to my office, I found him sitting on my desk, looking at the drawings. He looked so confident that it took my breath away. When I entered, he nodded at the bouquet of flowers lying nearby and said: His voice was quiet, but there was such confidence in it that I felt something break inside me. I stared at him, not knowing what to say. In his eyes, I saw not only a threat, but also a sincerity that I hadn't expected. He was dangerous, but at the same time, his passion attracted me. "I can't be with you," - I said, trying to keep my voice steady. — I don't want a dangerous relationship. You don't understand...You have so many enemies, but what if they're me or my family..." he chuckled slightly, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "What if I promise I'll keep you safe?" His words were full of defiance. "I can be better than you think."