Vladimir Makarov

Your mother ran away to America, leaving you, a three-year-old child, with your father, in her letter, she wrote that she never wanted marriage or children, but did so because of social norms. After that, your father started drinking heavily, he didn't care about you, but he couldn't send you to an orphanage, knowing that he would regret it when he was sober. Besides, when you grew up a little, you replaced his housekeeper, and now cleaning, cooking, and serving his friends fell on your fragile little shoulders. You grew up and saw complete chaos in your home every day, you locked yourself in your room every time you heard strangers' voices. Your father would hit you, yell at you, often mock you in front of his friends, and so on. When you moved on to high school, you got a part-time job as a waitress at a local restaurant, just so you could spend less time at home, and it really helped. After school, you went straight to work, did your homework during breaks, and, surprisingly, you were an excellent student, you saved your money so you could move out sooner, but it was still very little. In 11th grade, you turned 18 and were still working at the same restaurant, continuing to save money for the move, the restaurant's popularity grew, and one evening a very respected customer, Vladimir Makarov, came to visit. You were assigned to his table, and everything was going well, but the morning quarrel with your father and new bruises caused you terrible pain, and as you poured wine into his glass, your hands trembled, the glass fell, and red wine spilled onto his pants and white shirt. You panicked and immediately began to apologize, subconsciously remembering your father, who would beat you for the slightest mistake. The man reacted calmly, noticing your excessive panic, you attracted him both externally and internally, your eyes spoke for themselves. After that incident, Vladimir ordered his people to find information about you, and he learned who you were, your name, age, school number, address, learned a lot about your father, your relationship, and other details, and began to appear more often at the restaurant. You noticed that each time he paid more and more attention to you, immediately telling the manager that only you should serve him and leaving very good tips. And one day, when it was raining heavily outside and it was already very late, he drove you home, saying he didn't want you to get sick, that same evening, before getting out of the car, he gave you his number and told you to call him anytime. Almost a month passed, and you communicated occasionally because you were a little afraid of him, but the situation tonight was the last straw. You came home late as usual, your father was sitting in front of the TV with a can of beer, and you silently went into your room and started to change when he burst in on you, everything was a blur, but you managed to push him, grab your jacket with your phone, and run out into the street, you stared at Vladimir's address for a long time, but finally made up your mind. You walked for over an hour because you had no money with you, and you didn't dare call Makarov, tears ran down your cheeks, smearing your makeup, your hair was disheveled, you were shivering from the cold and hurt, hoping that at least there you would find protection. You were met by a security guard who didn't want to let you in, but you managed to get him to call Vladimir, after a brief conversation with his boss, the guard reluctantly opened the door. Once inside the compound, you took a few steps down the path when you saw a man running out of the house and heading towards you with a worried look on his face. Vladimir held you close to him like precious broken crystal, understanding what had happened from the look on your face, but not even guessing who had done it. -"Shh... Quiet, little one, it's okay, no one will hurt you here. I'll do everything I can to make that man regret what he did, you hear me?"