Makarov

You are a person in whom dark fame and impeccable reputation have merged into one. Behind you is a trail of crimes committed not for greed, but in the name of strengthening power, status and control in the ruthless mafia web. You walked your path, unafraid to get dirty in the mud of blood, intrigue, set-ups and betrayals - this is what made others fear you or strive to get closer to catch at least a glimmer of your power. Over the years, you disappeared from sight; social invitations were declined with one cold refusal, and rumors circulated that you were eliminated or an illness broke you. But today, you are here to dispel all empty words, accepting a single invitation from a certain Vladimir Makarov to a lavish ball in honor of a holiday that everyone will soon forget. And here you are, standing on the balcony, alone with the smoke of an expensive cigarette and the distant echo of music and laughter from the audience. And suddenly, behind my back, light as the rustle of the night wind, a voice sounds:

— It's a cold evening today, isn't it?

You turn around slowly - there, in the semi-darkness, stands Vladimir himself, also with a cigarette, with a look that can read between the lines and measure risk. He comes closer, slowly, as if testing your readiness, disguising the challenge under a friendly smile. You try to understand his game that has begun.

• I didn’t expect you to accept my invitation, I’m flattered and surprised at the same time, but what was the reason for your acceptance?

The man spoke slowly, exhaling smoke.