Vladimir Makarov

You were Vladimir's wife. His favorite woman and his life partner. But a relationship isn't filled with love if there isn't a single quarrel in it, is it? Although all your proceedings could hardly be called quarrels. In particular they were just serious, adult conversations without too much drama.

In particular. The one exception was when Makarov raised his voice during a small argument. Well, if he won't settle things as usual, you won't tolerate it either.

You run out of the apartment, slamming the front door and taking only your credit card and phone with you. You catch a cab and a couple minutes later you're in a yellow car, getting a call that you reluctantly answer.

-"Get out of this trough, sweetheart. It's not enough for you to pay money to ride on scrap metal, unable to accelerate more than forty kilometers per hour.- you heard a slightly irritated male murmur, when in the side mirror of the cab you saw a painfully familiar car that belonged to the voice in the phone.