Makarov Quotes Novels & Stories

"But I'm interested in how your seven years had been without me, considering I used to be the only thing in your life that could make you smile." "Highly debatable. Ryan Reynolds makes me smile." "Gay," Marcos said in a sing song voice, causing Paris' face to twist into a grimace before he chuckled, saying, "I'm serious, Don. How was your first kill? Who was he? Why did you kill him?"

Marcus talking about Red sent off a trigger in him, for some reason he didn’t want him talking about her like every other girl. Driving his hands into his pocket as he round up the corner of a building, he took out the packet of cigarettes from his jacket, flickered the cover off, removed a stick and placed it in between his lips. The light strapped to his wrist came in handy as he ignited the light to burn the edge of the stick. Closing his eyes, he blew out the air from my mouth which also seems to relax my muscles. “Why am I not surprised?” the familiar cute voice muttered around the corner from under the tree.

Freddie Hawkins, the one who made that martial arts movie and has incredible fighting skills? Elon looked worshipful. "That's exactly who I mean! I love his most famous quote: 'I've never been interested in money!' Dr. Lloyd, I thought that was such an enlightened outlook on life, what a bold attitude! In this day and age, there are too few people who don't obsess over money!" Andrew sneered coldly, "A man worth hundreds of billions saying he's not interested in money—don't you think that's like someone who's stuffed themselves saying they're not interested in food?"

Mikhail said, his voice dripping with false sympathy as he addressed the crowd. “It’s so sad father died this way. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t have happened if you were competent enough.” “Even now, you can’t find who was behind this. Just think about it.” The public jab was a masterstroke. “Watch your mouth, Mikhail,” Enzo warned, his voice a low growl. “Relax, Enzo. I haven’t said anything wrong,” Mikhail replied with a smug smile. “You know what’s actually wrong? Your head is still on your neck,” Enzo shot back, stepping forward.

Luciano’s jaw clenched, the muscles ticking. “You know one bullet from me ends you right now, Marco. Don't test me.” “And what then?” Marco taunted, a venomous smirk spreading across his face as his men shifted their weight, ready to pull their triggers. “My men will turn you and your boy into Swiss cheese before your shell casing even hits the floor.”

I take what I want and destroy what stands in my way. Destroy. That's exactly the problem, mudak. The familiar weight of my Makarov presses against my ribs as I lean back in the leather chair, a reminder of who I really am beneath all this pathetic sentiment. The gun has never failed me. Never left me. Never— My phone slices through the silence, its shrill ring bouncing off the mahogany-paneled walls of my office. I glance at the screen, and my jaw sets so hard I hear my teeth grind together. Viktor fucking Kozlov.

"Deliver my product, or you deliver my money with interest. Twenty percent." Twenty?? This man must be crazy. I held his gaze without saying a word. “And if you fail..." He said, reaching into his jacket. Marco's hand moved toward his holster, but Dmitri only pulled out a pistol. It was a sleek, custom piece with ivory grips. He then set on the table between us. The barrel faced me. It was an old gesture of the Volkov family. A loaded gun, offered in peace but left pointing toward the person being warned. It meant: I could have used this. Next time, I will.

Crow said as he stepped back. “You wanted to see me?” “Yeah, for two reasons.” Crow walked over to his PC setup. “One was, how the fuck did you let that Russian shoot you?” “I was sleeping, man. Then I heard him come in and grabbed my weapon.” “You’re fast with a gun or a knife, Mav. We all know this.” “Yeah so?” Maverick didn’t like the way this questioning was going. “So? I have training, lots of it and you are almost as fast as I am.”

"This is good. Passion makes men motivated. Makes them willing to do things they would otherwise refuse." Before I could respond, Marco grabbed my arm, his eyes urgent. "I need to tell you a story, Axel," Volkov continued, as if he'd heard Marco's suggestion. "About a man named Sergei Kuznetsov. Do you remember him?" My jaw clenched. "I remember." "Good," Volkov said. "Then you remember how well you completed that job. How thoroughly you followed our instructions. How Sergei's wife and daughter learned what happens to traitors."

Xavier said. “Sometimes you gotta move away from your father’s shadow to see how much you are capable of,” Xavier said again. “I remember you mentioned killing a man, was that the very first?” Xavier asked. Marcus recalled the event and inhaled the smoke through the wrong pipe and coughed out. “It-it was self defense,” Marcus answered with a raspy voice as he tried to clear his throat. “Easy boy, things like this shouldn’t flinch you…….these are things that build you up to a man!” Xavier said.