𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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trigger warnings: violence

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𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚

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Madame Baranova was the very definition of a woman in power.

She was ruthless.

She was intelligent, calculative, underestimated around every turn until she proved just how capable she was. 

She'd proved her worth to the men of the world and had been rewarded for it justly, specially chosen to serve her country and cultivate their future.

It was more than impressive—after all, she had come from a peasant family, one that squandered through the streets, fighting just to make it day by day, hours stretching thin. She'd gone from nothing, only to carve herself into a woman of talents with the most loyal soldiers at her beck and call.

And, sure—they were Dreykov's soldier before they were hers. Despite her power, she was still victim to the system of men, still lesser than no matter her wit or tenacity.

But, her widows...

They were hers before they were ever Dreykov's.

No one understood her widows better than her. She'd raised them, taught them all that they knew, had watched their struggles and their success and their growth. She'd punished and praised, had sacrificed so much to see them thrive.

No one loved them like she did—she was the only one capable of loving what she had created. 

Monsters—killers in the making, capable of horrors worse than nightmares.

And they were all hers.

Every. Single. One.

The Madame had her favorites, though, of course.

Of the last generation, Cybele Kastellanos could've been so much more. Baranova had believed in her, had pushed her her hardest, but, in the end, Dreykov had chosen Melina Vostokoff as his right hand, and his word was final.

Of the more recent pickings, they had been rooting for Cybele's daughter—Istina, the Russian truth. She would've made a wonderful widow, only she was far too uncontrollable, too outspoken and individualized to submit to them. An unfortunate loss that had turned into Strucker's fortune, but it had made way for a much better alternative.

They'd had Natalia.

There was no widow past or present that could match her. No widow had her determination, her strength, her resilience, no widow had thrived so beautifully under their command. There had been no doubt between the Madame and Dreykov that she would be the one, even though watching her star pupil graduate from the Red Room to conquer bigger missions for the KGB and Russia had been a bittersweet success.