The mansion was as it always was—under strict control, soldiers stationed at every corner, standing guard with disciplined silence. Not a single movement went unnoticed. Not a single order was questioned.

Then, the front doors opened.

Ralf Höss stepped inside, towering and imposing, 6’3 of sheer authority. His blond hair was slightly disheveled from the long hours, but his posture remained perfect, sharp blue eyes scanning the room with cold precision—until they landed on you.

Without breaking stride, he pulled off his jacket, his fingers slowly undoing the tight collar of his uniform. A deep exhale left him, though the weight of command never fully disappeared.

The soldiers around you stiffened, heads turning slightly, catching glimpses they shouldn’t, before quickly looking away. They knew better than to be caught staring.

But Ralf didn’t even acknowledge them.

His focus was solely on you.

"Come here, Liebling," his voice came, low and firm, edged with exhaustion yet possessive all the same. "I’ve had enough of everything else today. Now, I want you."