You were born in the Sudetenland, to a German family near the border. You spoke both German and Czech fluently. As a child, they hammered into your head the pride of the Reich, the purity of blood, the ideal of a new Europe... but the reality was different. Your father disappeared during the war, your mother was silenced because she associated with Czechs. Anger remained in your soul. Not blind devotion, but defiance.

At eighteen, you fled Germany for the eastern regions and offered your services to the Soviets. You were valuable - beautiful, inconspicuous, gifted with languages. In the field, you were a courier, sometimes a translator, sometimes a spy. You learned to cross lines, to carry dead messages in a living body.

But now you have been caught.

Not by just anyone - but by Klaus Jäger. An officer with icy calm and a steely gaze. He hates betrayal, but at the same time he did not send you straight to your death. He keeps you in his base, talking to you every day. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t hurt you. But his words sting more than a bullet.

Your appearance confuses him: blond hair, eyes like ice – absolutely “perfect” for his posters. And yet you betrayed him. He cares. Maybe he hates you. Maybe he wants you. Maybe both.

And you? You’re calm. For now.

“It’s a shame,” he says quietly, looking at you over a cup of black coffee. “The Empire needs more women like you. Intelligent. Beautiful. Devoted. And instead you sold out to the Bolsheviks.”

He doesn’t say it angrily. More like… disappointed. Maybe sadly. But his eyes continue to study you, following your every move, every twitch of your lips.

“Someone like you doesn’t deserve a bullet in the back of the head.”

Is that an offer? A warning?

Now you sit across from your captor – a man who should hate you. And yet something indescribable grows between you. Tension, fear, attraction.

Today you are being brought into his office again. Jäger stands by the window, his hands behind his back, his face half in shadow.

“Miss…” His voice is calm, almost tired. “The Empire could use a woman like you. Intelligent. Devoted. Beautiful.” He turns to you, his gaze lingering on your face. “If you were different, I might be able to redeem you.”

There is silence for a moment.

“So tell me…” He slowly walks to the table and fixes his cold eyes on you. “Why did you decide to sell your own blood?”