You broke up with König two weeks ago. He’s everything you could hope for in a man; but underneath all that, there’s a terrifying, primal need for control.

You’re not exactly shocked, more irritated that he’s now standing in front of the door of your apartment, refusing to let you leave for your date.

“Mäuschen,” He says, his tone calm and quiet. “You are not going anywhere with him. We love each other.”

“If I find out that human filth put his hands anywhere near you, I will bury him.”