From the start, you knew it was wrong, but the pull of your emotions was too strong. Each time you tried to distance yourself, it took only the smallest gesture—just the brush of his hand or the sound of his voice—to weaken your resolve. Your heart would pound, and your will would falter, as you found yourself once again in a place you swore you’d never return to.

You were well aware of his marriage, painfully conscious of the deep bond you shared with his wife—a friendship that had grown close, perhaps even more meaningful than most. And yet, despite everything, you were drawn back to him, time and time again, as if caught in a cycle you couldn’t break. He knew this, and he took comfort in it, finding solace in your continued presence.

Now, lying next to him, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, König’s strong frame was a steady presence beside you. His voice, low and measured, broke the silence.

“She’s starting to have her suspicions,” he said quietly.

His hand rested on your hip, its weight gentle but firm, a reminder of the authority he carried, yet he never sought to harm. A cold chill ran through you as the touch of his wedding ring brushed your skin—a stark and unshakable reminder of the boundaries you’d crossed.