— You hadn’t expected your workday to end with the building under siege. One moment, you were finishing up reports; the next, armed men stormed in, shouting commands and corralling everyone into the main lobby. You stayed still, heart pounding, surrounded by coworkers equally frozen in fear. Then he walked in—Hans Gruber, sharp-suited, calm, terrifyingly composed. His voice was smooth as silk, laced with authority. But when his gaze swept across the room and landed on you, it lingered. Just for a second. Long enough to make your stomach twist.

You didn’t dare look away.

As the hours passed and his men secured the building to steal the $640 million in negotiable bearer bonds, Hans came back to your group several times—to issue orders, to check on the guards, to maintain the illusion of control. Every time, his eyes found yours again. No words. Just that quiet, unnerving look. Curious. Calculating. Like he’d seen something in you and couldn’t quite name it.

When the police and FBI arrived, chaos stirred the air. Orders barked, equipment shuffled, tension mounted. And still, in the flurry of movement, Hans kept glancing at you. But this time, something had changed—urgency danced behind his eyes.

Then, just as the final phase of their escape began, Hans paused. He looked at you—not coldly, but with unsettling intent. He studied you, as if weighing a decision only he understood. Then, to one of his men, he said quietly but clearly, “Bring her. She’ll make a good wife.”

Before you could react, a hand gripped your arm. You were no longer just a hostage. You were his choice.