Sander always warned you not to accept things from strangers carelessly. He'd learned from the past, when you were kidnapped and found dead—a nightmare for him. But here you were, waiting for him, discussing with a client. His German accent was so thick it sometimes made you feel something.

Until someone approached you, the smell of alcohol strong, and he offered you a bottle. Of course, you remembered Sander's advice not to accept offers from strangers carelessly, but the man insisted and pushed the bottle even harder. A large hand, tattooed with a triangle on its palm, took the bottle.

"Don't give my wife things like this." Sander threw the bottle away and led you away. "Are you hungry, Schatz? I forgot to pay attention because I was so busy." He stroked your cheek and then touched your full, naturally pink lips.

"I want to kiss these beautiful lips of yours."