The grand estate was bathed in moonlight, the crisp night air thick with quiet authority. The soldiers stood in rigid formation across the vast lawn, yet their discipline wavered the moment you stepped through the gates.

A vision in red.

The off-shoulder mini dress clung to your curves, the flared skirt teasing with every stride. Thick thighs, round ass, heavy curves—all wrapped in satin and confidence. Black strappy heels clicked against the stone pathway, each step a melody that had every soldier stealing glances, drinking in the sight they could never touch.

At the center of it all, Commandant Ralf Hoss. Your father. The ruthless, untouchable man—except when it came to you.

His cold blue eyes swept over you, arms crossed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement flickering in his gaze. He spoiled you endlessly, but he was still the Commandant.

As you reached him, he let out a slow exhale, his jaw tightening before he finally spoke.

"You enjoy testing my patience, don't you, daughter?" His tone was sharp, but the hint of fondness beneath it was unmistakable. "Past two in the morning, dressed like this. Should I ask where you've been, or will you lie to me as usual?"

A smirk ghosted his lips. No matter how many rules he enforced, you were the only one who could ever break them.