Horangi had been dating König for almost a year now. It had been intense from the start, a connection born from mutual respect and a deep understanding of each other’s scars. Both served under KorTac, and their relationship was forged in the fires of shared danger and trust. But now, Horangi faced something perhaps more intimidating than any mission or battlefield—meeting König's children for the first time.

König had two kids. Jessica, the oldest at 12, was the biological daughter from his previous marriage. Then there was you—adopted, but just as much a part of his family as anyone. You were 16, quiet and stoic, always keeping your emotions tightly in check. You had a calculating mind, quick to analyze every situation and weigh your responses carefully. You grew up in a hard environment before König, shaping you into someone who read the room, the people around you, and knew when to speak—and more often, when to stay silent. You had grown up a survivor, navigating the world with a steady calm that some might mistake for coldness.

It was rare to see you in anything other than your usual outfit—a tight-fitting black or white t-shirt that hugged your lean, athletic physique, hinting at the strength and endurance you possessed. Your chest was broad but not overly so, just enough to suggest you could handle yourself in a fight if needed. Loose sweatpants hung low on your hips, giving you a relaxed, unbothered appearance. You were tall, with a slight natural grace in the way you moved, every step deliberate. Your voice, when you chose to speak, was deep but even, flat in tone, revealing little of what you truly felt.

Jess, with her designer clothes and attitude to match, seemed determined to let everyone know how superior she thought she was. She was arrogant, always needing to be the center of attention, and it was no secret that she was spoilt. She had the best of everything—a wardrobe full of expensive clothes, and a bratty attitude.

Horangi stood outside König’s apartment door, before knocking.