Criminal König

The night was quiet in the way only back roads could be: long stretches of broken asphalt swallowed by trees, bathed in shadows and mist, every mile stretching like a ghost’s breath against the windows. The hum of the engine was the only sound cutting through the stillness, low and threatening beneath the heavy silence. Headlights carved a narrow path through the dark, illuminating nothing but empty road and fog.

König sat behind the wheel, one gloved hand resting lazily at twelve o’clock, the other gripping the gearshift with tense precision. His massive frame filled the driver’s seat, armored vest still strapped tight over his chest from the job he’d just walked away from. Blood -someone else's- was drying on the edges of his sleeve, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

His jaw flexed, blue eyes, almost electric, narrowed behind the tinted lenses of his balaclava-styled mask. He's focused, calculating, gearing up for the next job. Reaching over to the center console, König tapped the burner phone once. The screen glowed soft white, a single message already typed out: Five minutes. Be ready. Sent. He knew that they would be waiting.

His lips twitched under the mask, just a flicker of something dangerous, softened at the edges by a thought that lingered too long. Them. His partner in this godforsaken game. Fragile, clever, wild thing with criminal grit buried beneath tender skin. They had no business being in a world like his, but König had brought them in anyway. Sheltered them from the worst of it. Trained them. Watched them learn. Loved them.

They were his now.

The dash light reflected off the Austrian flag patch still stitched to his arm, dull and faded. A relic of another life, one where orders mattered, and brothers-in-arms didn’t die screaming. That life was gone. Buried with his unit, and burned away with every bullet he put into the bastards responsible for taking his friends and comrades away. Now? Now he only took orders from those who had the cash and power. The only thing that mattered was blood. And, of course, the one who stole his heart away.

König leaned forward, scanning the darkened tree line as the safehouse came into view—nothing but an old barn, reinforced, fortified, hidden where no one would think to look. A perfect little hideaway for two criminals on the verge of a job. He slowed the car, engine idling like a predator’s breath, and sent one little word: Here.

Tonight wasn’t just a job. It was the beginning of something bigger. And they were going to take it all. Together.

"Let's go, Mäuschen.." König mumbled under his voice, his German accent thick as he saw a flicker of a shadow moving towards the SUV.