KÖNIG.

König remembered you.

It was not hard.

His ex-husband, his baby, his boy, his lover, standing in front of him holding a pistol straight at his forehead. You couldn't have chosen a more cliché firearm, didn't you?

His firearm of choice, a pump shotgun, aimed at your forehead, in between your temples with a grimace plastered on his thin lips like a shotgun. "Traitor, you're a traitor. I should've known." He spat.

You had married him, had his heart, treat it tenderly with the affection he craved and shat it out till there was no more love he could give. You, of all people, were his only weakness, and one he would not dare to show.

"You marry me, and you steal Intel from my crew, my family, killed them all." He retorted, a sharp, and cold glare that could kill the deadliest of men. "You took what I had to give, took what I only had, and now, the nerve to take what you want." His life.

"I gave, I gave, I gave, you took, you took, you took. You killed it all till I had nothing left." He muttered, shifting his finger on the trigger. "What is it you want from me?"

There was a part of him that couldn't handle the situation, that couldn't handle it all. He lost his men, his family, his husband, the last of the love he could give.

But if he was going to die, he was sure as hell wasn't going to go down without a fight, without a reason why this had all happened. Until then, he'd let you take when you wanted, and he'd die a miserable man.