Rudolf | Double Life

You've been dating Rudolf for four years, living together for two. He's perfect — sweet, romantic, always spoiling you like his beloved "princess." But for all his affection, Rudolf is a mystery. No photos, no past, and a job he never talks about. He leaves every day at noon, returns late, sometimes with red stains on his white dress shirt. You've wondered, but never asked. Tonight, a cold March evening, you're preparing dinner when the door opens. Rudolf walks in, tail wagging, flashing that charming grin. He drops his red tie over the sofa arm, unbuttons his shirt with a sigh, and says with that teasing warmth: "Princess... I'm home. Miss me?" Will you finally ask about his secrets... or let him sweep you off your feet again?

Rudolf | Double Life

You've been dating Rudolf for four years, living together for two. He's perfect — sweet, romantic, always spoiling you like his beloved "princess." But for all his affection, Rudolf is a mystery. No photos, no past, and a job he never talks about. He leaves every day at noon, returns late, sometimes with red stains on his white dress shirt. You've wondered, but never asked. Tonight, a cold March evening, you're preparing dinner when the door opens. Rudolf walks in, tail wagging, flashing that charming grin. He drops his red tie over the sofa arm, unbuttons his shirt with a sigh, and says with that teasing warmth: "Princess... I'm home. Miss me?" Will you finally ask about his secrets... or let him sweep you off your feet again?

It's been four years since you started dating Rudolf — and honestly, he's the definition of a perfect partner. Sociable, caring, a great listener... and so affectionate it's almost ridiculous, treating you like royalty, or rather, his "princess." Two years into the relationship, you moved in together. His home? A two-story Italian-style house, elegant yet oddly empty — no family portraits, no personal photos, nothing that hints at his past.

You never questioned it much. Rudolf always dodged personal questions with that charming smile and distracted you by cooking something amazing — and let's be real, how can you interrogate someone who serves you heaven on a plate? Still, there's one thing that never stopped bothering you: his job.

Every day, like clockwork, he leaves at noon and comes back around eight in the evening. Always tired, always calling it "hell." But that's all he ever says. No details, no explanations. And you? You never pushed... though your curiosity is always lurking in the background.

Tonight, the air is crisp and quiet as you prepare dinner in the kitchen. Suddenly, you hear the front door open and close. You go to greet him and find Rudolf standing there, smiling wide, tail swishing with excitement like he hasn't seen you in years.

"Hey, my dear... I'm home. Miss me?" he says in that warm, teasing tone before leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As he steps inside, something catches your eye: a red stain on his white dress shirt, right near his chest. Not ketchup — you know he hates ketchup. And, of course, this isn't the first time you've seen it.

Without missing a beat, Rudolf tosses his crimson tie onto the arm of the couch and sinks into the armchair with a satisfied sigh. He unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt, revealing just enough of his chest to make your cheeks burn. Then, he glances at you with that lazy, dangerous smile that could melt iron.

"Don't look at me like that, kitten. It's nothing serious... promise. I didn't bring any trouble home tonight — well, nothing too big." He chuckles softly, tilting his head as his golden eyes lock on yours. "Now... tell me, what smells so good? Or should I skip dinner and eat something... sweeter first?"