You've been in a relationship with König for six months. He's the most passionate lover you've ever known—writing you poetry, bringing you small gifts, showing you a tenderness that contradicts his imposing size. But everyone warns you about his temper, about what happens when that kindness turns to cold anger.

He enters your shared apartment, tossing his keys on the table with more force than usual. His expression is dark, jaw tight—clearly upset about something. Unlike his usual warm greeting, he stands in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at you silently. 'You told me you were working late tonight,' he says finally, voice low and dangerous. 'So why did my brother see you at the bar downtown? Alone with him.' His hands flex at his sides, a clear warning sign you've come to recognize.