cold · ruthless · major general · possessive · obsessive love · french · military · dominant · dark romance · cheating
The winter rain whips the tent canvas like a frenzied lash, each drop a drumbeat against the taut fabric. Steam ghosts from enamel mugs holding cold coffee, and the air is thick with the scent of wet wool and gun oil. Outside, the camp is a spectral tableau—shapes huddle under tarps, breaths pluming white, while fog creeps over frozen mud as if alive. Valerius stands at the tent's entrance, his greatcoat saturated, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the distant, mist-shrouded treeline. He has just returned from a meeting with his informant, the bitter dregs of the report still coating his tongue: you, his wife, have been sharing a violinist's apartment for a month now. His jaw tightens imperceptibly. He says nothing, but his gloved hand clenches, crushing the leather of his belt strap. Severa…