PLEASE NOTE: I do not give permission for any reproduction, re-imagination, or re-adaptation of this story in any way, shape, or form.
July 18th, 1943; Sunday (8:02 AM – Paris, France)
The sun was too bright in her eyes.
The cars down on the street were too loud in her ears.
The thoughts in her head were muddled and disorganized.
Krista's head was throbbing and aching like she had spent all night at a show that had Disturbed and Godsmack opening for Five Finger Death Punch. Every breath she took was deep and intentional, but it did nothing in helping to ease her nausea. A cocktail of Zofran and Excedrin would do the trick… if she were home.
She slipped beneath the covers and curled herself up in the fetal position with her little stuffed rabbit and closed her eyes. As her breathing eventually evened out, the urge to pray to the porcelain god was subsiding. Sleep was out of the question, as her aching skull would make sure of that. All she could do was lie there and hope for the best.
She ignored the first knock outside her door as well as the second. 'If you ignore 'em, they'll go away', she thought.
She thought wrong.
She needn't open her eyes to figure out who it was; she could smell his cologne as soon as he opened the door. At that moment, she wished that she had the forethought to have the boys – and Anastasia – lock her door behind them.
Hans approached her quietly, assuming her to be asleep. She appreciated his respect for her apparent slumber, and was thankful that he was leaving her be. As much as she genuinely did miss him over that last week, company was the last thing she wanted. She was in absolutely no state for it.
Krista ignored the abrasive sound of rustling papers off in some corner of the room and tugged the blankets to nearly cover her entire head. His footsteps were closing in, his boots heavy as he walked. Next came the muffled shuffling of layers of constricting clothing being shed and the telltale clinking of metal on metal contact of his belt being unfastened. His weight settled in behind her, the bed giving slightly beneath him. In hindsight, she probably should have undressed herself following her last bathroom visit, but it was much too late for that now.
She didn't move when she felt him slide under the covers, or even when his arm came to drape over her body. His hand closed loosely around her wrist, his fingertips grazing the back side of her hand.
It was then that Krista finally allowed her eyes to open, but not fully. The unhurried and gentle patterns that he traced over the underside of her wrist with the pad of his thumb were as abstract as they were relaxing. Through her half opened eyes, she merely watched him for a few long moments. Those few moments served as enough of a distraction to make her forget about her ailments.
Her eyes fell closed again when he moved his hand from her wrist to brush her hair away from her neck. A lingering press of his lips was soon to follow, placed gently at the juncture between her shoulder and her neck. "Are you awake?" He asked softly, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.
She stirred, rubbing her legs against his and adjusting the position of her hand to slide her fingers between his. "Kind of," she answered, pressing herself back into him.
"Kind of?" he questioned with a teasing laugh.
Her left arm unfurled from around the toy rabbit, her hand landing atop his. "I was trying to go back to sleep," she whined, wriggling against him.
"You're wearing too much for that," he noted with a grin playing at his lips.
"I had a rough night," she admitted truthfully. "I didn't have the energy to change."
His mood shifted slightly. He was connecting the dots in his head. "Hellstrom and Fischer were outside. Were you with them?"
He was so hard to read sometimes. He seemed to already have a thought in his head, but needed reassurance. Even if he would get angry with her, it was over; the damage had already been done. "I was, but it's got nothing to do with them."
Hans slipped his hand from between hers, and propped himself up on his elbow beside her. "Would you care to fill me in?"
Ah shit. Here we go. "We went to this… bar. And someone put something in my drink."
"You were drugged?" he asked, his voice a cross of anger and concern.
"I think so, but I've never been drugged before, so I don't know."
He sighed. "Do you know who it was?"
Of course she didn't. "No, I was more worried about not passing out."
He shook his head. "I'm going to kill Hellstrom," he said, raising his voice slightly.
"Please keep your voice down… My head is killing me," she tried.
"I told him to keep you safe. And he did the exact opposite."
Well, that escalated quickly. She shouldn't have even said anything. "It was my own fault. I left my drink sitting around."
Hans had gone through all the trouble to get undressed, but was now rushing to clothe himself again. "I trusted him."
"Come on, Hans… I'm fine." She rolled to her other side, and forced herself to a seated position. "How about you don't worry about it right now, and make it a problem for future you."
He stopped buttoning his shirt mid button, and crossed back over to the bed.
"Just worry about it tomorrow. I'm alive, so I think that's what should matter right this second."
Hans took his shirt back off with another shake of his head. "Tomorrow," he began, watching as she started to unbutton her own shirt. "Tomorrow, I am going to kill Hellstrom."
"No you're not," she said with a soft laugh. Krista pulled the covers over herself to hide her breasts from him as she shrugged her shirt off and lobbed it over her shoulder to the floor. She held the covers to her chest with one hand while the other fumbled with the fastening of her skirt. She finally kicked it off, and added it to the shirt that lay forgotten on the floor. Hans flipped back the edges of the blankets enough for him to slip under them.
"I most definitely am," he disagreed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her atop him, chest to chest. "Because if something had happened to you, I would have lost my mind."
"Trust me, it'll take more than that to get rid of me." She laughed then, and closed her eyes as she tucked her face into his neck. Romantic tendencies didn't come naturally to Krista, as she was typically one for physical love rather than the emotional counterpart. She was really beginning to fall in love with their dynamic.
She made him feel like a king, treasuring him like he was the one person she'd sign her life away for. In turn, he worshipped the ground she walked on, endlessly in love with her tireless loyalty.
She felt like when they were together, they couldn't be touched; like they'd do absolutely anything for the other. Krista still couldn't even begin to fathom how their relationship had gone from casual hookups to this. It was so overwhelming, but still so very exciting. There was so much change in such a short amount of time.
She wouldn't be able to stay in Paris forever though. When her adventure had run its course, she'd be back home safe and sound, thousand miles away from Europe, while Hans's fate would be in the balance. She feared that something like this would happen; she feared that she'd develop relationships with people and get attached… Which was exactly what she told Hans not to do. It was hypocritical of her, of course. But she never expected to actually fall in love with anyone.
Their relationship was impenetrable for now, but it wouldn't last. Kaltenbrunner and all of the others against it would make damn sure of that.
July 20th, 1943; Tuesday (Gestapo HQ)
Hans did not intend to actually commit murder or maim Hellstrom whatsoever. He wanted to thank him rather.
He sat at his desk across from the young Major, offering him and appreciative handshake rather than a parrying dagger to the throat. "Thank you, Major Hellstrom. For looking out for Krista."
Dieter angled his head and knitted his brows in confusion. "Sir, I'm confused… Did she tell you what happened?"
Hans sat back in his chair, his attention turning to the dark grey clouds swirling in the sky outside the window. Wind whipped at the trees on the avenue below, their vibrant green leave quivering. He nodded, combing a hand through his short hair. "She did. And I will not lie; I was very upset at first. However, in the grand scheme of things Krista's safety is what matters most to me. I'm thankful that you had enough sense to remove her from the situation as quickly as humanly possible. I fear that if she had been in the hands of anyone else, she wouldn't have made it home."
"I wouldn't have even considered leaving her behind." Dieter turned in his chair, outstretching his legs and crossing them at his ankles. He stuffed his hands down into his pants pockets before continuing. "I know how much you care about her."
Hans sighed deeply allowing the image of his beautiful succubus to cross his mind. "Never in my life have I had a woman bring me to my knees," Hans murmured wistfully.
Dieter chuckled softly. It was becoming increasingly clear that he would never have a snowball's chance in hell with Krista. Hans was absolutely and hopelessly in love with her. "And you're letting her keep you there." Two years was more than an adequate amount of time to become familiar with one's habits and motivators. Hans always had the upper hand in his escapades, and he never stuck around long enough for emotional bonds to grow and blossom. Krista must be more enchanting to Hans that Dieter realized.
Hans laughed to himself and shook his head. "Until she's had her fun, yes." A silence fell between them as he turned back toward Dieter, who was still kicked back. "When I find out who drugged her, I promise you I will kill them. I couldn't care less who it is."
Hans's words would have come as a shock to anyone but Dieter. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Hans was willing to get retribution for hurting the one he loved more than anything. "You'd really kill for her?" he asked quietly.
"Without a moment's hesitation," he answered seriously. He folded his arms across the desktop and leaned forward slightly. "No woman has ever shown me love in the way that Krista does… When I say I would do anything for that woman, I mean every word with the entirety of my being. I would die for her if it came to it."
Hans's love for Krista was absolutely real. His words caused Dieter's heart to ache. With the willingness to lay his life down for her, Dieter knew that he never really had a chance with her. As much pain as it caused him, he understood completely. If the tables were turned, and Krista was his girl, he'd go to the same extremes to keep her safe. "She's your pride and joy," Dieter said, fumbling with whatever it was that he found inside his pocket. "I never had a chance with her, did I?"
Hans raised an eyebrow, ignoring Kaltenbrunner's figure now looming outside his office. "Do you want me to answer that truthfully?"
He laughed again, shaking his head. "No, actually. Forget that I asked."
"Gentlemen," Kaltenbrunner said, addressing Hans and Dieter together as he helped himself inside. He stood in the door way with his hands clasped together in front of him like he was waiting for something.
"Yes, Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner. What can I do for you today?" Hans asked with a note of irritation in his voice.
"I will see myself out," Dieter said quietly to Hans before cautiously standing up. He glanced awkwardly between the two superior officers, and made his way to the exit. "Heil Hitler," Dieter said with a nod before brushing past Kaltenbrunner.
"Heil Hitler," he replied, his voice void of enthusiasm. He waited until Dieter was well down the hallway before he spoke again, as if he were telling a secret. "How was Berlin?" He asked curiously, taking a seat on the uncomfortable couch along the back wall.
Hans turned his chair to face Ernst, fishing out his cigarette tin from his pocket. He'd been saving the last one for when he really felt like he needed it, and now was that time. "Exactly how you'd expect." He placed the filterless end between his lips, and put his lighter's flame to the other end. "A disorganized mess."
"It makes you thankful you're here and not there, doesn't it?" He asked with a laugh.
"I suppose," he said before taking a long drag and holding it in his lungs for a few seconds. "Did you reach out to Himmler concerning my relationship with Miss Jäger?"
"I absolutely did. And I'm afraid that the two of us share the same opinion. She's a worthless yankee that has no business doing what she's doing," he said disgustedly.
"Tell me what exactly it is that she's doing. Because as far as I'm concerned, she has done nothing wrong." He'd always be at her defense.
Ernst narrowed his eyes, but didn't open his mouth, and no words came out.
"My point is making itself. You can't tell me a single thing that she has done wrong. Your unjustified hate for her is nonsensical. All she wants are answers that her family wouldn't give to her." Hans held Kaltenbrunner's gaze and discarded his burning cigarette in the ashtray. So much for enjoying that smoke. "Not once has she ever asked about my work. Nor has she ever expressed any interest in prying confidential SS intelligence from me." He sighed, scrubbing both of his hands down his face. "I don't know how many times I need to repeat myself. She is not a spy, and she means no harm. You are going to have to come to terms with that."
Kaltenbrunner shook his head. "I will never trust her," he said evenly. "You shouldn't either."
Hans stood up and walked his way to the door. "I appreciate that my relationships are in your best interest. But I would like to remind you that I am more than capable of making my own decisions. How those decisions reflect on me should mean very little to you."
Kaltenbrunner stood up, placing himself separated by a foot before Hans. "Your actions reflect on the SS as well as yourself. Think twice about what you do from this point forward. Himmler expects you to get rid of her. As do I."
He put a hand on Kaltenbrunner's arm, and guided him out the door. "I don't think that's going to happen," he conceded. "You'll have to kill me before you take her from me," he added quietly. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Obergruppenführer."
"Don't think that getting rid of the two of you together as a package isn't on the table. All it would take would be a long distance phone call to Berlin, and I could have the order by the morning," he threatened.
Ernst was one to talk, but take no actions, Hans learned that quickly. He suspected this was no different. "I don't think you have the balls to do that," Hans said with a cheeky grin as he clapped Kaltenbrunner in the middle of his back. "Heil Hitler."
Kaltenbrunner didn't even reply. Childishly, he rolled his eyes, and slammed Hans's office door behind him. Such an asshole…
August 1st, 1943; Sunday (6:13 PM – The Saint James)
Krista gazed into the mirror at her dolled up face. Her winged eyeliner was sharp as a katana, and her false lashes curled to the sky. Her glossed red lips curled into a grin when she felt Hans's hands skim over her hips as he occupied the space behind her. "Berlin looks beautiful on you," he said as he wrapped the ultramarine ribbon tails at her lower back around his fingers.
"Thank you," she said, catching his eyes in the mirror. There was something so oddly sensual about looking into his eyes indirectly, and watching the way they raked appreciatively over her body. "It's gorgeous," she said, watching as he buried his face into her neck and closed his eyes.
Hans cinched the ribbon suddenly, tightening the dress around her waist and pulling her back into his chest. He tied it into a neat bow as he looked up into her eyes in the mirror again. "It's perfect on you." He smoothed his hands down the front of her body with his lips leaving trails of embers as they traveled their way across her shoulder.
She turned around within the small space between Hans and the bathroom sink and curled her slender fingers around the back of his neck. He gripped at the porcelain of the sink to hold himself upright as he let her pull his lips to her neck. A hum vibrated over her skin, and every taunting flick of his tongue drove her body temperature higher and higher.
He continued his voyage upward, nipping along her jaw line on his way to her lips. She pressed a fingertip to his lips. "Lip gloss, babe," she said, tilting her head playfully.
"Do I look like I care?" he asked, proceeding to press a deep, emotion filled kiss to her wanting lips.
"You never do," she said, reaching for a towel to wipe the red gloss from his mouth. "You wouldn't want anyone to know you were kissing me though, would you?"
"Yes I would, actually. I'd let them watch," he said devilishly before weaving his fingers into her soft waves and bringing her lips to his again. The inebriating press and slide of their lips together was what he craved at night when he lay in bed alone with nothing but his hand and his imagination. "We're going to be late… our table is waiting," he mentioned, but was making no attempt to stop what he was doing.
Krista wiped his mouth one more time before dropping the towel into the sink. Without a single word, she slipped from his grasp, and made her way back out into the room. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have some new sketches I've been working on. You're going to love them," she said, checking her contents of her small clutch to make sure her necessities were in place.
Hans seated himself in the chair in the corner of the room and scooped both of her heels up from the floor. He watched her unblinkingly as she slowly strode her way to him. She brought her foot up to the seat of the chair, between his legs. He dropped the left shoe back to the floor to free up one of his hands. That free hand trailed up her leg, kneading and caressing her skin while he dropped a series of feathery soft kisses there. "One of these days, one of those sketches is going to be on your body," he breathed, nipping her gently before slipping her heel onto her foot.
Krista shook her head, offering her other foot to him. "I wish," she mused. Most of her lingerie sketches were fit for body types that weren't her own. She could hardly do any of her work justice. "If I knew how to sew, I could probably figure out how to put something together."
She pulled him to his feet by his hands, and picked her clutch up on the way out the door.
The only thing Hans said was, 'wear the dress from Berlin'. Okay. Easy enough. She could see why.
The lounge they walked into was hands down the most upscale establishment she'd been inside in the city. The walls were all washed in white, accented with rich gold molding. The chandeliers of crystal that hung from the ceiling were not entirely different from the ballroom inside the Saint James. They were incredibly large, the light they produced flooding the interior.
Hans slipped a glass of champagne into Krista's empty hand, and drew her close with an arm around her waist. He held his own up with a bright smile.
"So what's the occasion?" she asked, rotating the glass in her hand.
"I wanted to show you off," he replied, his eyes making a journey from her head down to her feet. "And I wanted to congratulate Red's headliner."
Krista blushed, raising her glass to his. "I don't know if I have the spot though. A lot of girls wanted it."
He took her hand, and walked her back toward the back of the building. "Perhaps they did, but they don't have your ambition."
The headliner audition was far in the rear view now, and the anticipation of the results was more maddening than the stress of the audition itself. Krista had been confident going in, but she hadn't spent weeks preparing like the other dancers did. It was a last minute decision, but she thought she'd try her luck. She thought she had what it takes.
Hand in hand, they floated past women dressed to the nines with diamond necklaces and bracelets and earrings to match. They hung off the arms of the highest ranking officers stationed in the city, clad sharply in their parade dress uniforms. Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and powerful.
Nothing quite made her feel like her secrets had secrets like being in a room full of the officers that were pulling the strings and calling the shots.
She sat down to the left of Hans in the forest green leather booth politely, pushing all of her external stressors out of her thought space for the evening. She wasn't going to be concerned about Kaltenbrunner's threats and all of the eagle eyes on their relationship for the time being. It was a time to simply be with Hans and unwind a bit.
She let a hand rest on his thigh, the bold red of her nails contrasting with the grey in his uniform. His hand found its way on top of hers, his fingers wrapping around her hand.
Every spontaneous press of his lips to hers made her heart flutter, but she figured she'd be over the butterflies by now.
Every sidelong glance that came after those publicly compliant kisses revealed the same thing. A pallid blonde woman standing near the lobby staring in her direction. Odd as it was, she thought it to be a coincidence; the place was packed. She could be looking at anyone.
"Hans, do you know who that is? She keeps looking over here," Krista said quietly, leaning over to Hans's ear and nodding in the woman's direction.
He raised his eyes to the direction she nodded and sighed when he saw the woman's lips curl into a mischievous grin.
Bridget was fuming, but smiling through it.
She watched in silent disgust as Krista sipped her champagne while she smiled and laughed, soaking in Hans's gazes of adoration in the meantime. It just wasn't fair. This girl was much too young for him, and well… not herself.
She crossed her way to the happy couple's table, keeping her line of sight locked on Hans.
Krista glanced up from the table, noticing the blonde approaching them like she was on a mission. She was classically beautiful, with perfectly smooth curls and crisp makeup. "Beautiful evening, isn't it?" she said in German, floating to the table. Her hand rested on the back of the chair that sat vacant across from them, her fingers lithely curling around it.
Krista locked her distrustful eyes with the woman, only letting up when she turned her attention to Hans. "I see you that you made it to the city."
She laughed, baring her pearly white teeth. "Did you really think that I needed you to get to Paris?" She snorted. "Please."
"Did I not make it clear that I was not interested in crossing paths with you again?" he questioned, leaning forward and cocking his head.
"You did, but I just had to meet this girl that you're so in love with," she said sarcastically. "Bridget Von Hammersmark," she said, extending a manicured hand to Krista.
She shook Bridget's hand respectfully, then snaked her hand protectively around Hans's bicep. "Krista Jäger."
"Pleased to meet you," Bridget replied, sounding anything but. She pulled the empty chair out from under the table and placed herself in their personal business.
Krista rolled her eyes subtly, and suddenly felt that her glass was looking much too empty for the conversation that was bound to ensue. "I need another drink," Krista said, sliding her clutch from the table to her lap. "Do you want another?"
"I could take another," he answered as she pulled herself to her feet.
She nodded and mumbled a simple 'okay' before leaning into him and letting her lips fall to his and remaining there for a few moments. She could feel Bridget's judgmental eyes filled with jealousy tearing into her. "Could I get anything for you?" Krista asked Bridget, trying to come across as polite.
"No thank you," she answered, refusing to make eye contact.
"Alright," Krista said quietly, shaking her head once she was away from the table.
Bridget's eyes followed Krista's graceful form out of view before turning to Hans and holding his gaze without saying a single word. She was awaiting him to make the first move. "What are you doing here?" he asked finally.
"I wanted to meet the love of your life." She batted her eyelashes mockingly, resting an elbow on the tabletop. "You speak so highly of her, I wanted to see why… And I can. She's stunning."
Hans was less than impressed by Bridget's backhanded compliment, and shot her an expression that reflected that. "She is. Too beautiful for me in fact," he agreed. "I will say that being with her is like chasing a moving train. You have to run like hell to keep up. And there's no replacement for a woman like that."
Bridget sighed deeply, and sat back in her chair. That clearly wasn't the answer she was hoping for. She truly hoped that his relationship with that brazen little hussy. She didn't have Bridget's class, and she definitely didn't know Hans in the ways that she did. In her eyes, Krista was grossly under qualified. "Well. I'm glad you finally found someone that can match your stamina. Otherwise she wouldn't still be around."
He shook his head. "I've never met anyone as intrusive as you."
"I'd say that inquisitive is a better description," she defended, then changed the subject. "It's endearing that she'd dangling you in front of me."
He nodded amusedly. "Does that bother you?"
"Yes!" She said in a hushed cry. "I didn't get what I wanted in Berlin, but I'll get it here."
He simply stared across the table at her, not an emotion on his face. "I'll make a deal with you."
"Yeah?" she asked, perking up and grinning.
"If you get Krista's permission, I'm all yours," he offered.
"Consider your challenge accepted," she conceded, her grin slipping when Krista slipped back in the booth beside Hans.
He looked over at Krista, who was keeping herself composed on the outside. The void of amusement in her eyes due to Bridget's presence told him otherwise; she was likely thinking of all the ways she could tie Bridget's hair around her neck and strangle her. "Thank you, love."
"Of course," she purred, casting a glance in Bridget's direction. She rested her hand on Han's thigh again as she took a healthy drink from her new glass of champagne.
"Could I steal your girl for a moment?" Bridget asked Hans with a sparkling, hopeful smile.
He looked to Krista to answer. She was wasting no time in taking on his challenge head on. "I suppose," she answered. Hans shook his head slowly and sat back. There was no way that Krista would ever agree to what Bridget wanted her to. She didn't have a chance. 'Good luck,' he thought to himself.
Krista regrettably stood up after giving Hans a squeeze. She followed behind Bridget until they were outside of the lounge, with the sun low in the sky and directly in their eyes. "Do you have an issue with me?" Krista spoke up, not at all willing to let the other woman speak first.
She laughed breathily. "There's no need to have an attitude darling," she said defensively. "I don't want any trouble. I have a proposition for you, rather."
Krista looked at Bridget, waiting for her to continue.
"Have you ever had someone that makes you feel like you're the only woman in the world sometimes?"
She failed to see where Bridget was going with this, but alright. "I have. Hans makes me feel like that all the time."
She shook her head, drilling her eyes into Krista. "So arrogant," she mentioned, depreciatively looking her up and down.
"What's your proposition?" Krista asked, redirecting the conversation quickly and ignoring the comment.
She sighed, taking a step closer to Krista a lowering her voice. "I just want one more night with Hans. If you give me that, I can get your beautiful face on billboards across Europe."
If Krista had an attitude in Bridget's eyes, she may as well embrace it. She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest, her breasts forced upward in the process. "Oh wow! That sounds great! You could really make me famous?" she asked mockingly.
"I could make the arrangements and get you started tomorrow," Bridget said, gullibly buying into Krista's words.
She sighed taking a step toward Bridget, closing into her personal space. "You must think I'm stupid." Krista narrowed her eyes. "Did you really think that I was going to let you sleep with him?"
Bridget looked down to the ground, averting Krista's burning green eyes. "I was hoping that your relationship was nowhere near as serious as it is."
"I'm not going to let you do anything with him. Let me catch you try though," she shot Bridget an 'I dare you' wink before taking a step back, and turning back to the doors to the lounge.
"A girl like you doesn't deserve a man like Hans," Bridget said venomously as she crossed her arms.
'God give me the strength to not beat this woman's ass,' Krista thought as she closed her eyes and turned back away from the doors. "A woman like me?" She questioned, although she knew what was about to come next.
"Well…" Bridget sneered, letting a sour chuckle pass through her matte red lips.
"Why don't you just call me a whore and get it over with?"
"Is that not what you are?"
Krista's insides felt like they were boiling. How did this woman get off saying all this when she just met Krista less than an hour ago? "Sweetheart, I'm a dancer. That's all I do. I dance… If my confidence in my sexuality makes you uncomfortable, I sincerely apologize, but maybe that's what Hans wanted." She caught Bridget's glittery pacific blue eyes in a bitter glare, not even noticing Hans's arm curling around her back from behind.
"Is there a problem here ladies?" he asked. Judging by the daggers that were being shot at Bridget, things weren't seeming that they were going to end in her favor. Just as he suspected.
Bridget opened her mouth, but Krista stopped her. "Not at all. I was just telling Frau Von Hammersmark that her dress is to die for. Is it Hugo Boss?"
Bridget rolled her eyes and shook her head again. She'd roll her eyes right out of her head if she wasn't careful. "I was just leaving." She adjusted the fur that hung from her arms and nervously patted at her curled hair. "Your attack dog is too aggressive. She should be muzzled."
Krista dug her nails into the palms of her hands, trying to ignore the flow of adrenaline rushing through her veins. Who did this bitch think she was? Krista took a step forward, fully prepared to give Bridget a reason to think she was Hans's attack dog.
Hans pressed his fingers into Krista's hip, stopping her in her tracks. She was furious, but he was entertained. He laughed even. "I won't reprimand her for being protective of what's hers."
Author's Note: I apologize for this chapter being nearly a week late. Writer's block really bonked me over the head with this one.
I also want to apologize if anyone is upset by the way I've decided to write Bridget. But I really wanted her to be jealous and salty and act entitled because of her celebrity status.
Furthermore, I would like to thank those of you that read and continue to read, because I do realize there are much better fanfics out there. So thank you all so much for reading and voting and all that jazz!