Georg dragged a hand down his face. Not again.

Outside his office window, Marie's unmistakable voice cut through the raucous sounds of the club.

"Say it again, you bastard!" she shrieked, her words sharp enough to slice through the night air. A dull thud followed, no doubt the sound of her fist landing on some poor idiot's jaw.

Georg didn't even bother to look.

He flipped a page in his ledger, forcing himself to focus. The drunken visitors of Stuwerviertel should have known better by now—Marie de Sachelles was not a woman to be trifled with.

Then, another familiar voice joined in, and Georg let out a groan.

Big Boy.

The giant of a man, always draped in flamboyant silks, had taken note of Marie's rage and, as expected, was making it worse. His rich, exaggerated singing carried over the noise of the crowd, teasing Marie with some ridiculous ballad about her masculine energy.

Georg didn't have to look to know Marie's expression had darkened.

"Get lost, Big Boy!" she hollered. "Or I swear I'll knock that stupid wig off your head!"

Big Boy only laughed, continuing his performance with more dramatic flair.

The crowd gasped, a mix of amusement and horror, as Marie redirected her fury toward the scoundrel she had originally been fighting.

"I'll get you for that," she hissed, her voice seething with venom.

Georg exhaled slowly, gripping the ledger tighter. For God's sake. He exhaled through his nose, forcing his attention back to the ledger. The numbers blurred slightly before him, but he was used to that. He tapped the tip of his pen against the desk, focusing.

Then—thump!

A heavy, unmistakable sound echoed from the street below.

Georg's head snapped up. With a resigned sigh, he pushed his chair back and made his way to the window. He peered outside just in time to see two local policemen struggling to carry a man slumped against a lamppost.

No doubt Marie's doing.

Even from a distance, he could piece together the story. The poor fool must have run his mouth, and Marie—never one to back down—had taken matters into her own hands. She'd led him straight into the lamppost, leaving him unconscious or dazed enough for the authorities to intervene.

Three young women clung to Marie, holding her back with all the strength their small frames could muster. Their combined effort was just barely enough to keep her from lunging at the fool again.

Georg sighed and rubbed his temple. He had hoped for some peace tonight.

He turned away from the window and sat back at his desk, rolling his shoulders. Maybe, if he ignored it long enough, the chaos would settle itself.

It lasted a whole five minutes before his office door burst open.

Marie stormed in, her energy still crackling, Big Boy right behind her with his usual amused smirk. Lilian and Daniela followed closely, lingering near the door, eyes gleaming with interest.

Georg clenched his jaw and slowly closed his ledger. So much for peace.

He combed a hand through his hair before standing from his desk. His patience was already wearing thin, but he had to at least try to keep order in his own office.

"What was the fight about this time?" he asked, his voice steady but tired.

Marie, who had looked fiery and determined when she entered, suddenly glanced down, her guilt apparent. "He called me peerless," she muttered.

Georg frowned. He leaned back against the table, arms crossed. "Did he really say that?" He questioned, wondering why she gave that man a drubbing.

Marie nodded but scowled. "I don't know what it means, but surely it can't be anything good."

From the side, Big Boy—who had been lazily filing his nails—let out a low chuckle. "I think it means penniless," he muttered, barely looking up. "Like dirt poor."

Marie's head snapped toward him so fast that even Georg flinched.

"You lout!" she bellowed, her fists clenching. Before anyone could stop her, she lunged.

Big Boy, well aware of what was coming, took a graceful step back just as the two taller women behind Marie managed to seize her arms and hold her back. Marie struggled against their grip, snarling threats, while Big Boy smirked and flicked away the dust from his nails, stepping even farther away.

Georg had had enough. He straightened and raised his voice. "When will you two ever learn?"

His tone cut through the chaos, making them all pause.

Marie still glared at Big Boy, her body tense, while Big Boy grinned like he had all the time in the world.

Lilian sighed and threw up her hands. "Everyone calm down," she declared, exasperated. Then, with a pointed look at Big Boy, she added, "This is all just about him being dumb."

As she shuffled beside Georg, Lilian waved a finger in the air, her tone confident. "Peerless means you don't have a pier!"

Daniela nodded in agreement. "Yes! Because 'pier' comes before 'less'!"

Georg exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He wasn't sure if they were being serious or just messing around at this point. Either way, this conversation had gone on long enough.

Standing up, he turned to Marie with a small smile, clutching her shoulders. "It means you're incomparable," he said simply.

Lilian let out an exaggerated noise of awe, her eyes widening. "Ohhh, so that's what it means!"

Behind Georg, Big Boy let out a loud laugh, his deep chuckle filling the room. Georg shot him a warning glare before turning back to Marie. "It does mean incomparable," he reaffirmed, giving her an encouraging nod.

Lilian and Daniela repeated the word in unison—"Incomparable!"—before suddenly wrapping Marie in a tight hug.

Marie, still processing, mumbled, "So... incomparable isn't bad."

Big Boy clapped his hands together, and soon Lilian and Daniela followed, their excitement infectious.

Georg crossed his arms, watching the absurd little celebration unfold before him. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. If I can't bring joy to myself, he thought, then at least I'll bring joy to others—even to my crazy friends.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Maria pressed the phone to her ear, the familiar clicking of the rotary dial echoing softly in the quiet room. She listened intently as the ringing went through, her fingers tightening slightly around the small box in her other hand.

After a few moments, Max picked up.

"I need to talk to you," Maria said, her voice steady, though there was an underlying tension beneath it.

She shook her head instinctively, even though he couldn't see her. "No, it has to be in person." Her gaze flickered down to the box she held, her thumb brushing over its smooth surface.

Another pause. His voice filled the receiver, asking something.

"No," she answered firmly. "I'd prefer it to be in the city."

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall as she listened to his response. "When will you be free this afternoon?" she asked, her voice quieter this time.

A beat passed. Then, she gave a small nod. "Alright. I'll see you there—at the shopping center."

Without another word, she lowered the receiver back onto its cradle, exhaling softly.

Turning on her heel, she walked toward her room.

The moment she stepped inside, her eyes immediately sought the cross hanging above her bed. She approached it slowly, as if drawn by an unseen force.

With careful hands, she lifted the lid of the box, revealing Georg's rosary nestled inside.

Her fingers hovered over it for a moment before she finally looked up at the cross, her voice quiet yet resolute.

"I'll hand it to Max. I'm going to return it."

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Georg descended the stairs, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket as he moved with purpose. The common room was dimly lit, the air thick with the lingering scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

From her usual spot at the bar, Daniela swirled her drink idly before raising her eyes to him. "You heading out?" she asked, her voice lazy but laced with curiosity.

"Yes," Georg answered curtly, his strides unbroken as he made his way toward the next flight of stairs.

Behind him, Daniela tilted her head and called out, "There was a news on the radio. Something's happening at Ballhausplatz. Some unknown men stormed the chancellery. Vienna's a mess right now."

Georg barely hesitated. He had already reached the steps when Lilian appeared in front of him, her expression tense. "Georg, stop," she said firmly. "They're closing up the stores downstairs. The whole city's on edge."

"I need to speak with Max." His voice was resolute, his jaw set.

Lilian stepped closer, lowering her voice. "At least wait for the chaos to settle."

"I can't." He shook his head, brushing past her. "I really need to talk to him."

Daniela and Lilian exchanged a quick glance before moving after him, their protests growing more urgent, but his longer strides carried him easily ahead. He wasn't about to be stopped.

The moment he stepped outside, the weight of the city's unrest hit him. The streets were quieter than usual, but an uneasy energy loomed in the air. As he made his way toward his car, Marie suddenly appeared in his path.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, her sharp eyes scanning his determined face. Before he could respond, she crossed her arms. "You know there's a commotion in Vienna, right? Now is not the time to leave."

"I really need to talk to Max."

Marie huffed, clearly exasperated. "It won't do you any good. Max has his hands full, no doubt helping that reporter friend of his. You won't get much out of him."

Georg turned away from her, his patience thinning. He strode toward his car without another word.

"Georg!" Marie called after him, her tone bordering on frustration.

He ignored her, pulling open the car door and sliding into the driver's seat. With a quick turn of the key, the engine roared to life.

Nothing could stop him from talking to Max. He needed someone to talk to.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Maria's steps were quick, purposeful, her shoes tapping against the stone steps as she descended. The air inside the convent was still, but her heart raced with urgency.

Behind her, Sister Katherine struggled to keep up, her breaths uneven. "Maria, wait—" she pleaded, nearly running to match Maria's longer strides. "It's risky to go out! Vienna is unsafe right now."

Maria didn't slow down. "I've made a very important decision," she said firmly, reaching the last step. She turned briefly, her eyes alight with determination. "I have to go."

Sister Katherine's brow furrowed in concern. "Can't it wait?"

"No," Maria answered without hesitation.

She clutched the small box in her hands, feeling the weight of Georg's rosary inside. Nothing could stop her from going to Max. She needed to give it to him.

With that final thought, she pulled open the heavy wooden door of the convent and stepped outside, leaving Sister Katherine behind.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Georg stepped out of his car, the roar of engines filling his ears as multiple police vehicles sped past, sirens blaring. The urgency in the air was palpable, but he had no time to hesitate. He took a breath and crossed the street, slipping through the glass doors of the shopping center.

Inside, chaos reigned. People rushed toward the exits, voices overlapping in panicked urgency. Store clerks hastily pulled down metal shutters, their hands trembling as they locked up their shops. Georg moved against the current, scanning the fleeing faces, hoping to spot Max.

A sudden impact against his legs made him stop. He looked down to find a young child clutching at his coat, wide eyes filled with fear. Instinctively, Georg knelt and shielded the boy, his strong arms bracing against the bodies pressing around them.

"Where's your mother?" he asked, his voice steady despite the surrounding panic.

The boy didn't answer, but a desperate cry from nearby caught Georg's attention. A woman, eyes wild with fear, pushed through the crowd toward them. Seeing her son, relief crashed over her face.

Georg gently let go of the boy, guiding him back into her waiting arms. "Go," he urged. "Get out safely."

The mother nodded frantically, clutching her son as she disappeared into the flood of evacuating people. Georg's gaze lingered on them for a moment before he turned back toward the deserted interior of the building.

With each passing second, the shopping center emptied, the sounds of hurried footsteps fading. He pressed on, walking to the staircase just at the bend, his surroundings growing eerily silent.

Then—another impact.

This time, it wasn't a child. He had walked straight into someone.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Maria had searched high and low, but there was no trace of Max anywhere. Oh, help. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, trying to steady her breathing. She should have listened to Sister Katherine. Of course, Max wouldn't be here—he was either too busy or too smart to linger in the heart of Vienna when chaos was breaking loose.

Panic bubbled inside her as she turned on her heel, hurrying toward the staircase. She needed to leave before things got worse. The air was heavy with tension, the distant wail of sirens filtering in from outside.

Her steps were quick, nearly frantic, as she descended the stairs. But just as she reached the bottom, she collided—hard—into something solid.

Or rather, someone.

Maria gasped as she lost her footing, but before she could hit the ground, strong hands caught her.

She looked up, and her breath hitched.

It wasn't a wall at all.

It was Georg.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the shock freezing them in place. His dark eyes, wide with surprise, locked onto hers.

The world around them seemed to stop.

The sirens outside, the hurried footsteps, the distant voices—it all faded into an unearthly silence.

Maria felt the warmth of his arms still tight around her waist, holding her steady. It was only then that she realized her own hands were pressed against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket. Underneath, she could feel the quick, uneven beat of his heart.

Despite the chaos beyond these walls, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

Georg's dark gaze held hers, intense and searching, and then—lowered.

Maria's breath caught as his eyes flickered down to her lips. The moment stretched, thick with something unspoken, something she didn't dare name. A blush crept up her face, heat rising from the pit of her stomach.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips inching closer.

Maria should have pulled away.

She should have stopped this before it began.

But there was something about him—something that made her breathless, something that let her inhibitions slip, something that made the world beyond him cease to matter.

And so, when his lips finally brushed over hers, Maria let him.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

How long had he dreamt of this?

Full and warm and lush—just as he had imagined.

A forbidden taste, intoxicating, something he could never have enough of.

Georg cupped her cheek, his fingers brushing against the soft heat of her skin as he gently tilted her face, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathy sigh escaped her lips, and she yielded to him—parting just enough to let him in.

He wanted more. Needed more.

He gave her his tongue, sweeping it against hers in a slow, deliberate caress.

A small sound escaped her throat, something between a gasp and a whimper. It sent fire coursing through his veins. Maria shivered, her fingers curling around his necktie. She tugged, just slightly, pulling him closer. As if he wasn't already desperate to be near her. As if he wasn't already pressing her against him, feeling the delicious press of her body molding against his own. The way her form fit so perfectly against his—it was intoxicating.

Tentative at first, hesitant. A slow, delicate sweep of her tongue against his, a shy exploration.
Then, with growing confidence, she met him. Matched him.

There was no practiced skill in her kisses, no calculated seduction, and yet—God help him—it was the most rousing thing he had ever known.

His hand slid from her jaw to her nape, fingers aching to thread into her hair. The stiff fabric of her postulant's veil stood in his way, a stark reminder of what she was, of what she was meant to be. But still, he kissed her harder, claiming her fully.

And Georg was lost.

The thought of filling her, of claiming every inch of her, surged through him with a force so primal it nearly knocked him off balance. His need for her raged, uncontrollable, consuming—

And then, a shriek from outside shattered the moment.

Maria jolted away, eyes wide, breath uneven, her lips swollen and kiss-stung.

Another noise rang through the shopping center.

She turned, darting frantic glances around them as if terrified someone had seen. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, and when her gaze met his again, it was filled with something raw and unreadable.

Then—she ran.

Georg watched her go, disappearing down the corridor like she was fleeing a crime. And yet—this time, he didn't feel the devastation he had known before.

Because this time, he had tasted her.

And that taste told him everything he needed to know.

Maria wanted him as much as he wanted her.

A slow, almost delirious smile curled at his lips as he stood alone in the empty shopping center, looking every bit the madman.