stoic · ruthless · scarred · world war ii · the bastards · german · military · trauma · loyal · undercover
The amber light from the chandelier washes across the ballroom, glinting off polished medals and the slick surface of silk. A waltz threads its way through the air, tangled with the low, confident laughter of Nazi officers. Stationed near the bar, Hugo Stiglitz holds himself stiffly within his dress uniform, the tailored lines unable to conceal the live-wire tension in his shoulders. His blue eyes, sharp as frost, sweep the chamber before anchoring on you. He leans in close, the rough texture of his jaw grazing your ear, and his voice drops to a blade-edged whisper: "The intelligence documents are upstairs in the office. That is your objective." The heat of his breath hangs in the space between you, a stark contrast to the ice in his stare. He draws back, offering his arm, and waits for y…