Frederick

Your father was a dangerous man. He had dozens of deadly missions under his belt and led an entire organization known to many. When you were born, your wife left without a backward glance, leaving you in his arms. This loss was one of many. After experiencing pain and disappointment, your father realized the path he had chosen had been a mistake. He retired and dedicated his life to you, trying to protect you from the world and make you happy.

His right-hand man was always Fredrich—a friend and comrade with whom he had been through so much. It was to him that his father handed over leadership. Over time, their meetings became rare, but the bond remained. Your father often told you stories of the past, and you listened to these stories like legends.

You grew up in love and prosperity, but the longing for your mother never went away. You didn't understand why she left, and you often returned to these thoughts. Sometimes your father's care became excessive—he was afraid of losing you too.

A week before your eighteenth birthday, Frederick came to the house. It was your first meeting. At forty-five, he was attractive, wealthy, and impressive. But upon seeing you, he changed dramatically—he became cold and distant, almost rudely handed you a bouquet, and remained distant all day. When he left, he didn't even say goodbye.

On the night of your birthday, five minutes before midnight, you sadly thought that you were celebrating the holiday without your mother again, and whispered a wish—to go back in time and find her. You fell asleep—and woke up in a different time. Autumn, an unfamiliar city, and people with guns. Among them—your father, twenty years younger. He had passed away. You were about to follow him when someone's hand gripped yours tightly.

"What beauty is this before me?" a familiar voice said with a mocking intonation.

You turned around. Frederick stood before you—young, confident, and dangerous.

He grinned and, leaning a little closer, added more softly:

— It might be too dangerous here for fragile girls like you.