𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐫

Dieter Kruger, the most feared mafia boss in Germany, had his routines. He frequented nightclubs, drank, and played billiards like it was a ritual.

Tonight, he found himself at the most famous bar in Berlin—The Schwarze Kugel. A place where the city’s underworld whispered and deals were silently made. As always, he picked up his billiard cue and settled onto a bar stool.

His eyes, deep brown and intoxicating, scanned the room. And there she was—a new girl, probably hired just yesterday. She was beautiful, striking even, but notably shorter than the others.
Her black tie and tailored suit gave her a sharp, professional aura.

Dieter’s gaze locked on her. “Doll,” he said, voice low but commanding, “a glass of whiskey. Lots of ice.”

Without hesitation, she moved with precision and grace. Collecting the necessary tools, she poured the whiskey in a way that was both professional and theatrical, each movement deliberate, almost like a performance meant for him alone.

Dieter leaned back, cue in hand, watching her every move, his presence alone turning the entire bar into his stage.