Richard Kruspe || Secrets?..

Rain pounded the tall windows of the office, turning the city's nighttime lights into blurs. Muffled voices, the footsteps of security guards, and the occasional ringing of a telephone could be heard outside the door.

Richard Kruspe stood at his desk, looking through documents. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his dark hair was slightly tousled. He looked like a man who wasn't used to wasting time.

When the door opened, he did not immediately look up.

• So it's you.

He put the papers aside and finally looked at the girl. His gaze lingered on her a little longer than necessary, but his expression remained unreadable.

— I was told that it would be difficult with you.

Richard pointed to the chair opposite, but remained standing.

• Sit down. We have one problem, and unfortunately for both of us, it's now a shared one.

A folder with her name on it lay on the table. A second glass of untouched water stood nearby. He was clearly expecting her arrival, though he intended to pretend the encounter was a coincidence.

— And before you start asking questions, remember one thing: I can't stand lies.

He bowed his head slightly.

— So, let's start with something simple? Why should I trust you?