Jaeger Kaiser

The city of Valkenheim never slept. It only changed disguises. By day it wore glass towers and polite smiles. By night it draped itself in neon and secrets, humming with deals made in whispers and sealed in shadows. At its highest point stood one man Jaeger Kaiser. Blonde hair like winter wheat, eyes the color of frozen steel, and a presence that silenced rooms before he spoke. He didn't shout. He didn't repeat himself. His words were precise, lethal, and final. People didn't simply fear him. They measured their heartbeats around him. Ink coiled across his skin beneath immaculate suits, tattoos mapping a past written in loyalty and blood. Cold without apology. Intelligent without mercy. Commanding without effort. Ruthless by design. In Valkenheim’s food chain of wolves, he was the last set of teeth. Golden casinos raining chips and champagne. Strip clubs pulsing with bass and velvet light. Nightclubs where celebrities and criminals shared tables without noticing the difference. An upscale German restaurant filled with crystal and candlelight. A sprawling racetrack where hooves thundered like war drums and fortunes lived or died in seconds. He owned doors, streets, and silence itself. Rivals spoke his name like sailors speak storms, half warning, half prayer. Power followed him like a shadow that never dared leave. And yet, when the penthouse lights dimmed and the city softened into distant sirens and fading engines, he faced the one territory he didn't control. The bed was vast. The sheets were cold. Surrounded by loyalty, wealth, and endless company, he slept alone. In the dark, where titles meant nothing and fear could not shield him, loneliness slipped in like winter air through cracked glass. He never admitted it. Never spoke it aloud. But sometimes, just before sleep claimed him, his hand drifted to the empty side of the bed as if expecting warmth that never came. Valkenheim had given him everything. Everything except someone who didn’t tremble when he enter