—VROOOOM!
The black Corvette roared down the highway, the deep sound of the V8 engine echoing off the surrounding concrete barriers. After twenty minutes of white-knuckle, adrenaline-fueled driving that left Bellatrix breathless and clinging to the leather armrests, Max finally slowed the heavy sports car down.
He smoothly navigated the Corvette off the main highway and turned into a quiet, picturesque commercial district. He tapped the brakes, pulling the sleek car into a designated parking spot right in front of a quaint, traditional-looking storefront.
He shifted the car into park and killed the massive engine. The sudden silence in the cabin was almost deafening.
"I swear to God, I am going to kill you, Mr. Hoffman. Hmph!" Bellatrix declared loudly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She was still genuinely mad about Max's terrifying driving prank, her heart still hammering wildly against her ribs.
Max only let out a rich, warm laugh. He didn't even attempt to say sorry for the scare. He just unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned forward slightly, and looked out his window at the large, hand-painted wooden sign hanging above the bakery entrance.
They were now parked in the heart of Raleigh, North Carolina. Standing right in front of them was a charming, old-world establishment named 'Annelore's German Bakery'. The storefront featured dark wood trim, large display windows showing off intricate cakes, and a heavy, welcoming oak door.
Bellatrix unbuckled her own seatbelt, smoothing down her denim skirt. She looked out the window and blinked in mild surprise.
"Ahh, Max?" Bellatrix said, turning her head to look at him.
"Hmm?" Max replied, turning his amber eyes toward her.
"Why exactly are we here for our first date? I mean, I definitely know about this specific bakery, but…" She paused, looking at the somewhat rustic exterior.
"You definitely could have chosen a much better, fancier place for us to go, y'know?" Bellatrix said, raising an eyebrow. "Like a high-end steakhouse or a quiet Italian restaurant."
Max raised an eyebrow right back at her, a confident smirk touching his lips.
"Really? You think so?" Max challenged gently. "I thought this specific place would be absolutely perfect for you. Since I know for a fact that there are many authentic, highly specialized chocolate pastries made fresh here every single day."
Bellatrix's critical expression vanished in a fraction of a second.
"Wait, they actually have genuine chocolate pastries here now?!"
Bellatrix completely switched her questioning, skeptical face to a brilliantly gleamed one. She looked exactly like an excited child who had just been told that there was a massive, free ice cream truck parked right around the corner.
Max laughed inwardly at her rapid, adorable change in mood. He nodded his head firmly.
"Yeah, they do," Max confirmed, raising a single finger to list off the items he had researched. "There's the classic German Chocolate Bar, the traditional Prinzregenten Torte, and of course, the authentic German Chocolate Cake. Which are their most famous, traditional pastries, FYI."
"Woah…" Bellatrix breathed out softly. Her gray eyes practically gleamed with literal sparkles as she heard the magical words 'German Chocolate Bar'. Her sweet tooth completely overrode her desire for a fancy, expensive dinner date.
Max then stepped out of the low sports car. He walked around the hood, opened her passenger door, and offered his large, scarred hand to her in a highly courteous, old-fashioned gesture.
"So, shall we head inside, my lady~?" Max asked, his voice dropping into a smooth, teasing tone.
Bellatrix didn't hesitate. She firmly held his offered hand, letting him help her step out of the low car, and happily replied with a bright smile.
"Mhm!"
Max laughed softly at her enthusiasm. He closed the heavy car door behind her and gently led her by the hand toward the entrance of the bakery.
He reached out and pushed the heavy oak door open.
—CLING CLANG!
A small, brass bell hanging above the doorframe chimed brightly, announcing their arrival.
As they stepped across the threshold, the rich, intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread, melting dark chocolate, and warm vanilla immediately washed over them.
"Woah…" Bellatrix whispered, her gray eyes widening to an impossible degree.
She stood frozen near the entrance, in deep, genuine awe at how much they had completely changed the interior design of this bakery over the last five years.
She vividly remembered visiting this exact place before, back when she was just twenty years old and newly arrived in the state. Back then, it was a very small, cramped shop with only a few simple, dry pastries on their limited menu. That was exactly why, when Max initially brought her here, she had genuinely thought he was joking or pulling another bad prank on her.
But when she heard what Max had researched, she was highly intrigued that they finally offered real, authentic chocolate pastries, which were her absolute favorite comfort food. And now, as she saw the beautiful, newly renovated interior, she was blown away.
The walls were painted a warm, inviting cream color, accented with dark, polished wood beams across the ceiling. Small, intimate tables were scattered across the clean tile floor, and a massive, brightly lit glass display case stretched across the back wall, showing off dozens of intricate, mouth-watering desserts. It felt so warm and nostalgic; it was like she genuinely wished this place was her own home.
Then, a kind, elderly man wearing a crisp white baker's apron stepped out from the back kitchen. He wiped his flour-dusted hands on a towel and offered a warm smile to both of them.
"Hello there! Good afternoon, my valued customers. Please, feel free to have a seat anywhere you like, and I will personally bring you the menu files in just a moment," the old man greeted them, his voice thick with a genuine, welcoming tone.
Max nodded his head respectfully at what the old man had said. He really liked the baker's polite, old-school greeting, and he smiled at the perfect, quiet atmosphere inside the shop. The calm, relaxed mood that the old man was radiating was a welcome change from the dark paranoia of his normal life.
"Good afternoon to you too, sir," Max replied politely.
He then gently squeezed Bellatrix's hand, leading her further inside as she was still completely in awe, her entire focus locked onto looking closely at the beautiful interior decorations and the display cases.
He scanned the small dining area and chose a quiet, secluded table situated near a large front window that offered a nice view of the quiet street. He pulled a wooden chair out for her, waiting for her to sit before he took his own seat opposite her.
Max sat back and smiled warmly. Bellatrix was still completely distracted, her gray eyes darting around as she kept looking at the new interior design and the massive selection of fresh pastries, artisan bread, and even the new shelf dedicated entirely to gluten-free foods.
He rested his elbows on the small table and asked her curiously. "It really seems like this is your first time ever being here, huh?"
Bellatrix finally stopped looking around the shop. She turned her attention back to Max and shook her head side to side.
"Nein. This is actually not really my first time here at all," Bellatrix responded, resting her hands on the table. "Like I mentioned outside, I visited this exact place before, like five long years ago, I guess. Back then, the interior's design was just incredibly simple and overly minimalistic. And there really wasn't much of a selection of pastries or bread on the menu before. Even worse, there were absolutely no gluten-free options at that time."
She smiled brightly, pointing toward the large display case.
"So, I was in genuine shock just now to discover they completely renovated the entire place! And they finally have the authentic German chocolate pastry bar and the traditional cake too! Which were my absolute favorites growing up. And also, I was in deep shock too since they finally realized modern dietary needs and have gluten-free foods on display!"
Max smiled a soft, genuine smile and nodded his head, enjoying her passionate rambling.
"I see, I see. That's really good to know. It's nice when places improve over time," Max replied smoothly. "Anyways, let's just wait patiently for that nice guy to bring the menus over, alright?"
Bellatrix nodded her head enthusiastically. "Mhm!"
As she smiled at him, Max couldn't resist a sudden, playful urge. He reached his hand across the small table, gently placed his fingers on her soft, flushed cheeks, and then playfully pulled them outward.
"Aww! Aww! Awww!!!" Bellatrix reacted immediately, her voice muffled as Max gently stretched her cheeks. She lightly swatted at his wrists.
"Why are you so damn cute, huh?" Max asked, his voice dropping into a teasing, affectionate tone. "Why are you so cuuuutttteeeeee!!!"
He kept his grip light, still playfully pulling her cheeks, completely breaking his usual, stoic assassin persona.
"Le—let it go! Eiiikkkkk!!!" Bellatrix squeaked, trying to pull her face away while giggling softly.
Max laughed freely, a bright, happy sound, as he still pulled her cheeks.
Suddenly, he heard soft footsteps approaching. The kind old man arrived at their table, holding two clean, leather-bound menu files in his hands.
Max immediately stopped pulling her cheeks and quickly retracted his hands, sitting up straight as the old man politely handed both of them the menus.
Bellatrix rubbed her slightly red cheeks, glaring playfully at Max across the table. She completely dropped her English and spoke her native tongue out of sheer, flustered annoyance.
"Das tut weh, du idiot! Hmpf!" (That hurts, you idiot! Hmph!) Bellatrix huffed, crossing her arms as she went full German.
The old man widened his eyes in genuine surprise as he heard her flawless accent. He paused, holding the empty menus, and asked her directly.
"Bist du wirklich eine Deutsche?" (Are you really German?).
Bellatrix immediately dropped her pout. She looked up at the old man, her face lighting up with a proud smile, and nodded her head.
"Ja, ich bin Deutsche und es ist schön, dich kennenzulernen. Ich bin Bellatrix Laurentina Ahlgrymm." (Yes, I'm a German and it's very good to meet you. I'm Bellatrix Laurentina Ahlgrymm.)
Max, feeling suddenly very left out of the rapid-fire cultural exchange happening right in front of him, covered his mouth with his fist.
"Cough, cough!" Max cleared his throat loudly to politely remind them he was still sitting there.
The two of them immediately stopped talking in German and looked down at him.
"Thanks," Max said simply, giving a polite nod to the baker as he received his open menu.
Bellatrix also received her menu from the old man and offered a sweet, polite smile. "Danke." (Thanks.)
The old man nodded his head respectfully, returning her smile.
"Gern geschehen, junge Dame." (You're very welcome, young lady.)
He then turned his head, looking over at Max, and smiled warmly at him as well. "You are also very welcome, young man."
Max smiled back and offered a silent nod of appreciation.
"I will leave you two alone for a while to look over the selections. Just call me over when you finally find what you want to order," the old man said kindly before turning around and heading back toward the front counter to give them some privacy.
Max immediately opened the leather cover and looked down at the menu. "Hmm…"
Bellatrix, however, didn't even bother to open or look at her menu. She rested her elbows on the table, steepled her fingers together, and just looked directly at Max with a highly amused, knowing smirk.
"Are you actually jealous right now?" Bellatrix asked him, her tone thick with teasing.
Max raised a dark eyebrow as he heard her blunt question. He slowly closed his menu, placed it flat on the wooden table, and looked her dead in the eye. He didn't try to hide his true nature.
"Yes. I am," Max admitted bluntly, his voice dropping an octave into a low, serious timber. "You know I am quite a deeply possessive person when it comes to what is mine. And it seems that old guy was really, genuinely glad that he knows you are a true German native. Hell, I bet if I wasn't sitting right here, he would actively make a move onto you, simply because you are much younger, highly intelligent, and incredibly beautiful."
Max said the last part with complete, unwavering seriousness. He wasn't joking. His amber eyes were cold and focused, analyzing the old baker as a potential, albeit unlikely, romantic threat.
Bellatrix widened her gray eyes slightly.
'Eiikkkk,' Bellatrix said inwardly, a massive shiver running straight down her spine. 'My god, he is so intensely intimidating when he looks at me like that! So deeply possessive. Sooooo obsessive towards me!'
Instead of being scared, the dark, possessive energy he radiated made her heart race with intense, thrilling validation. She loved knowing that a dangerous man like him was fiercely protective of her attention.
Bellatrix cleared her throat softly, hiding her blush.
"Cough. You really shouldn't worry about it at all, Max," Bellatrix reassured him, reaching out to tap the back of his hand. "I bet that nice old person was just purely happy he saw a fellow German native in his shop. After all, as far as I know from local rumors, only his wife and him are full Germans living in this entire specific neighborhood. And also, even if he really did try to weirdly flirt with me... you shouldn't worry, alright? Because there is absolutely no way in hell I would ever look at another guy when I have you."
Bellatrix finished her reassurance and smiled sweetly at him, offering a cute, playful "teehee" to lighten the heavy mood.
Max nodded his head slowly, the cold, possessive edge leaving his amber eyes. He smiled a genuine smile, deeply glad to hear her say those exact words to reassure his paranoid mind.
Because this specific, intense possessiveness of his, and the burning anger he felt even when a harmless stranger tried to chat with the woman he loved? He knew exactly where he got it from. He got this dark, protective trait directly from his own dad.
His dad's real name was Dietrich Hoffman. He was Max's father. As far as Max could vividly remember from when he was just a very young boy, his father was a tall, imposing man who had dark violet hair and piercing, glowing amber eyes. Max had genetically inherited the exact same striking color of those amber eyes from him. Meanwhile, he got his amber-colored hair from his beautiful mother, who possessed bright amber hair and deep blue eyes.
His father wasn't a normal man. Before he decided to officially retire and choose to live a quiet life with his mother and raise him, Dietrich Hoffman was universally known as a former Top 10 World's Worst Killer in the global criminal underground.
Max let out a low, nostalgic laugh in his mind. He vividly remembered a specific incident from his early childhood. His terrifying father had nearly beaten a foolish, arrogant man to death in a grocery store simply because the man had tried to aggressively flirt with his mom. His father had pinned the bleeding man to the floor and casually threatened him, stating that if he ever came back to their neighborhood, he would literally cut off his balls with a dull knife.
But the real question that often haunted Max was: how did he actually know the deeply hidden, classified details of his father's true criminal identity? His parents had never told him the truth while they were alive.
The answer lay in the dark web. Years later, when Max was fully grown and actively working as a highly feared hitman himself, the Information Maester had called him on a secure line. The old broker had dug deep into the classified archives and finally told him both of his dad's and his mom's highly restricted past identities.
The truth had been staggering.
His mom, named Arkeninna D. Hoffman, was not a simple housewife. She was a legendary, highly decorated former triple agent who had simultaneously worked deep cover for the intelligence agencies of Germany, the USA, and Russia during the height of global tensions. Later on, after she finally retired from the deadly stress of being a triple agent, she had taken a quiet, local job and became a private detective.
While his father, Dietrich, was a highly prolific serial killer who eventually transitioned into working as a high-end corporate mercenary.
Both of his parents were massive, big-time people in the dangerous world of espionage and murder. And yet, despite all their lethal skills and paranoid precautions, they were both brutally murdered in their own home by an unknown teenage girl, exactly as the Information Maester had painfully confirmed to him years later.
Max sat at the bakery table, staring blankly at the wooden grain. He didn't bother to share what happened at that specific time in his childhood with Bellatrix. The memory of the blood on the floor and the teenage girl's mocking smile was too dark for a sunny afternoon date.
Max sighed deeply inwardly, forcing himself to snap back to reality.
'I really shouldn't be sitting here remembering my dead parents right now,' Max mentally scolded himself, gripping the edge of the table. 'That's right, Max! Focus! Focus on the present! This is your highly anticipated first date with Bell. So, you should only focus your attention on her, and give her a date experience so wonderful and normal that she will be completely satisfied with it.'
Max cleared his throat, pushing the ghosts back into the dark vault of his mind. He then picked the leather menu back up and looked down at the printed pages. He flipped past the savory options and started to read closely on the large pastry section.
For two quiet minutes, the only sound at the table was the soft rustle of the thick paper pages turning. Max finally found exactly what he thought they should order to share.
He closed the menu, raised his hand slightly, and politely called the old man back over to their table.
"Umm, excuse me, sir," Max said smoothly as the baker approached with a notepad. "I want to order a slice of the Prinzregenten Torte, one of the classic German Chocolate Bars, a slice of the layered German Chocolate Cake, and a pair of the large Bavarian Pretzels. And for the pretzels, I want the hot cheese dip on the side, please."
The old person nodded his head, his pen scratching rapidly across the small notepad. He then looked up and repeated exactly what Max had said to ensure perfect accuracy.
"All right, let me confirm. What you want to order, sir, is: one slice of Prinzregenten Torte, one German Chocolate Bar, one slice of German Chocolate Cake, and two Bavarian Pretzels, but specifically with the cheese dip on the side. Is that all correct?"
Max offered a polite, warm smile and nodded his head to confirm the large order.
The old person then turned his attention to Bellatrix, pen ready. "So, what exactly do you want to order today, Miss Bellatrix?"
"Umm…" Bellatrix murmured, reaching up to tap her chin thoughtfully as she looked at the glass display case across the room. She thought for a few seconds and then responded.
"I'll take a large slice of the Donauwelle, a box of the Linzer Flowers, and honestly, I want the exact same German chocolate pastries that my boyfriend just ordered."
The old man nodded his head with a knowing smile. He wrote the additions down and then repeated what she had requested.
"Alright, what you want, miss, is: one slice of Donauwelle, one box of Linzer Flowers, an additional German Chocolate bar, and lastly, an additional slice of the German Chocolate Cake. Is that all correct for your side?"
Bellatrix smiled brightly, happy with her massive sugar order. She nodded her head firmly and replied in her native tongue.
"Ja." (Yes.)
The old man smiled warmly at both of them, closing his small notepad and tucking it into his white apron.
"All right, perfect," the old man said kindly. "Can you two please wait for a short while, and I will personally prepare and distribute your orders to your table later on."
Both Max and Bellatrix nodded their heads politely and said a synchronized "thanks" to the old man as he walked back toward the busy kitchen area.
Max leaned back in his wooden chair, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.
"It seems we're gonna have to wait for a little while before the food comes," Max said, relaxing his posture.
Bellatrix nodded her head in agreement.
Then, completely hidden by the long tablecloth draping over their table, she subtly reached down and slipped the back of her sensible low heels off her feet.
A moment later, Max widened his amber eyes. His breath hitched in his throat.
He felt something soft, warm, and highly deliberate slowly slide up his calf. Someone under the table was gently, suggestively touching his crotch with their foot.
When he immediately looked across the table at Bellatrix, she was resting her chin on her hands. She offered him a highly seductive, wicked smile, entirely contrasting the innocent, sunny atmosphere of the bakery.
"Bell," Max warned, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper that only she could hear. "What did I explicitly say to you earlier this morning about pacing yourself?"
Bellatrix kept the seductive smile for a second longer, testing the waters. But seeing the firm, unyielding warning flashing in his dark amber eyes, she slowly retracted her foot, pulling her leg clad in the sheer black stocking back to her own side of the table.
She let out a dramatic, put-upon sigh.
"Fine, fine," Bellatrix whispered back, playfully rolling her gray eyes. "I'll try my hardest to resist this time." She said it as if she were giving up a massive, difficult battle.
Max sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.
"Thank you for your restraint," Max muttered dryly, though a small smirk betrayed his actual amusement.
He reached his hand across the small wooden table. He gently, firmly wrapped his large fingers around her smaller hand, holding it securely.
"I promise you, alright?" Max said, his voice softening into genuine affection. "After we successfully complete three proper, normal dates... we can absolutely do it again. I promise."
He gently squeezed her hand to emphasize his point.
"So, please, just try your absolute hardest to resist your primal urges in public until then, alright?" Max pleaded with a warm, genuine laugh.
Bellatrix looked at his strong hand holding hers. She reluctantly nodded her head, accepting the harsh terms of their dating agreement.
"Yeah, daddy," Bellatrix whispered, a final, wicked tease slipping past her lips.
Max let out a long, heavy sigh as he heard the specific kink word "daddy" used in the middle of a wholesome German bakery. He just squeezed her hand one more time, replying softly as he completely gave up trying to fully understand or control her wildly unpredictable, highly chaotic antics.
"Thank you."