The Silent Agreement

Around twenty minutes passed before the massive wooden hot tub reached the perfect temperature. It sat upstairs in a secluded bathhouse, tucked behind thick stone walls and heavy velvet curtains—invitation only. Most people in the city didn't even know it existed. Those who did? They knew better than to talk.

It was Klaus's private sanctuary. A place of steam and silence. Why the old man owned such a luxurious, hidden bathhouse was anyone's guess—but no one dared to ask. He never explained, and his eyes warned off curiosity better than any blade.

Still… rumors have a way of bubbling to the surface.

From time to time, people whispered of strange sounds drifting from the bathhouse late at night. Muffled moans. Soft gasps. Wet slaps. The rhythm of bodies moving in unison. The kind of noises that made wives blush and husbands glance away.

Whatever Klaus had built that place for, it clearly did more than just wash off dirt.