Marcus Aurelius once said that coveting another man’s wife is not only an act of weakness but also a betrayal of one’s own discipline. Julius understood that sentiment well enough.

Yet, he also knew that in the field of intelligence and covert operations, morality often had to be set aside for the sake of results.

There were three reasons he justified to himself.

To peer into the woman who had captured the heart of a man like Lukas Meinhardt.

In the future Julius remembered, Lukas became a monster that shook cities and left devastation in his wake. Understanding who Gisela was meant understanding the emotional foundation that served as his anchor.

If he could understand the kind of woman Lukas loved, then perhaps he could understand the weak points of the man who would one day become nearly impossible to defeat.

If Gisela spent less time at home, Lukas would be left isolated.

The home would become quieter, and in that quiet, Julius could infiltrate appropriately. It meant that when the invitation finally came, there would be fewer obstacles in the way.

Guilt.

When guilt was left to fester, it always transformed into resentment. Once Gisela believed she had committed something unforgivable, her heart would search for a reason to blame someone.

And the easiest person to blame would be her husband. If she convinced herself that Lukas had been inattentive or flawed, then she would begin to justify her actions.

In that justification, she would become more open, willing to share things that were meant to stay hidden. Sooner or later, she would speak about her marriage. Sooner or later, she would talk about the man she was trying to convince herself she no longer loved.

And when she did, the Directorate would be listening.

In the days that followed, the outcome was exactly as Julius predicted. Gisela spent less and less time at home. Her long evenings and excuses became more frequent.

At first, she was conflicted. The morning after that kiss with Klaus, Gisela had not shown up for work at all. She continuously contemplated the feeling of his breath brushing against her lips, the heat of his mouth, and the silence that followed when she finally stepped out of the car with shaking hands.

But avoiding work only created more problems. By noon, her phone had been flooded with messages from the company asking about deadlines, corrections, and tasks she alone could handle.

When she finally returned to the office days later, Klaus did not scold her. He simply looked up from his desk, regarded her expression for a moment, and spoke in that steady tone she had grown accustomed to.

"You’re late, Miss Meinhardt. I assume you found your resolve."

"Y-Yes, Director... I apologize. It will not happen again."

"It shouldn’t," he said. "We have much to prepare. Let’s begin."

He treated her as if nothing had happened, which only made her more confused. Each day afterward, he addressed her strictly at work, but whenever the two of them were alone, reviewing notes or preparing presentations, it was anything but.

And that contrast made her feel a disarming sense of being singled out. As if, among all the employees in the department, she alone occupied a space he allowed no one else to approach.

That dangerous, intoxicating feeling kept pulling her back to the office, no matter how much she tried to resist it.

She told herself she stayed late because there was work to finish. Because the project needed her. Because the investors expected perfection. Because Klaus, as the new Director, relied on her.

Yet her heart beat faster every time her phone buzzed with his name on the screen. Her hands trembled when she realized she was looking forward to seeing him again. And every evening, when she heard his footsteps approaching her cubicle, something inside her tightened with anticipation she could not explain.

As the days went on, the pattern repeated itself. She left home earlier and returned later. She missed breakfast and dinner. Missed her daughters’ chatter about their new teacher and their struggles with math.

Each time, she told herself it was temporary. Just until this project was over. Just until the company stabilized. Just until she and Klaus finished what they started.

But somewhere along the way, she stopped being certain where the work ended and where something else began.

"Company dinner?"

"Yes. After the success of our proposal, the team wanted a small get-together."

"Alright. Have fun."

"Thank you, Lukas. I’ll see you soon."

Another day passed.

"Meeting with the partners?"

"Yes. They want to finalize documentation before the month ends."

"Understood. Come home safe."

"I will."

A few more days passed.

"Working late again?"

"Just for a few hours. The director needs me to revise the drafts. It’s almost done."

"Alright."

"I’ll be back soon. Tell the girls good night for me."

But she often came home long after the girls had already fallen asleep. Lukas would still be at the table, cleaning up their textbooks or helping to organize their school bags for the next day.

At first, he understood. Work was demanding. Everyone had busy seasons. So, he said nothing and simply kept preparing dinner, helping the twins with homework, and waiting by the door whenever she worked too late.

Naturally, Lukas saw this as an opportunity as well.

If his wife returned home late every night, it meant he had more time to move without being questioned. And with the Directorate’s operatives discreetly crawling throughout Hamburg, he needed every scrap of time he could get.

The disruption they caused had thrown all his schedules off balance. Shipments he was supposed to receive and redistribute were delayed to the point of suspicion.

Income had slowed this month, and Lukas could feel the pressure. Every day the situation remained like this was another day the Revolutionary cells grew impatient, questioning his reliability.

Before he made any move, those Directorate operatives needed to be removed without a trace. Only then could he resume the work.

"Ah, yes. Please come in, Teacher Jeremy. I’ve prepared lunch if you haven’t eaten yet."

"Then don’t mind if I do, Mister Meinhardt. Thank you."

"No, no. Thank you. Because of you, the girls have seen a significant increase in their grades across all subjects. I’m truly grateful."

Under normal circumstances, he would have been cautious of someone who grew close to his children so quickly. But Julius had left him with nothing to doubt.

Every time Lukas checked their notebooks, the improvement was clear and undeniable. Julius never pushed the girls in ways that felt forced. Instead, he guided them gently, and in return, the twins adored him.

To a father like Lukas, who cared deeply but was often away, that sincerity was priceless.

Indeed, the scariest thing a person could be manipulated into was a change in perception.

You did not need to break someone physically to control them.

You only needed to change how they viewed the world.

Let them believe something new, let them doubt something old, and little by little, they would walk exactly where you wanted them to go, convinced it was their own choice.