TK

No one said Tom Kaulitz was born dangerous. They simply learned that by the time the city started whispering his name, because fear traveled faster than facts. Men who crossed him disappeared from conversations as quickly as they disappeared from the streets of New York, and rivals lowered their voices whenever he walked into a room. Cold, unreadable, and almost incapable of feeling anything resembling guilt, Tom ruled his empire with ruthless precision—until her. Somehow, without permission or warning, she became the only person capable of pulling emotion from a man who barely believed he possessed any, and the realization clawed at him with a violence no enemy ever had. He couldn’t understand why the sound of her laughter lingered in his head, why the thought of someone else touching her made something savage awaken inside him, or why losing control over her mattered more than losing control over the city itself.