His Cold Heart, My Fiery Soul

Delphine had barely taken three steps into the lobby when a voice cut cleanly through the air, stopping her without effort. “You’re late.” The words were not loud, but they carried enough authority to silence the movement around them. She turned immediately, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag as her eyes landed on him. “I’m not,” she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden tension pressing against her chest. “My reporting time is eight, and I’m exactly on time.” The man didn’t react, his gaze moving over her slowly before returning to her face.

“Walking in on time doesn’t mean you’re ready,” he said. “And here, that makes you late.

Delphine held his gaze, refusing to let the weight of it push her back. “Then maybe the problem isn’t my timing,” she said carefully, “but your definition.” A faint shift passed through his expression, subtle but noticeable. “You’re already arguing,” he said. “Not arguing,” she corrected. “Clarifying.” The receptionist behind the desk shifted uncomfortably before murmuring, “That’s Wilson Dan.” The name settled heavily, but Delphine didn’t look away. Instead, she exhaled softly.

“Then I expected better than a vague accusation,” she said.

Wilson stepped closer, just enough to make the space between them feel deliberate. “You walked in without observing the room,” he said. “Without acknowledging anyone. Without understanding where you are.” Delphine tilted her head slightly. “I walked in to report for work,” she replied. “Not to perform.” His eyes narrowed just slightly, not in anger, but in interest. “That’s your mistake,” he said. “Everything here is performance.” She didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll make sure mine is worth watching,” she said.

A brief silence followed, but it wasn’t empty. It stretched, charged with something unspoken as a few staff slowed just enough to listen. Wilson’s gaze lingered on her longer this time, measuring, testing. “Confidence on your first day usually doesn’t last,” he said. Delphine adjusted her grip on her bag, her voice quieter but firmer. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t come here as usual,” she replied. That made something shift again, small but real.

Wilson turned without warning, already walking toward the inner office. “Follow me,” he said. Delphine hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping after him. “You always start conversations like that?” she asked. “Only when I don’t have time for polite ones,” he replied. She quickened her pace slightly. “Or when you want to unsettle people,” she added. He didn’t slow down. “If that unsettles you, you won’t last here,” he said. Delphine let out a quiet breath. “Then it’s a good thing it doesn’t,” she replied.

They reached the main office, and Wilson stopped abruptly, causing her to halt just behind him. He turned slightly, his gaze dropping to her again. “You think you’re prepared,” he said. “I know I am,” she replied. His eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary. “Then prove it,” he said, dropping a file onto the desk in front of