Page 31 of The Heart of Winter

"Okay. Cool. My bad," I muttered.

"And what’s with the T-shirts? Some other sneaky way of doing what you did on the first day, but in a less obvious manner?"

My breath just didn’t want to leave my lungs for a second. The guy was good, seriously. It could’ve really been what he suggested, some way of ridiculing our interactions, making them a caricature. Kinda insolent, if you think about it.

"Excuse me, but what I wear on my body is my private choice, one I don’t need to justify to anyone—"

"And that’s exactly my point. Kind of sneaky. But did you know there’s actually a dress code at DevApp? Maybe I should enforce it?"

I froze. Fuck, could he actually do it? My breath left my lungs with an oddly heavy effort.

"Killing me in the one way my father didn’t manage to? Yeah, go ahead."

I gave him a nod and headed for the exit. I wasn’t such a masochist that I’d keep that conversation going. It felt like impaling myself on an icicle.

WINTER

I stood there for a moment, watching Sariel’s silhouette as he walked away. He headed toward his car, moving slowly, his head slightly lowered. His entire posture looked… downcast. He got in and drove off, unaware that my eyes were still following him.

A deep breath, then a slow, deliberate exhale, and I felt calmer. I wasn’t sure what Sariel was trying to achieve here, but from the very first day, I’d sensed something unusual about him, a strange kind of rebellious energy, and a peculiar attention focused on me that went beyond what was appropriate for a regular employee.

Starting with his little smirks during our first conversation, then volunteering to help with my car, offering me a ride… and, last but not least, the strange manga drawings printed on his T-shirts. Clearly, they were a mockery of how I looked and a satire of our interactions.

There was something intangible about him, a kind of energy that annoyed more than I was willing to admit.

Normally, I wasn’t easy to rattle, though I’ll admit, it took effort to keep it that way. I had learned to suppress any stronger, more spontaneous reactions.

Not many knew that, but my natural temperament wasn’t as composed and stoic as I presented to the world, I was far more intense beneath the surface, but I made sure it never boiled over too quickly. I knew that in a leadership position, any sign of instability could hurt morale and reduce employee productivity. Over the years, I’d built a reputation in this company as someone who always kept a cool head and could handle chaotic situations. I always had a plan, always had a process. I led my team steadily and systematically toward the goal. That’s what brought us the most success.

But this kid… from day one, he had already chipped away at that barrier of meticulously constructed stoicism I’d built around myself. And I had no idea how to respond to that.

When I’d lashed out at him on the very first day he came into my office, he got a reaction out of me no one else had ever managed to see in this company. And that was… almost fascinating.

Was he doing it on purpose? Trying to provoke me? Or was it just part of his nature? After all, Jacob had always said Sariel had a rebellious spirit.

"Everything all right?"

Not a flinch. I was trained enough in self-control that the sound of my boss’s voice, suddenly behind me, didn’t even graze my composure.

Unhurriedly, I turned around with a neutral expression. Jacob stood there, eyebrows slightly raised, giving me a questioning look.

A small, vague gesture was enough to let him know it was nothing serious. "Car troubles," I said in a light tone. "I’m waiting for an Uber, but it’s running late."

"Heading home or do you have errands to run?"

"Home."

"Perfect. I’m driving past your place, I’ll give you a ride. Let’s go."

Jacob’s tone wasn’t one that tolerated objections. When he said something, that’s just how it was going to be. Even though I had a lot of independence in this company, I never forgot who was in charge.

"Sure, thanks, if it’s not a problem. I’ll cancel the Uber."

A moment later, we left the building together, the glass doors sliding shut behind us. The wind and rain hit our faces, but Jacob’s perfectly styled dark hair didn’t budge an inch. Neither did mine.

There was a certain similarity between the two of us, something we both instinctively felt.

He’d liked me from my very first day at DevApp, back when I was still a freshman intern. He appreciated my work ethic and respected my opinions. We made a pretty solid team, and our collaboration definitely helped improve all of DevApp’s products. We pushed projects forward with shared, seamless effort.

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