Devil at work
1565 Words
“The most dangerous leaders never waste words. They let silence do the hunting.”
*~ The Draven Principle
Seraphine stared at him.
“…I’m hired?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“You’ve barely looked at my résumé.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t ask about my experience.”
“No.”
“My references?”
“I don’t need them.”
Every answer was shorter than the last.
It should have frustrated her.
Instead…
It intrigued her.
She had prepared for an interview.
What she’d just experienced felt more like being… evaluated.
For something she didn’t understand.
Caelan walked past her toward the office doors.
“Follow me.”
No congratulations.
No welcome speech.
No handshake.
Just two words.
She grabbed her folder and hurried after him.
Outside the office, Eleanor stood waiting.
Caelan handed her Seraphine’s file.
“Cancel the remaining interviews.”
Eleanor wasn’t surprised.
“Yes, sir.”
“Notify Human Resources.”
“Immediately.”
She glanced at Seraphine with the smallest smile.
“Congratulations.”
Before Seraphine could thank her, Caelan was already halfway down the corridor.
She hurried to catch up.
“Mr. Draven.”
He didn’t slow down.
“You’ll need to walk faster.”
She blinked.
“I’m wearing heels.”
“So are half the executives in this building.”
She looked down.
He wasn’t wrong.
She sighed quietly and matched his pace.
The private elevator doors slid open.
Inside waited a tall man with sandy-blond hair, sharp blue eyes, and an earpiece.
The moment he saw Caelan…
He lowered his head.
Not politely.
Respectfully.
Almost…
Reverently.
“Sir.”
Caelan stepped inside.
“Damien.”
Seraphine entered after them.
The doors closed.
Damien pressed the button for the executive conference floor.
Only then did he acknowledge her.
“So…”
His smile was warm.
“You survived.”
Seraphine laughed.
“I didn’t realize it was that dangerous.”
Damien chuckled.
“You’ll learn.”
Caelan spoke without looking up from the tablet he’d been reading.
“Damien.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Stop frightening my secretary.”
“I’m welcoming her.”
“You have an unusual definition of welcome.”
Damien raised both hands dramatically.
“I’ll work on it.”
For the first time…
Seraphine noticed the faintest twitch near the corner of Caelan’s mouth.
Not quite amusement.
But close enough to prove he wasn’t carved from marble.
Interesting.
The conference room occupied an entire floor.
Glass walls overlooked the city from every angle.
A massive black table stretched across the center.
Nearly twenty executives were already seated.
The conversations stopped the instant Caelan entered.
Everyone stood.
Not because he asked.
Because they simply…
Did.
He walked to the head of the table.
“Sit.”
They obeyed immediately.
Seraphine remained standing near the wall.
Damien leaned toward her.
“Watch carefully.”
“Why?”
“Your first lesson.”
A man in his fifties stood and connected his laptop to the presentation screen.
“Good morning, Mr. Draven.”
Caelan nodded once.
“You have ten minutes.”
The presentation began.
“Our Singapore expansion has exceeded projections by twelve percent…”
Charts appeared.
Revenue graphs.
Projected acquisitions.
Market forecasts.
The executive spoke confidently.
Almost proudly.
Exactly four minutes into the presentation…
Caelan interrupted.
“No.”
Silence.
The executive blinked.
“…Sir?”
“Page thirty-eight.”
The man’s smile faded.
He clicked forward.
Page thirty-eight appeared.
Caelan folded his hands.
“The operating costs.”
“What about them?”
“They’re incorrect.”
The executive adjusted his glasses.
“I assure you, Finance confirmed every figure.”
“No.”
“We triple-checked—”
“No.”
His voice never rose.
Never hardened.
Yet the room somehow became colder.
Caelan looked toward another executive.
“Julia.”
A woman near the end of the table straightened.
“Yes, sir.”
“What were Singapore’s shipping costs on March seventeenth?”
She froze.
“I…”
“You don’t know.”
“No, sir.”
Caelan looked back at the presenter.
“They increased by 2.8% after the port strike.”
The man quickly checked his tablet.
His face drained of color.
“…That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“We received the revised report only this morning.”
Caelan remained silent.
The executive kept scrolling.
Then stopped.
“…It’s here.”
A whisper.
“It’s actually here.”
He looked up, completely bewildered.
“How did you memorize a report that was delivered less than an hour ago?”
Caelan answered simply.
“I read it.”
No arrogance.
No pride.
Just fact.
Around the table…
No one looked surprised.
Apparently…
This happened often.
The meeting continued.
Every few minutes, Caelan corrected another tiny detail.
A misplaced decimal.
A delayed shipment.
A supplier whose contract would expire in eleven months.
He knew everything.
Not approximately.
Exactly.
Seraphine found herself watching the executives instead of him.
None of them questioned him.
Not once.
Not because they were afraid to.
Because he was always right.
That was somehow even more intimidating.
The meeting ended forty minutes later.
As the executives gathered their things, one older man approached Caelan.
“Sir.”
“Edward.”
“I’d like to discuss the Zurich proposal.”
“Tomorrow.”
“It concerns the Board.”
“It can concern them tomorrow.”
Edward hesitated.
“…The Council won’t be pleased.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
The room changed.
Not visibly.
Subtly.
Several executives looked away.
Damien became very still.
Caelan met Edward’s gaze.
For three long seconds.
Then…
“They rarely are.”
Edward lowered his head.
“My apologies.”
He walked away without another word.
Seraphine frowned.
Council.
There was that word again.
What council?
As they left the conference room, Seraphine finally asked.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
She rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.
Damien laughed loudly.
Caelan looked at her.
Not offended.
Merely…
Interested.
She cleared her throat.
“The Council.”
“What about it?”
“I’ve heard the name twice today.”
“And?”
“I don’t understand what it is.”
“You aren’t supposed to.”
That answer only deepened her curiosity.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Eleanor.
URGENT.
Please bring the black file from Mr. Draven’s office to Conference Room Seven immediately.
She looked up.
“I’ll be right back.”
Caelan nodded once.
She hurried toward the private elevator.
Five minutes later…
She was carrying a thick black file tucked beneath her arm.
She glanced down the hallway.
Conference Room Seven.
Left.
Or…
Was it right?
She frowned.
“I’m sure it was…”
A cleaner pushed a cart past her.
Embarrassed to ask, she chose the left corridor.
Big mistake.
The hallway grew quieter.
Then…
Empty.
The polished marble floor gave way to dark stone.
The modern paintings disappeared.
Instead…
Ancient carvings covered the walls.
Wolves.
Moons.
Crowns.
She slowed.
“What…”
This wasn’t the executive floor anymore.
There were no office numbers.
No employees.
Only silence.
At the end of the corridor stood another elevator.
Unlike every other elevator in the building…
It had no buttons.
Only a silver crest.
The same wolf beneath the crescent moon.
A low voice echoed from somewhere beyond the wall.
“…she cannot remain here.”
Another answered.
“The Sovereign has already decided.”
“Then the Sovereign is risking everything.”
Seraphine’s breath caught.
The Sovereign?
A third voice.
Deep.
Older.
“If the human discovers us before the Blood Moon…”
Silence.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
The human?
Who are they talking about?
Instinct told her to leave.
Curiosity rooted her to the floor.
She took one cautious step closer.
Then another.
The voices became clearer.
“…the First Law cannot be broken.”
“It has stood for eight hundred years.”
“And if the Sovereign refuses?”
A long silence followed.
Finally…
One sentence.
Cold enough to freeze the air.
“Then we remove the Sovereign.”
Seraphine’s eyes widened.
She stumbled backward.
The file slipped from her hands.
It struck the stone floor with a sharp crack.
The voices stopped.
Every single one.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
A shadow stretched across the floor behind her.
She wasn’t alone anymore.
Caelan’s voice comes from behind her. A calm familiar voice
“Miss Vale…”
She turns.
He’s standing there.
Calm.
Almost too calm.
Instead of yelling, he simply says,
“Pick up the file.”
She obeys.
Then the stone doors behind him slowly open.
Seven men emerge.
Each in black suits.
Each wearing the silver wolf ring.
Each radiating authority.
The oldest steps forward.
His gaze lands on Seraphine.
His expression hardens.
”…A human.”
Another elder asks quietly,
“How much did she hear?”
Caelan answers,
“Enough.”
The oldest closes his eyes.
Almost regretfully.
“Then the First Law leaves us no choice.”
Seraphine frowns.
“…First Law?”
The elder looks directly at her.
“No human may leave with knowledge of our existence.”
Her smile disappears.
“…What?”
Another elder says coldly,
“She must die.”
- Writer
