Soulbound

DARK PAST

"What is this, a social club?!"

The entire floor went dead quiet.

Ms. Cindy stood at the end of the hallway, holding a thick stack of folders. Her sharp face was twisted into its usual sneer, her dark heels clicking loudly against the tile as she marched straight toward Alia's cubicle.

Abby quickly scurried back to her desk, shooting Alia an apologetic, warning glance. Tyrone stood by the water cooler, his easygoing smile instantly fading into a cool, watchful calm.

"Alia!" Ms. Cindy slammed the heavy pile of documents onto Alia's desk, making the computer monitor shake and scaring Alia so badly she jumped in her seat.

"Y-Yes, Ms. Cindy?" Alia stammered, frantically sitting up straight and trying her best to hide her flushed face.

"Don't 'yes, Ms. Cindy' me," Cindy snapped loudly, crossing her arms and looking down her nose at her. "The preliminary launch strategy for the celebrity campaign was supposed to be on my desk ten minutes ago! Why are you sitting here slacking off and day-dreaming?"

"I was just finishing the final summary—"

"I don't want excuses, I want results!" Cindy cut her off sharply, her voice ringing out across the quiet office. "You think just because you got assigned to lead this project, you can get lazy? You are completely replaceable, Alia. If you mess this up, I will personally see to it that you are demoted back to filing papers!"

Alia bit her lower lip hard, her hands tightening in her lap. The lingering warmth and happiness from the weekend instantly dissolved, replaced by that familiar, suffocating knot of stress in her chest. She looked down at her desk, unable to say a word.

From across the room, the glass door of the Executive Office slowly glided open.

Aidan stepped out into the main workspace.

The temperature around the marketing cubicles seemed to drop by five degrees in an instant. The heavy, intimidating presence he carried as Executive Director washed over the room, instantly shutting down every whispered conversation.

Aidan didn't walk fast, but every step was measured, calm, and absolute. His cold, dark eyes were locked directly onto Ms. Cindy.

"Is there a problem here, Ms. Cindy?" Aidan's deep, smooth voice echoed through the silent office, carrying a quiet edge that made everyone freeze.

Ms. Cindy's angry expression instantly faltered. She quickly turned around, adjusting her jacket and pasting on a tight, overly polite smile. "Oh! Director Aidan! No problem at all. I was just... reminding Alia about her deadlines. You know how important this celebrity campaign is, and I want to make sure she doesn't slip up."

Aidan stopped a few feet away, his towering frame casting a long shadow over Cindy's desk. He didn't look at Cindy; his eyes briefly flicked down to Alia, noticing the tense posture and the slight tremble in her hands. A dark, protective flicker passed through his eyes.

"Alia's project timeline was adjusted and approved by my office directly this morning," Aidan stated calmly, his voice flat and unyielding. "Her deadline is at five o'clock today, not ten minutes ago."

Cindy blinked, taken aback. "I... I see. Well, as her direct manager, I just wanted—"

"As her manager, your responsibility is to support her work, not disrupt the floor with shouting," Aidan cut her off, his voice dropping an octave lower. "If you have concerns about employee productivity, my door is always open. Otherwise, let her work in peace."

The entire marketing team held their breath. No one had ever seen Director Aidan shut down Ms. Cindy so directly in front of the entire office.

Cindy's face flushed red with pure humiliation. Her jaw twitched, but she knew better than to argue with the Executive Director. "Of course, Director Aidan," she muttered, her voice tight. "My apologies."

She shot Alia a sharp, bitter glare before turning on her heel and marching back to her office, slamming her door shut behind her.

Silence settled over the cubicles.

Aidan stood by Alia's desk for a moment longer. The cold, harsh aura he had projected toward Cindy instantly softened as he turned to look down at Alia.

Alia looked up at him, her wide, brown eyes filled with a mix of shock, relief, and deep gratitude.

Aidan didn't mention the shower, the polo shirt, or the kiss. He simply tucked one hand into his pocket, his expression calm and steady.

"Take your time with the report, Alia," he said softly, his voice meant only for her ears. "And remember what I told you this weekend."

No work, no Cindy, and no stress.

Alia felt a small, genuine smile tug at her lips despite the lingering embarrassment. "Thank you, Mr.—I mean, Director Aidan."

Aidan gave her a single, almost imperceptible nod before turning and walking back toward his office.

As he passed Tyrone, his assistant leaned in close and whispered under his breath, "Nice save, boss. Very subtle."

Aidan didn't answer, but as he closed his office door behind him, he let out a quiet breath, his heart giving another strange, warm thump against his ribs.

Across the room, Abby leaned over Alia's cubicle, fanning herself with a folder. "Okay," Abby gasped in a harsh whisper. "I officially take back everything bad I ever said about corporate bosses. That was hot."

Alia hid her face in her hands again, but this time, she couldn't stop the huge, unstoppable smile spreading across her face.

Aidan called Tyrone and Daico back into his office to get an update on their secret assignment.

"Any updates on the investigation?" Aidan asked, turning to Daico first.

"Actually, we've started finding some very strange things..." Daico said. He held up his laptop and turned the screen so Aidan could see it. "First, about that dog. We searched everywhere, but there is zero information about him or where he came from. He doesn't have a single record or name anywhere."

Daico pressed a key on his keyboard to pull up another document. "Second, I spoke with the plumber who came to fix your shower valve this morning. He said he couldn't find anything wrong with it. It wasn't broken or faulty to begin with."

Aidan stared at the screen, his dark eyes narrowing as a cold feeling washed over him.

Before he could say anything, Tyrone raised his hand nervously. "Umm... boss? Alexander just messaged me. He wants to see us right now."

he three of them answered the summons without delay. In a blink, the air around them shifted, and they teleported straight from Aidan's office into Alexander's vast, dimly lit room.

Alexander stood right in front of his grand wooden desk, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His posture was rigid, and his sharp, stern gaze landed on the three reapers the moment they appeared.

The room felt unnaturally cold, heavy with a tense, suffocating pressure.

"You took your time," Alexander said, his low voice echoing off the tall walls. His eyes flicked from Tyrone to Daico, before finally settling on Aidan with a sharp, piercing look. "I assume you know why I brought you here."

Alexander casually flicked his finger. With a low hum, a giant, floating glass monitor appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the room. On the screen was a paused video—crisp, clear, and taken straight from the fabric of time.

It was the view from inside Aidan's bathroom last night.

Tyrone and Daico's eyes instantly went wide. They had only heard the story from Aidan, but seeing it right in front of them on a giant screen was completely different.

Alexander pressed his hand against the air, and the video played.

The three reapers watched as the cold water sprayed everywhere, soaking Alia through Aidan's oversized polo. They saw Aidan burst inside, twist the valve, and wrap the towel around her shivering shoulders. Then came the sudden slide across the wet tile, Aidan shielding her head with his hand, and the two of them colliding in a soft, quiet kiss on the floor.

Tyrone was smiling from ear to ear, practically bouncing on his heels as he watched the whole thing play out like a high-budget romance movie. Beside him, Daico leaned in closer, his usual stoic face completely glued to the floating monitor.

Aidan, meanwhile, felt a deep heat rush up his neck, his jaw clenching tight as sheer annoyance washed over him. His dark eyes darted sideways, shooting a lethal glare at Tyrone, whose grin only grew wider.

"Is this a joke to you, Alexander?" Aidan asked, his voice dripping with cool irritation as he tried his best to stay composed.

Alexander paused the screen right at the exact moment their lips met. He turned around slowly, his stern expression completely unreadable as he looked at Aidan.

"Does this look like a joke, Director?" Alexander said, his low voice cutting right through Tyrone's suppressed giggles. "I didn't give you the job of investigating the incident of ledger glitching just to fall in love with a human, Aidan," Alexander said, his voice cold and stern. "You know these feelings of yours are not allowed in our world, right?"

"I'm not in love with her, Alexander," Aidan replied immediately, his tone firm, though his eyes flicked away for a fraction of a second.

"Wait..." Daico interrupted, stepping forward toward where the monitor had been. "Can you play it again?" He pointed to the empty air where the video had played.

Alexander raised an eyebrow, but with a silent wave of his hand, the giant monitor flickered back to life, resetting the bathroom footage.

As the video played, Daico kept his eyes glued to the top corner of the screen.

"Pause!" Daico shouted suddenly.

Alexander froze the footage.

"Did you guys see that?" Daico asked, pointing right at the metal shower handle. "Look at the valve. Watch it right before Alia turns around."

Aidan stepped closer, his jaw tightening. "Play it in slow speed."

Alexander flicked his fingers, rewinding the tape a few seconds and replaying it at a fraction of normal speed.

They all watched in dead silence. On the screen, Alia was simply standing by the sink, completely out of reach of the shower. But in the background, the metal valve didn't just leak—it slowly, deliberately twisted open all on its own, as if an invisible hand had yanked it hard to burst the cold water straight over her.

Tyrone gasped, leaning in so close his nose almost touched the floating display. "Whoa... she didn't turn that on. Someone turned it on for her!"

"It was controlled," Aidan said softly, a dark, dangerous spark igniting in his eyes. The realization hit him like a physical blow: it wasn't a glitch, and it wasn't his power leaking out.

Someone inside or outside their realm was actively targeting Alia.

Alexander's stern expression darkened, his gaze shifting from the screen to Aidan. "It seems we have a bigger problem than just a leaking ledger, Director. Someone wanted her soaked, cold, and vulnerable... or perhaps," Alexander added, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper, "someone wanted to force you into acting."

"You guys go back to the office. Alia might need you there," Aidan said, his voice laced with a dark, sharp edge before he vanished into thin air.

In the next second, Aidan materialized back inside their quiet house across the street from Alia's building.

From a dog with zero history or record in any registry, to a shower valve turning itself on to drench Alia... what a coincidence, right? Every strange event was far too calculated to be a simple glitch in the universe.

"Hey," Aidan called out, his eyes scanning the empty living room. "Come here."

No bark came in response. No soft pitter-patter of paws against the wooden floorboards.

Aidan walked out toward the backyard where Tyrone and Daico had set up the wooden dog house over the weekend. He stepped onto the porch and looked down.

The dog house was completely empty. The food and water bowls sat untouched on the grass.

A heavy, uneasy feeling settled in Aidan's chest. He searched every corner of the house—checking the kitchen, the hallway, and even upstairs in the empty bedrooms—but there was no trace of the Golden Retriever anywhere.

Aidan's phone buzzed violently in his palm, breaking the heavy silence of the empty house. He clicked the call button and pressed the phone to his ear.

"You need to get back here. Alia is in trouble," Tyrone's voice came through, fast, breathless, and entirely devoid of his usual playful tone.

Alia stood inside Cindy's office with her head held low, quietly taking the sharp, angry words being thrown at her.

The glass door opened, and Aidan stepped into the room. His cool, calm presence instantly cut through the heavy air.

"May I know what really happened?" Aidan asked, looking directly at Cindy.

"The celebrity cancelled the project!" Cindy snapped, holding her arms tight across her chest. "Apparently, this celebrity isn't a fan of a family wrecker. She found out that Alia has a bad history, so she cancelled everything. Look..."

Cindy pulled out her tablet and shoved it toward Aidan, showing him an old tabloid article about a mistress working at a cosmetic company.

Aidan took a quick look at the screen. "The article was three years ago," he said calmly, setting the tablet back down. He turned his deep gaze to Alia. "Is this proven to be true?"

He didn't care about the gossip. He wanted to hear the truth straight from her.

"No," Alia answered softly. "Three years ago, I was doing well at my job with my manager. I was promised a sure promotion, but then this article came out and ruined everything."

Alia kept her eyes glued to the floor, tears welling up in her eyes. What was supposed to be a mistake from the past was still haunting her three years later, no matter how hard she tried to move on.

Aidan looked at the tear falling down her cheek, feeling a sharp twist of anger in his chest. He turned his cold gaze back to Cindy.

"I will investigate this myself, and I will make sure the real culprit pays for this," Aidan said, his voice flat and unyielding.

He then turned back to Alia, his tone softening just a bit. "You, come to my office."

Inside Aidan's office, the heavy silence felt almost suffocating. Alia stood near his grand mahogany desk, her tears finally stopped, but her pulse was still racing. She could feel the intense, dark energy radiating off Aidan—a cold, sharp anger that made the air in the room feel uncomfortably thick.

He wasn't just annoyed. He was genuinely furious.

Aidan stood by the large glass window with his back turned to her, his hands tucked deep into his pockets. After a long, tense moment, he turned around slowly. His dark eyes locked onto hers with a fierce, piercing intensity.

"Can you fight?" Aidan asked suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.

Alia blinked, startled by the sudden question. "W-What do you mean?"

Aidan took a slow step toward her, his jaw tightly clenched. The cold, logical Grim Reaper who usually kept every emotion locked away was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a man bursting with pure frustration.

"Are you just going to let them treat you that way?" Aidan said, his tone sharp and unyielding. "Are you just going to cry because you feel wronged? Can't you fight for yourself? Are you a coward?"

The harsh words echoed off the glass walls, ringing loudly in Alia's ears.

She stood frozen for a second, her mind struggling to process the sudden attack. The fear and sadness she had felt inside Cindy's office instantly vanished, replaced by a sudden, fiery spark of shock.

Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, her chest rising and falling as her own anger finally flared to life.

"I am not a coward!" Alia snapped back, stepping closer to his desk and looking him right in the eye. "You think I wanted to just stand there? You think I like being treated like a doormat?!"

Aidan didn't flinch. Instead, a faint, almost invisible flicker of satisfaction passed through his eyes as he watched her push back. He rested both hands on the edge of his desk, leaning in slightly toward her.

"Then show it," Aidan demanded softly, his voice dropping into a low, challenging whisper. "Stop hiding behind your tears and stop letting people walk all over you. If you didn't do it, act like it. Force them to listen."

Alia stared at him, her breath hitching. She expected him to scold her, to pity her, or to tell her to stay quiet while he handled it. But he didn't want to save a weak victim—he wanted her to stand up and reclaim her own strength.

The anger in Aidan's eyes wasn't directed at her weakness. It was frustration that she was letting lesser people crush her bright, beautiful spirit.

Again, tears began to flow down her cheeks, hot and silent.

Alia wasn't mad at Aidan. She knew he was only telling her the hard, honest truth—a truth she had been running away from for three long years. Hearing it spoken so directly made her realize just how much she had been letting people walk all over her, hiding behind her tears instead of standing her ground. The sudden weight of that realization completely broke her down.

Aidan stared at her, watching the tears stream down her face once more. The sharp anger in his chest instantly vanished, replaced by a sudden, stinging regret. He realized he had let his frustration get the better of him and pushed her too far.

"You can go now," Aidan said softly, his voice dropping into a calm, gentle tone.

Alia didn't say another word. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, turned around, and quickly walked out of his office.

As she pushed open the glass doors, tears were still streaming down her face. She rushed straight past the hallway, completely ignoring her surroundings.

Tyrone and Daico were standing near the copy machine, holding a stack of files. The moment they saw Alia crying, both of them froze in shock.

The two went straight into Aidan's office, eager to check on the situation.

When they stepped inside, they saw Aidan focused on his laptop, his fingers moving fast across the keyboard as he buried his frustration in work.

"Boss, is Alia okay?" Tyrone asked, leaning his hands on the edge of the desk with a worried frown. "She just ran out of here in tears."

"She's okay. She will be," Aidan responded smoothly, not taking his eyes off the glowing screen. He took a brief pause, his dark eyes narrowing as his focus shifted back to the problem at hand. "I have a job for you two. Tyrone, find out the current location of the celebrity for our campaign. We need a face-to-face meeting."

He then looked up, his gaze locking onto his second assistant. "And Daico, investigate the article. Trace where that three-year-old story was republished from and find out who leaked it to the client's manager today."



Daico gave a single, firm nod. "Consider it done, Director."