Delphine paused at the office door before entering, gripping her bag tighter than necessary. Wilson's voice came from inside, calm but sharp, "You're five minutes late. That is not like you." She stepped in quickly, forcing a steady tone, "Traffic was heavier than usual." His eyes lifted slowly, studying her. "Or something kept you out longer than you're saying."

Delphine dropped her bag beside the desk, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest. "Are you interrogating me now?" she asked, half nervous, half defensive. Wilson leaned back slightly in his chair. "I'm assessing patterns. That's what good lawyers do." She frowned, "And what pattern do you see in me?" He didn't answer immediately, which made her more uncomfortable than words could have.

Wilson finally said, "A woman who is being followed and still insists on walking alone at night." Delphine stiffened instantly. "You don't know that," she replied quickly. He tilted his head slightly. "Then explain the message you tried to hide yesterday." Silence fell between them, heavy and immediate, as her pulse began to rise.

Delphine exhaled slowly, forcing control into her voice. "So you did see it." Wilson stood up, walking closer to her desk. "I see everything that matters in my office." She swallowed, refusing to step back even though his presence was overwhelming. "Then tell me what it means," she asked, "because I'm starting to think I walked into something bigger than a job."

Wilson stopped just beside her chair, his voice lowering. "You didn't walk into it. You were already inside it." Delphine frowned, "Inside what exactly?" He didn't answer right away, only watching her like he was deciding how much truth she could survive. Then he said quietly, "That depends on who is trying to reach you."

Delphine's phone vibrated sharply on the desk, cutting through the air between them. She hesitated before picking it up, her fingers tightening around it. Wilson didn't move, but his eyes sharpened instantly. "Open it," he said calmly. She obeyed slowly, her breath catching as she read the message.

A new message appeared with no number attached. Only five words.

"You should have listened to him."

Delphine froze. "Who is him?" she whispered. Wilson's expression didn't change, but something in his gaze hardened. "Put the phone down," he said quietly. She looked at him sharply, "No. I deserve answers." He stepped closer again, voice controlled but lower, "Not all answers are safe for you right now."

Delphine stood up abruptly, frustration breaking through her fear. "Then stop talking in riddles, Wilson. Someone is clearly targeting me." He didn't deny it. That silence alone made her stomach tighten. Instead, he said softly, "Sit down before you make a mistake you cannot undo." But she didn't move.

Delphine's voice came out sharper than she expected as she stepped closer to Wilson's desk. "So what you're saying is someone inside this building is watching me?" Wilson didn't deny it. He only replied calmly, "I'm saying someone here knows more about you than you think." She narrowed her eyes. "That sounds like a very dangerous assumption." He answered quietly, "It's not an assumption."

Delphine folded her arms tightly, trying to control her breathing. "Then tell me the truth, Wilson. Why would anyone in your firm care about me?" Wilson's gaze stayed fixed on her. "That's the part you're not ready to hear." She shook her head slightly. "I don't like being kept in the dark." He stepped closer, voice lowering, "And I don't like you being exposed."

Her pulse tightened at his words and she quickly replied, "Exposed to what exactly?" Wilson hesitated for the first time, then said slowly, "To something that started long before you walked into this office." Delphine frowned. "That's not an answer." He looked at her more directly now. "It's the only warning you need right now."

Before she could respond, her phone vibrated again on the desk. Delphine didn't move immediately. Wilson noticed. "Open it," he said quietly. She hesitated. "What if it's another threat?" Wilson replied without looking away from her, "Then I need to see it too." Slowly, she picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly.

Delphine read the message and her breath stopped for a second. "It says I shouldn't be here alone with you," she whispered. Wilson's expression didn't change, but his voice dropped lower. "That message is not wrong." She looked up instantly. "Excuse me?" He stepped slightly closer. "You heard me."

Delphine took a step back, her voice rising slightly. "So now you're part of the threat too?" Wilson shook his head once. "No. I'm part of the reason you're still safe." She frowned deeply. "That doesn't make any sense." He replied calmly, "It will when you understand who is behind this."

Delphine's breathing became uneven as she looked at him. "Why does it feel like you already know who it is?" Wilson didn't answer immediately. That silence alone made her stomach tighten. Finally, he said, "Because I've seen this pattern before." She stepped forward again. "Seen it where?"

Wilson's eyes darkened slightly. "In any case I should have never taken it." Delphine went still. "So this is about your past?" she asked carefully. He nodded once. "And now it's touching your present." She whispered, "And I'm in the middle of it." Wilson replied quietly, "Yes. And that is exactly why I told you not to ignore the messages."

Suddenly, the office lights flickered once again. Delphine turned sharply. "Did you see that?" she asked quickly. Wilson's voice became more controlled. "Yes. And it's not a coincidence." She backed away slightly. "Then what is it?" He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes shifted toward the glass door.

Delphine followed his gaze. "What are you looking at?" Wilson said quietly, "Someone is outside." Her body stiffened immediately. "Outside the office?" she asked. Wilson nodded slightly. "And they are not walking away." Her voice dropped. "How do you know that?" He answered simply, "Because I can feel them watching."

Delphine whispered, "This is insane." Wilson stepped closer to her again, voice firm now. "Stay behind me." She shook her head slightly. "I don't need protection." He looked at her directly. "This is not about what you need. It's about what you cannot survive alone."

At that exact moment, the office door handle began to move slowly from the outside. Delphine froze instantly.

"Wilson..." she whispered. He didn't move. "Don't speak," he said quietly. The handle turned again, more deliberately this time, as if whoever was outside knew they were already being watched.

Delphine's voice barely came out. "Who is it?" Wilson's answer was low, controlled, and final. "Someone who should not know I'm here with you." The handle stopped turning.

A silence fell between them, heavy and unnatural, as if even the air inside the office had stopped moving. Delphine's lips parted slightly but no words came out, because something about the atmosphere had shifted in a way she could not explain. Then, from outside the glass door, a voice broke through the stillness, soft but clear enough to freeze everything inside her chest. "Wilson... I know she's with you."

Delphine's body reacted before her mind could catch up, her fingers tightening instinctively against the edge of the desk as the words sank in. Her throat went dry instantly, and she turned her head slowly toward Wilson, searching his face for confusion or denial. But what she saw instead made her stomach drop even further, because he wasn't startled, he wasn't questioning it, he was simply still, like the voice had already reached somewhere inside him before it even spoke again.

Wilson's expression changed in a way Delphine had never seen before, not fear, not shock, but something deeper that made her breath catch without permission. "That voice..." she whispered without thinking, but Wilson didn't answer her, his gaze fixed on the door like he was measuring something only he could see. The silence that followed was no longer empty, it was loaded, like the entire room was holding its breath with them, waiting for what would come next.

Delphine forced herself to speak again, though her voice came out thinner than she intended. "Wilson... who is that?" she asked, but even as she said it, she realized he wasn't looking at the door anymore. He was looking at her. And in that moment, she understood something she didn't want to understand, because whatever was outside that door wasn't just looking for him anymore, it was looking for both of them.

And then Wilson finally spoke, but his voice was lower now, controlled, almost dangerous in its calmness. "Don't move," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off her. "Whatever happens next... stay exactly where you are."

The office had fallen into a heavy silence that felt almost unnatural, the kind of silence that made even the air feel like it was waiting for something to happen. Delphine kept her eyes on the glowing screen in front of her, fingers moving quickly over the keyboard, but her focus was slipping with every passing minute. The files around her looked endless, the pressure heavier than usual, yet she refused to stop because stopping meant falling behind, and falling behind meant failure.

“You’re still here.”

Wilson’s voice broke through the silence without warning, and Delphine’s fingers paused instantly over the keyboard. She didn’t look up immediately, forcing herself to steady her breathing before responding. “I didn’t realize it was this late,” she said, trying to keep her tone normal even though his presence alone was already affecting her focus.

His footsteps came closer, slow and deliberate, until she could feel him standing near her desk. “You always say that,” he replied quietly, his eyes moving over the scattered documents in front of her. “As if time is something you can ignore just because you want to finish work.”

Delphine finally looked up, meeting his gaze with controlled calm. “And you always act like I should stop,” she replied. “But this is my responsibility. I don’t leave things unfinished.”

Wilson studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable but sharper than usual. “That’s not responsibility,” he said quietly. “That’s self-pressure.”

She frowned slightly, refusing to be shaken. “You don’t know what I have to handle outside this office,” she said. “So don’t reduce it to something simple.”

His gaze didn’t move away from her. “I’m not reducing it,” he replied. “I’m observing it.”

The way he said it made her chest tighten slightly, though she refused to show it. “Then stop observing me like I’m one of your case files,” she said quietly.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavier than before. Wilson didn’t respond immediately, and that alone made the space between them feel more intense. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, less professional. “You think I’m watching you because of work?”

Delphine hesitated. “Aren’t you?”

Wilson stepped slightly closer, and the distance between them suddenly felt too small for comfort. “No,” he said simply. “Not tonight.”

That answer unsettled her more than she expected. She leaned back slightly in her chair, trying to regain control of her emotions. “Then why are you here?” she asked quietly. “It’s late. You don’t usually stay this long.”

His eyes stayed on her. “Because you don’t know when to stop,” he said.

“That’s not an answer,” she replied immediately.

“It is,” he said calmly. “You just don’t like it.”

Delphine turned back to her screen, forcing herself to refocus, but his presence behind her made it difficult. “I can handle myself,” she said firmly.

Wilson’s voice lowered slightly. “That’s what worries me.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy and unexpected. Delphine slowly looked back at him. “Why would that worry you?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze stayed fixed on her as if he was deciding how much truth to reveal.

“Because people who always say that,” he said quietly, “are usually the ones who never see the danger coming.”

Before she could respond, her phone vibrated sharply on the desk, cutting through the silence like a warning. Her heart tightened immediately as she picked it up.

The message was short, anonymous, and cold.

“You are not supposed to be with him right now.”

Delphine’s breath stopped as she read it again, slower this time. Her grip on the phone tightened, and when she finally lifted her eyes, Wilson was already watching her face closely.

“Who sent that?” she asked quietly.

Wilson didn’t answer immediately. His expression had changed slightly, not fear, not confusion, but something deeper and more controlled. “Show me,” he said calmly.

She hesitated for a second before turning the screen toward him.

He read the message once, then again, and the silence that followed felt heavier than anything before. His jaw tightened slightly, barely noticeable, but enough for Delphine to feel that something had shifted in him.

“Delete it,” he said finally.

Delphine frowned immediately. “Why would I delete it? Someone is threatening me.”

Wilson looked at her directly now, his voice lower and sharper. “Because whoever sent that message isn’t guessing anymore,” he said. “They know where you are.”

Delphine’s throat tightened. “Then why are you still here?” she asked.

Wilson held her gaze for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice carried something heavier than before.

“Because I already knew this was coming tonight.”

The air in the office seemed to change at that moment, as if something unseen had shifted around them. Delphine stared at him, trying to understand what he meant, but before she could speak again, the lights in the office flickered once, then twice, then held still.

And in that sudden silence, Wilson’s expression changed slightly as his eyes moved past her, toward the glass wall behind her desk.

“Don’t turn around,” he said quietly.

Delphine froze.

But it was already too late.

Because behind the glass, something had moved.

Delphine did not move immediately, even though every instinct in her body told her something was wrong. Wilson’s voice had dropped so low it barely carried through the room, yet the weight in it was enough to freeze her in place. She could feel her pulse rising as she slowly asked, “What do you mean don’t turn around?”

Wilson didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed beyond her, toward the glass wall behind her desk, his expression sharpening in a way she had never seen before. “Stay exactly where you are,” he said quietly, controlled but firm, as if one wrong movement could trigger something irreversible.

Delphine swallowed hard, forcing her voice to remain steady even though her hands had already begun to tremble slightly. “Wilson,” she whispered, “you’re starting to scare me. What is behind me?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment he didn’t speak, as if weighing whether telling her anything would make it worse. “I said don’t turn around,” he repeated, this time slower, heavier, almost protective in tone, though it carried a warning she could not ignore.

But Delphine was no longer just afraid, she was alert, every nerve in her body screaming that she was not alone. “I need to know what’s happening,” she said, her voice breaking slightly despite her attempt to stay composed. “I can’t just sit here blind.”

Wilson finally moved, stepping slightly closer behind her chair, his voice lowering even further. “Someone is outside the glass,” he said. “And they are not supposed to be able to reach this floor.”

Delphine’s breath caught sharply at those words, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk without realizing it. “Security?” she asked quickly, though her voice lacked confidence now.

Wilson didn’t respond immediately, and that silence was enough to make her stomach tighten. “Not security,” he said finally, and his tone carried something colder now. “If it was security, I wouldn’t be this calm.”

Her heart pounded harder as she slowly forced herself to whisper, “Then who is it?”

Wilson leaned slightly closer, his voice now almost only for her. “Someone who already knows your name,” he said. “And came here because of it.”

Delphine felt her throat tighten painfully. “Because of me?” she asked, barely able to believe it. “That doesn’t make sense. I don’t even know anyone like that.”

Wilson’s gaze remained locked ahead, his expression unreadable but tense. “That’s what makes it dangerous,” he replied. “Because they know you, even if you don’t know them yet.”

A silence fell again, heavier than before, as Delphine struggled to process what he was saying. Her mind raced through every possible explanation, but none of them made sense, and that only made her fear deepen. “Then what do we do?” she asked quietly.

Wilson didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shifted slightly, positioning himself closer behind her as if instinctively shielding her without touching her. “We don’t panic,” he said. “And we don’t give them what they want.”

Delphine tried to steady her breathing, but it was difficult when she could still feel the tension radiating from him. “And what do they want?” she asked.

Wilson hesitated for the first time, just briefly, before replying. “To confirm you are here,” he said. “And that you are not alone.”

The words made her stomach drop. “That means they are watching us right now,” she whispered.

Wilson didn’t deny it.

Instead, he said something that made her blood run cold.

“They’ve been watching longer than tonight.”

Delphine’s fingers went cold as silence wrapped around them again, thick and suffocating. She wanted to turn, to look, to confirm what was outside the glass, but something in Wilson’s presence kept her frozen in place, as if any movement would break something she could never repair.

Then it happened.

A faint knock came from the glass wall behind her desk, soft but deliberate, like someone acknowledging that they knew she was there.

Delphine’s breath stopped completely.

Wilson’s expression changed instantly, not fear, not shock, but something far more controlled and dangerous.

And then a voice came from the other side of the glass, calm, familiar, and completely unexpected.

“Wilson,” it said softly. “I know she’s with you.”

Delphine felt her entire body go cold at once.

Because Wilson didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

But for the first time since she had met him, his composure cracked in the smallest possible way, and she saw it clearly in his eyes.

Recognition.

And that was worse than fear.

"You're distracted."

Wilson's voice cut cleanly through the space between them, low and precise, and Delphine's fingers stilled over the document as she lifted her eyes to him. "I'm working," she replied, but the delay in her response betrayed her, and she saw it immediately in the way his gaze sharpened. He didn't look convinced. He never did when something was off. "You've read the same line three times," he added calmly. "That's not the focus. That's avoidance. So tell me... what exactly are you trying not to think about?"

Delphine exhaled slowly, forcing herself to sit straighter under the weight of his attention. "Nothing," she said, quieter this time, but he stepped closer before she could retreat behind the answer. "Don't do that," he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel personal. "Don't give me answers you don't even believe."

Her pulse shifted, uneven now, and she held his gaze a second longer than she should have. "And if I don't want to talk about it?" she asked. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did. "Then I decide whether that's acceptable," he said simply.

Her breath caught, not at the words themselves, but at how easily he said them. "You don't get to decide that," she replied, more firmly now, but he didn't move away. If anything, the distance between them felt smaller. "No?" he asked, almost quietly. "Then explain why your hands are tense, your focus is gone, and you've been watching my office door all morning like you're waiting for something to happen." Delphine's chest tightened. "Maybe I am," she said before she could stop herself. That made him pause. Just for a second. "Then tell me what you're expecting," he said.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "It's nothing concrete," she admitted, her voice lowering. "Just... a feeling." Wilson studied her closely, the silence stretching just enough to make her aware of every second. "You don't strike me as someone who reacts to 'feelings' without reason," he said. "So either something happened... or someone made you think something would." Her fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the file. "Why does it matter to you?" she asked. The question landed heavier than she expected.

Wilson didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached forward, sliding the file out of her hands and closing it with deliberate calm. "Because," he said, finally meeting her eyes again, "if something is affecting your judgment, then it affects your work. And right now, your work is under my responsibility." Delphine's jaw tightened slightly. "That sounds professional," she said. "It is," he replied. Then, after a brief pause, his voice dropped just enough to shift the meaning. "But not entirely."

The air changed.

Delphine felt it before she understood it, that subtle shift where the conversation stopped being strictly about work. "Then what else is it?" she asked, quieter now. Wilson held her gaze, unreadable for a moment. "That," he said slowly, "is something we are not discussing in the middle of an open office." Her pulse skipped. "So we're not discussing it at all?" She challenged me. A faint trace of something almost like amusement touched his expression. "We are," he said. "Just not here."

She blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he continued calmly, straightening slightly, "you're coming to lunch with me."

Delphine stared at him. "Lunch?" she repeated, unsure if she had heard correctly. "You heard me," he said. "We'll discuss the Carson contract... and whatever it is you're not saying." She let out a short breath. "You don't usually invite people to lunch," she said carefully. "I don't," he agreed without hesitation. That didn't help. "Then why me?" she asked.

Wilson stepped back slightly, but his eyes didn't leave hers. "Because you're already involved in something you don't understand yet," he said. "And I'd rather you didn't figure it out the wrong way." Her heart thudded, harder now. "That's not an answer," she said. "It's the only one you're getting for now," he replied.

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn't empty this time. It was loaded.

Delphine looked at him for a long moment, then asked quietly, "And if I refuse?" Wilson didn't hesitate. "You won't," he said. Her brows drew slightly. "You sound very certain." He nodded once. "I am." She held his gaze, testing that certainty. "You don't know me well enough to decide that," she said. This time, his expression shifted slightly, something deeper, more knowing. "No," he said softly. "But I know what pressure looks like. And I know when someone is about to be pushed into a situation they didn't choose."

Her breath slowed.

"And you think that's me?" she asked.

"I don't think," he replied. "I'm sure."

That landed harder than anything else he had said.

Before she could respond, he added, "Fifteen minutes. Be ready." Then he turned and walked away, leaving her with the weight of everything he had just implied.

Delphine didn't move immediately.

Her mind was already racing, replaying his words, searching for meaning he hadn't fully given. "You're already involved." The sentence wouldn't leave her. It sat there, heavy, unfinished, dangerous.

And just as she reached for her phone, it vibrated. She froze. Slowly... she looked down.

A message appeared. No number, no name, just one line:

"You shouldn't go with him."

Delphine's breath stopped and across the office, Wilson's door slowly opened.

And he was already looking at her.

Delphine did not move immediately after reading the message, but when she finally lifted her eyes, Wilson was already watching her with a focus that made it impossible to pretend nothing had changed. "You saw something," he said quietly, stepping closer to her desk without breaking eye contact, and Delphine exhaled slowly before answering. "Another message," she admitted, her voice steady but lower than before. "And this one is very clear." His gaze darkened slightly. "Show me." She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then turned the screen toward him. He read it once, his expression unreadable, then looked back at her. "And you're still going to come with me," he said, not as a question.

Delphine frowned slightly, her fingers tightening around her phone. "That doesn't concern you?" she asked, searching his face for any sign of uncertainty, but he remained composed. "It does," he replied calmly. "But not in the way you think." She shook her head, frustration rising now.

"Someone is clearly watching me, warning me, and you're acting like it's just another detail to manage." His voice dropped slightly. "Because panic won't help you," he said. "And because whoever sent that message wants you to hesitate." Delphine held his gaze. "And what if they're right?" she asked. That made him pause, just long enough to shift the tension.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" he asked quietly. Delphine swallowed once, then said, "That maybe I shouldn't trust you." The words landed heavier than she expected, but she didn't take them back. Wilson studied her for a long second, then stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "If I were the one you should be afraid of," he said slowly, "you wouldn't be receiving warnings. You would already be in trouble." Her pulse jumped, not from fear alone, but from the certainty in his tone. "That's not reassuring," she murmured. "It's not meant to be," he replied.

She exhaled, then slipped her phone back into her pocket. "You still haven't explained anything," she said. "And yet you expect me to follow you to lunch like everything is normal." His expression didn't soften. "Nothing about this is normal," he said. "That's exactly why you're coming with me." She tilted her head slightly. "You're very good at giving orders," she said. "I don't follow orders blindly." A faint shift crossed his face, something sharper this time. "Good," he said. "Then don't follow. Make a decision." Delphine held his gaze. "I am," she replied. "I just haven't decided yet."

Wilson nodded once, as if accepting that answer, but his next words came quieter, more deliberate. "Then let me make one thing clear," he said. "If you stay here, you're exposed. If you leave alone, you're vulnerable. But if you come with me, at least I know where you are." That made her still. "You say that like you're responsible for me," she said. His eyes didn't waver. "Right now," he replied, "I am." The simplicity of that answer unsettled her more than anything else.

They walked out of the office together minutes later, but the silence between them was not empty. It was tight, controlled, filled with everything they were not saying. As they stepped into the elevator, Delphine finally spoke. "You've done this before," she said. "Haven't you?" Wilson glanced at her briefly. "Done what?" She met his eyes directly. "Handled something like this. Someone being watched. Threatened." The elevator doors slid shut, sealing them inside. "Yes," he said after a pause. "And it didn't end well." Her stomach tightened. "For who?" she asked. He didn't answer immediately.

"For the person who didn't listen," he said at last.

The restaurant was quiet, but Delphine barely noticed the setting this time. As soon as they sat down, she leaned slightly forward, her voice low but firm. "Start explaining," she said. Wilson rested his hands lightly on the table, studying her with that same measured intensity. "You're being pulled into something connected to a past case," he said. "One that should have stayed buried." Her brows drew together. "And this involves me how?" He didn't look away. "That's what I'm trying to confirm." She let out a short breath. "So I'm just... a possibility to you?" she asked. "Not just that," he said. "You're also a risk."

That stung more than she expected. "A risk," she repeated. "That's how you see me?" His voice remained calm. "That's how the situation sees you," he corrected. "I'm just being honest." Delphine leaned back slightly, studying him now. "You keep saying things like that," she said. "Like you're protecting me, but also keeping me at a distance." A faint tension appeared in his jaw. "Because getting too close to this," he said, "has consequences." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "For me?" she asked. He held her gaze. "For both of us."

The words lingered between them, heavier than anything before.

Delphine was about to respond when her phone vibrated again on the table between them. This time, both of them looked down at the same moment. A new message appeared.

"Public places won't save you."

Her breath caught. Wilson's expression changed, not dramatically, but enough for her to see it. Recognition. Calculation. Something darker. "They're close," he said quietly. Delphine's pulse spiked. "You're saying they're here?" she asked. His eyes moved subtly, scanning the room without turning his head. "I'm saying they know exactly where you are," he replied.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her phone. "This isn't just about me," she said, her voice barely steady. "This is connected to you." Wilson didn't deny it. "Yes," he said.

That single word settled between them with a weight Delphine could not ignore, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice tightening as she said, "Then stop holding back and tell me everything, because I'm already in this whether I like it or not." Wilson held her gaze for a moment, as if measuring how much she was ready to hear, but before he could respond, her phone vibrated sharply against the table, cutting through the tension like a blade. She glanced down, her breath catching as the screen lit up again, and this time her expression changed completely. "No... this isn't just a message," she murmured, her fingers hesitating before she opened it.

Wilson's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" he asked quietly, but she didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned the phone slightly toward herself, her pulse rising as the image loaded, and the moment she saw it, the color drained from her face. "Delphine," he pressed, his tone sharper now, "what did they send you?" She swallowed hard, then slowly turned the screen toward him without speaking. For a second, neither of them moved. Then Wilson's entire posture shifted.

The photo had been taken from behind.

Inside the restaurant.

Close enough to capture every detail.

Her. Him. The table. The exact angle they were sitting at.

Delphine's fingers tightened around the phone as her voice dropped into a whisper. "They're here," she said, the words barely leaving her lips. Wilson didn't respond immediately, but his eyes darkened in a way she hadn't seen before, not controlled, not distant, but alert in a way that sent a sharp chill through her chest. "Stay still," he said quietly, his gaze flicking past her for the briefest second before returning to her face. "And don't react."

Her heart began to pound harder. "You think I can stay calm after this?" she asked under her breath, her voice trembling despite her effort to control it. Wilson leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping even lower. "You don't have a choice," he said. "If they're close enough to take that, then they're close enough to be watching your reaction." Delphine's breath faltered, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "Then tell me what to do," she said.

That was when he stood.

The movement was controlled, but fast enough to shift the energy around them instantly. Delphine looked up at him, confusion and fear colliding in her chest. "Wilson?" she called softly, but his expression had changed completely. The calm, measured control she had grown used to was gone, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous. "Don't turn around," he said, his voice firm now, no hesitation, no softness.

Her body tensed immediately. "Why?" she asked, barely above a whisper. Wilson didn't answer, and that silence told her everything.

Too late, because behind her, she heard it.

The faint scrape of a chair against the floor. Slow. Deliberate. Close.

Delphine's breath stopped as every instinct in her screamed to move, but she couldn't. She couldn't even bring herself to breathe properly as the sound settled right behind her, followed by the unmistakable shift of someone sitting down. Her fingers curled tightly against the edge of the table, her pulse roaring in her ears as she felt it, the presence, the closeness, the certainty that whoever had been watching them was no longer hiding.

Then a voice came. Low. Calm. And far too familiar.

"So," the stranger said quietly from behind her, "this is the one you chose." Delphine's blood ran cold and across from her, Wilson's expression turned deadly.