The Devil’s Door

Rain pours harder as I walk away.

Cold. Steady. Relentless.

Just like everything else in my life.

I don’t stop.

I don’t look back.

By the time I reach my apartment, I’m soaked but it doesn’t matter.

Nothing does.

Not the rain.

Not the past.

Not even the name *Sarah* in my head.

I close the door behind me and lock it.

Silence.

Complete.

Comforting.

My phone vibrates.

Another message.

*New instruction:*

*Apply as secretary.*

*Ian Dior Company.*

*You need access.*

I stare at the screen.

So this is how it starts.

Not with a gun.

Not with blood.

But with a smile.

A lie.

A role to play.

I type one word.

*Understood.*

The next morning

I become someone else.

Hair tied neatly.

Formal clothes.

Light makeup.

Soft expression.

Harmless.

Forgettable.

Seirin Takahashi.

Secretary applicant.

Not a weapon.

Not a ghost.

Just a woman looking for a job.

The building stands tall in front of me.

Cold glass.

Sharp edges.

Untouchable.

Just like him.

Ian Dior.

I walk inside.

Every step controlled.

Every breath measured.

Reception.

“Name?” the woman asks.

“Seirin Takahashi,” I reply calmly.

She nods and gestures toward the elevators.

“Top floor. Interviews are ongoing.”

Perfect.

I step inside the elevator.

Alone.

For now.

The doors begin to close

Then suddenly

A hand stops them.

The elevator opens again.

And he walks in.

My breath almost stops.

Just for a second.

Him.

The man from the airport.

The one who bumped into me.

He doesn’t even look at me this time.

Like I’m just another stranger.

He steps inside calmly.

Relaxed.

Different.

The doors close.

Silence fills the elevator.

I glance at him just briefly.

And something feels… off.

He’s not tense.

Not sharp like before.

He looks… normal.

“You going to the top floor?” he asks casually.

I pause for a second.

Then nod.

“Yes.”

He smiles slightly.

Polite.

Gentle.

“I figured. Interviews, right?”

I blink.

That wasn’t the reaction I expected.

“Yes,” I answer shortly.

“Good luck,” he says.

Simple.

Kind.

The elevator continues rising.

And for the first time

He looks like someone completely different from the man in the airport

Then—

Ding.

The doors open.

Top floor.

We step out together.

And that’s when everything changes.

“Good morning, sir!”

Voices suddenly fill the hallway.

Staff bow slightly as they pass him.

Respect.

Immediate.

Absolute.

I stop.

My eyes widen just slightly.

Sir?

He walks forward like it’s nothing.

Like this is normal.

Like this is his world.

Then someone approaches him quickly.

“Mr. Dior, your meeting is ready.”

My heart stops.

Mr.

Dior.

No.

My gaze snaps back to him.

The man from the airport.

The man from the elevator.

Ian Dior.

The *target.*

And yet—

He smiles warmly at the staff.

“Give me five minutes,” he says gently.

“No need to rush.”

Gentle.

Calm.

Nothing like the rumors.

Nothing like the *King of Hell.*

I stand there, frozen.

This isn’t the man I expected.

Not cold.

Not cruel.

But composed.

Polite.

Almost… kind.

It doesn’t make sense.

He turns slightly

And for a brief moment, our eyes meet again.

No recognition.

No suspicion.

Just a simple glance.

Like I’m no one.

Like I don’t exist.

Good.

That’s exactly what I need.

I lower my gaze and continue walking toward the interview room.

But inside

Everything is shifting.

Because the man I came to destroy…

Is nothing like the monster I imagined.

And somehow

That makes him even more dangerous.

__

The waiting room is quiet.

Too quiet.

Applicants sit in perfect rows, resumes clutched tightly in their hands. Some whisper to themselves. Some rehearse smiles.

Nervous.

Hopeful.

I sit among them.

Still.

Calm.

Different.

This isn’t a job interview.

This is infiltration.

One by one, names are called.

One by one, they walk in

And come out looking either relieved…

Or defeated.

Time passes.

Slowly.

Then

The door opens again.

But instead of an assistant

He walks in.

Ian Dior.

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