His Cold Heart, My Fiery Soul
Delphine Yenla has learned one thing the hard way; love doesn't just hurt, it breaks you in ways you don't recover from. So she stopped believing in it. She chose independence, control, and a life where no one could get close enough to hurt her again.
And for a while, it worked.
Until Wilson Dan walked into her world.
Cold, composed, and impossible to read, Wilson is the kind of man who never loses control. He does not get involved. He does not make mistakes. And he never lets anyone get close enough to matter.
But she doesn't realize... Wilson is not the kind of man you resist twice.
People don't challenge him.
Delphine does.
From their very first encounter, something shifts. The tension between them is immediate, sharp, unsettling, impossible to ignore. And from the moment he notices her, walking away stops being a choice. Every conversation feels like a quiet battle. Every glance lingers longer than it should. And the more they try to stay in control, the more everything begins to slip.
But this is not just about attraction.
There are things Wilson isn't saying.
Things Delphine is starting to notice.
And people around them who are already watching... and waiting.
What began as resistance quickly became something she cannot control.
Because this is not just about feelings.
It is about power. It is about position.
And Delphine may already be standing somewhere she doesn't understand,
somewhere she cannot simply walk away from.
Is she getting closer to Wilson...
or already too deep to step out?
When control finally breaks, one truth becomes impossible to ignore:
Some hearts don't just fall in love.
They fall into something they may not survive.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
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 may also like
7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
9.1
My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world.
7.5
"Let's play a game."
"What game?"
"One that involves you not screaming."
★★★★★
I'd been the perfect girlfriend to my star hockey player for two years.
Stood in the rain at his practices. Drove hours just to watch him warm benches. Wore his jersey like it meant something.
And he repaid me by fucking his way through half of Chicago-including the sister of the one man he's been obsessed with for years.
Zane Mercer.
The NHL's most dangerous player. My stepfather's worst enemy. And the man who looked at me like I was something worth destroying the world for.
One impossible offer.
One desperate bet.
One night that changed everything.
Zane doesn't do fake. He doesn't do half measures.
When he tells me I'm his for two months, he means it. In every way that matters.
But Zane has secrets buried so deep they connect to my family's past in ways I never imagined. Dark secrets. Deadly ones.
What starts as a transaction turns into obsession.
What starts as revenge turns into something I can't walk away from.
And what starts as a lie might be the only truth that matters.
They say some men are too dangerous to love.
They're right.
But I was never good at following warnings.
★★★★★
This book contains explicit sexual content, dominant/possessive behavior, morally gray characters, family conflict, and themes that may be triggering. Intended for mature readers 18+.
This isn't your normal hockey romance. It's dark, raw, and unrelenting-where obsession, desire, and power collide, and nothing is off-limits.
7.5
I was Nyx, a top-tier covert operative. But when I opened my eyes, I was trapped in the unfamiliar, overweight body of a bullied girl named Eliza.
Before I could even process the body swap, the bedroom door splintered open. I was in bed with Julian Malone, a wealthy military heir, both of us heavily drugged. Cameras flashed wildly. It was a vicious setup to ruin his career, and I was the bait.
To save his family's reputation, Julian was forced to marry me. But the moment the wedding was over, he abandoned me. His elite family treated me like a disease. His mother froze my only bank account, trying to starve me into submission.
I even intercepted a private conversation between his parents.
"Once she's in a private facility, she loses all legal standing. We can sign anything we want on her behalf."
They planned to lock me up in a mental asylum and erase my existence entirely to get rid of the "trailer park trash."
To them, I was just a weak, pathetic pawn they could crush without a second thought. They thought they had backed a helpless girl into a corner.
They had no idea they had just declared war on a lethal weapon.
I didn't cry or beg. Instead, I bypassed their state-of-the-art security, cracked their safe, and stole the financial secrets that could destroy their entire empire.
"I want five hundred thousand dollars, or these files go to the IRS."
This time, I was playing by my own rules.
7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."
7.6
Synopsis:
Diana, a twenty-nine year old brilliant young lady and a successful fashion designer. She was grateful she had been able to achieve everything she had without any support.
But there was a void inside of her. She wanted to get married.
She couldn't bear the fact of entering into the big chapter thirty without a life partner. She met David at a business conference meeting. He asked for her number.
She hesitated thinking he wasn't going to stay like the others. She decided to give him a chance and went on a first date with him only to realise that he was serious and wanted to marry her.
What Diana didn't know was that David was pretending all along. He was never interested in her as a person.
During a public awards ceremony, David brings Eleanor, a celebrity who is his new business partner, onto the stage. He dedicates his award to her, claiming she was the "sole inspiration" for his success.
Later that night, he tells Diana that he has already signed the divorce papers. His cold dismissal shatters her, but in the aftermath, a clear-headed determination sets in.