It had been a week since Lisa Hathaway started working for Reinhardt Schmidt.
She had quickly learned that Reinhardt was not only melancholic but also deeply secretive.
He'd laid down so many rules that Lisa could barely wrap her head around them but she shrugged it off, telling herself it was probably because she wasn't part of the Schmidt family.
The strangest rule of all was that if she ever heard a loud thud from Reinhardt's office or the sound of glass shattering. She must never enter. Instead, she was to call Bertolt immediately.
Lisa never understood that rule, but she kept to it religiously.
The sound came again that afternoon. Louder than before.
A heavy thud! echoed from Reinhardt's office, followed by the sharp smash of glass and the scrape of a chair toppling.
It was more violent than anything she'd overheard before.
Lisa grabbed her phone, trying to call Bertolt, but there was no signal.
From inside the room came a low, pained groan.
This rule is useless, she thought. What if he's dying?
Before she even realized what she was doing, Lisa had already rushed through the door.
Reinhardt lay sprawled on the floor, specks of blood staining his white shirt, papers scattered everywhere.
Since she started working for him, the curse hadn't progressed along his arm but sometimes it flared violently.
Today was one of those days.
"Bertolt…" Reinhardt gasped, eyes half-shut.
"No, it's me," Lisa answered quickly, kneeling beside him. "I can't leave you like this."
He forced his eyes open. When he saw her face, he felt something..rage or comfort? He couldn't tell.
"Lisa… I told you… not to...." His words broke off in a groan.
"I know I'm not family, but you can't die!" she said stubbornly, dragging him toward the sofa.
The moment her hand touched his arm, the glowing mark dimmed. The light faded, replaced by a wave of sudden stillness.
Reinhardt's breathing steadied. His gaze softened.
"Lisa…" he whispered, reaching toward her face.
"Mr. Reinhardt, here...have some water," she stammered, flustered. "I'll call Bertolt."
But before she could pull away, Reinhardt caught her wrist and gently pulled her closer.
The air between them tightened; she could feel his breath brush her cheek, the warmth of his skin against hers.
Lisa's heart pounded. His lips hovered a breath away,
and then she jerked back to her senses.
"Let me… call Bertolt, Mr. Reinhardt," she said, voice trembling.
Several hours later, Bertolt returned.
The office was unnervingly quiet.
Lisa had cleaned up the mess: the broken glass, the scattered papers.
Reinhardt sat at his desk, his head resting on folded arms, looking like someone sedated.
"Lisa! Lisa!" Bertolt's voice thundered through the hallway.
When she appeared, his glare was searing.
"Didn't we give you rules not to enter that room no matter what happens?"
"I know, but I called you..... you didn't pick up, and—" Lisa tried to explain.
"Shut up! Rules are rules in the Schmidt family!" Bertolt snapped, the vein on his neck tightening.
Lisa fell silent, her fists clenched, eyes glistening with tears.
Bertolt stormed into Reinhardt's office.
"Reinhardt! Are you okay? Can you see what that bitch did?"
Reinhardt didn't move. His head was still lowered on the table.
"Who," he said quietly, "are you calling bitch?"
"She came in!" Bertolt shouted, exasperated.
Reinhardt slowly stood, his expression unreadable. He knew what Bertolt was insinuating.
"Did you yell at her?"
Before Bertolt could answer, Reinhardt was already out of the room.
"Bertolt, are you crazy?" he roared. "She called you! You didn't answer! She saved me, Bertolt!"
"Rules are rules, brother," Bertolt shot back. "What if she saw you shift into a wolf? The secret of the Schmidt pack.... gone, just like that!"
Reinhardt stopped in his tracks, his eyes glowing faintly scarlet.
"You're blinded," Bertolt continued, bitterness creeping into his tone. "Love is dulling your instincts. I see the way you look at her. You're lowering your guard."
"I'm not lowering any guard, Bertolt!" Reinhardt's voice roared through the room, sharp enough to shake the air.
"I know what I'm doing. I fucking know what I'm doing!"
Bertolt stood still, his breath caught in his throat.
Never once had he seen Reinhardt lose control, not even during their offense on other packs or when the curse flared.
"I just want you to remember something, Reinhardt," Bertolt finally found his voice.. "That girl isn't here by chance. She's here for a reason. We don't know what she is yet,so study her objectively, emotionlessly. Don't let whatever you're feeling dull your instincts."
He leaned closer, eyes flashing.
"You can't afford to forget what's at stake."
"I don't care about what you are doing or if you know,you need to be reminded." Beryolt snarled.
But Reinhardt was no longer listening. He snatched his phone from the desk and frantically tried to call Lisa.
No signal.
"Damn it!" He slammed the phone down, the screen fluttering.
Without another word, Reinhardt bolted out of the office, his footsteps could be heard through the marble corridor.