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Respect Earned
Huling Na-update:
2025-10-07 08:00:02Amara’s POV
Amara stood outside Damian’s office, her heartbeat thudding so loud it almost drowned out her thoughts. The glass doors loomed ahead—clear, sharp, and offering nowhere to hide. Through the frosted panel, she could make out his silhouette: tall, still, impossible to read.He’d only sent five words.> Come to my office. Now.No context. No tone. Typical Damian.It had been three days since the board meeting—three exhausting, rumor-filled days since she’d risked her job to clear his name. Three days of whispers in the halls, reporters hounding the front desk, and investors finally calming down only because she’d handed them solid proof on a silver platter.Cruz Holdings was safe. The scandal was dead before it caught fire.But Damian?He hadn’t said a word to her. Not even thank you.So why now?Amara exhaled, smoothing her skirt with unsteady hands. You’ve handled worse. You
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His Billion-Dollar Secret Rumors and Risks
Amara’s POVThe email hit her inbox at 9:47 a.m.Subject: Internal Review — Conduct InquiryHer fingers froze above the keyboard. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. The words blurred, sharp and cold like ice against her skin.She read the first line again, heart hammering in her chest.> This is to inform you that an internal review has been initiated concerning your professional conduct and potential breach of company policy.Her name.Damian’s title.The subtext screamed louder than the words ever could.Her stomach dropped.Even before she looked up, she felt it — the shift in the air, the way conversations quieted when she walked past. Whispers that had once been rumors now sounded like proof. And she was the headline.For a long moment, Amara just sat there, staring at the screen. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she stood and walked straight to Damian’s office.The assistant tried to stop her. “He’s in a—”She didn’t wait. The glass door swung open under her hand.Da
His Billion-Dollar Secret Ethan’s Move
Ethan’s POVHe’d told himself a hundred times it wasn’t his problem.That whatever Amara chose — whoever she chose — wasn’t his to question.But lately, the look in her eyes made that impossible to believe.That tired, faraway look she wore when she thought no one was watching.And it burned.Ethan had always admired her — not just for her talent, but for that quiet strength she carried. The kind that didn’t need attention to command respect. He’d watched her climb her way up, earn every ounce of credibility in rooms that didn’t want to give it to her.And now… people were whispering again.He’d heard the laughter in the breakroom. The not-so-subtle jokes when her name and Damian Cruz’s came up together.He wanted to believe it wasn’t true. That Amara wouldn’t risk everything she’d worked for.But then he saw them.In the garage. Late.Damian’s hand at her back, her face tilted toward h
His Billion-Dollar Secret The Weight on Silence
Amara’s POVBy the end of the week, the silence hurt more than words ever could.The whispers had grown sharper — meaner. They followed her down hallways, hiding behind fake smiles and polite greetings. Every time she stepped into the elevator, she could feel it — the weight of all their assumptions pressing down on her.She’s sleeping with him.That’s why she’s still here.Poor girl doesn’t even know she’s temporary.Amara pretended not to hear. Pretended the heat in her cheeks was just exhaustion, not humiliation. But pretending didn’t protect her anymore.She stopped eating lunch in the cafeteria. Started skipping meetings she could attend over email instead. Each day, she folded a little smaller, her voice a little quieter.And Damian noticed. Of course he did.He kept asking if she was okay, if she needed time off. She always said she was fine — but every time, the lie got heavier.By Friday night, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.The message she typed was short, almost blunt:>
His Billion-Dollar Secret Cracks in the Armor
Damian’s POVThe boardroom felt colder lately.Even with the skyline glowing beyond the glass walls and the polished table reflecting every light, the air had turned tense — sharp, brittle, full of things no one dared say out loud.Damian sat at the head of the table, half-listening as the directors talked through reports — profit margins, investor confidence, public image. The words blurred together into white noise.He hadn’t slept properly in weeks.Most nights ended the same: his phone lighting up in the dark, Amara’s name on the screen, the ache of wanting to see her but knowing he shouldn’t.His gaze drifted across the table — to her.Amara was presenting, voice steady and clear, the glow from her slides catching the edge of her face. Her tone never faltered, but he saw the flicker in her eyes — that trace of exhaustion she couldn’t hide.The whispers had started. He’d heard them in the halls, in elevator
His Billion-Dollar Secret Jealous Eyes
Ethan’s POVSomething about Amara Lopez was different.He noticed it in the small things first — the way her laugh came slower now, softer, like she was guarding it. How her attention drifted mid-conversation, eyes unconsciously drawn to Cruz’s office. The way her posture changed when Damian’s name came up — just a fraction gentler before she caught herself.Ethan had always been good at reading people. It was what made him great at his job — spotting lies, loyalty, weakness. And Amara... she was hiding something.He just didn’t want to admit what it was.For months, he’d watched her rise through Cruz Holdings — smart, steady, relentless. She’d earned every win. But lately, her focus had slipped. She came in earlier, stayed later. Took projects that just happened to overlap with Damian Cruz’s schedule.And when she smiled — really smiled — it wasn’t because of anything in the office. It was because of him.Ethan tried to reason with himself. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe gratitude. Mayb
His Billion-Dollar Secret The Art of Pretending
Amara’s POVRumors travel faster than truth.They start small — a whisper in the break room, a glance that lasts too long — and before you know it, they’ve taken on shape, voice, and weight.By the third week, the whispers had names. Hers. His.> “Did you see her leave his office last night?”“They’re always together lately.”“I heard he drove her home again.”Each word hit like a pebble against glass — small, but sharp enough to leave cracks.Amara tried to tune it out. She buried herself in work, in spreadsheets and proposals, in anything that wasn’t him. But silence couldn’t hide what was already true — because every rumor carried a sliver of it.They had met late. They had lingered too long.They had crossed that line.And now, they were pretending it hadn’t happened.Cold tones in meetings. Polite smiles in the hallway. Conversations so professional they could draw blood.But behind closed doors, the act fell apart.The way his hand brushed hers when he passed her a file.The way
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