Mr. Billionaire's Whimsical Secretary

My phone starts going off for the hundredth of time. However, I still can't find the courage to take it. “Noooo!” I whine to myself, hiding my face with my blanket. “Why did I do that?” I start thrashing my limbs around on the bed as my skin crawls, remembering my action of last night. It's been minutes since I woke up. My treacherous mind was generous enough to flood bits of images of last night's incident. Please, God, why don't you just turn me into a hippopotamus right now? I need thick skin so that my embarrassment can't pierce through it, and I don't have to suffer. “Please God! Just vanish me into the dust! Please! Or just let me take my embarrassing existence back in the form of a sperm so that I can restart my life once again!” Hiding my face on the pillow, I plead. “What's gotten into you? Should I call for an exorcist?” My little sister asks. I find her looking at me with her judging eyes when I look up. How could I forget that this little spawn of the devi

I snort my coffee at him, getting off guard by his peculiar demand. Unimpress his grandma? Mr.Cruz couldn't get any weirder than this. Now, I'm questioning my sanity. Is it really taking place or am I just having a very vivid dream? So vivid is the dream that I find Cruz's hard eyes narrowing on me as he cleans his dress shirt. Shit! Did I snort that loud? He throws a nasty glare at me and it helps my mind to reach a conclusion. It can't be a dream. It's happening and I don't know where it's going. “Are you kidding?” I ask after a while, finding it hard to wrap my mind around his bizarre request. “Does it look like I'm kidding?” He grits out, taking aid from his handkerchief to get rid of the coffee stains that I left on him. “Well, you don't look like a mad man either but you are.” I wanted to say but I held myself back. “You don't look like the biggest jerk because of your plump and kissable lips. Your lips look like they want to kiss me but they aren't doing that.” my horny mi

“Cheers!” smiling widely, I click my glass with a shocked Owen's and an unenthusiastic Bella's. “What's wrong with you guys?” I ask, setting down the glass of champagne which probably worths more than my salary. “What's wrong with us?” Owen looks flabbergasted, covering his mouth with his hand with has a cute barbie bandaid on with the curtesy of Bella. “As far as we are concerned, What's wrong with you?” He continues. Rolling my eyes at his exaggerated concern, I take a sip of the alcohol. The thing is, I couldn't do it alone. I didn't know how to play the part of a sugar baby alone. I didn't know how to put a dent in Cruz's bank account because God help me! It takes more than a hundred chanel bags for that to happen. This man is loaded. I mean loaded with billions. So, I had to drag my friends along with me and buy them anything that their heart desire. I know I may pay for it later on. Cruz won't be too kind to me afterwards. But again, he didn't put a limit for me to use.

“Is it really necessary?” My voice remains gloomy as I ask, taking a look at the mirror. “Absolutely.” Owen excitedly replies, standing behind me. I look back at him, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. He is acting weird. Usually he is the one who despises Cruiz the most. Something must have happened between them when they were college buddies. Owen even despised the floor Cruiz walked on. So, it's absolutely weird that he is the most excited one about me going on a dinner date with the very person he seems to scorn to death.“What's with you?” My voice was laced with curiosity, “Why are you so excited?Instead of replying to me, he offers me a toothy grin. Without uttering a word, he fixes my hair. “Now you look good.” He compliments, “Huh! I would love to see that fuckers's face when he sees you. You look absolutely stunning, baby doll.” He continues, causing me to blush a little. Punching his chest, I take a seat beside Bella on the couch who hasn't said anything till now. She is

“How dare-” one hard punch. “-you touch her.” Followed by another punch. The aching pain in my jaw is nothing compared to the scene unfolding in front of me. On one hand, thousands of butterflies are settling in my stomach, giving me a feeling that I've never felt before. Cared for. Prioritized. Growing up, I always wanted to be cared for because I was just so tired of taking care of everything and everyone without getting anything in return. Needless to say, I've always been carrying that hollowness in my chest. Seeing Spencer getting so violent, beating the shit out of those giants who weigh like a ton, asking them how dare they touch me, are making me feel things. Things which should be banned from being felt by me. On the other hand, the rational side of my mind is telling me to stop him before he ends up killing anyone. Cars have started to stop to witness the drama. It won't long when people start to call the cops, if they haven't called them already. Snapping out of my contra