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홈 / Romance / The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary / Sixty Five

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Sixty Five

작가: Ariella's Pen
last update 최신 업데이트: 2025-12-27 17:06:30

Teresa's POV.

The sharp, electronic buzz of the hotel lobby phone seemed to scream directly into my ear. I jerked, sloshing lukewarm coffee onto my wrist. I hadn't even finished my first cup. The day was starting without my permission.

"The car is here for you, ma'am," a clipped voice informed me.

"Thank you. I'll be right down," I managed, my voice still rough with sleep and unspoken fears. I looked at the half-empty mug, a bitter symbol of the peace I wasn't allowed to have. With a sigh, I gr
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  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    One Hundred And Four

    Teresa's POV I couldn’t answer. I cried harder, ugly, wrenching sobs I couldn’t control. I hated it, hated the weakness, hated that he was seeing me come completely undone.“Hey… no, don’t…” He was moving now. I heard the soft thud of his laptop being carelessly dropped to the floor of the car. His hands were on my arms, gentle but firm, pulling my hands away from my face.“Look at me,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.I couldn’t. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down my cheeks.He didn’t force it. Instead, he let go of my wrists and simply pulled me. I was pliant, broken. He lifted me from my seat and onto his lap in one smooth motion, my legs folding to the side. I tried feebly to resist, to push away, but he just gathered me closer, one arm wrapping around my back, the other hand cradling the back of my head, tucking my face against his neck.“Please stop crying,” he murmured into my hair, his own voice thick. “I can’t stand it.”“You don’t love me,”

  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    One Hundred And Three

    Teresa's POV He typed faster, his movements sharp. Click-click-click.“This meeting is important, Teresa. We need to be focused.”“So is this,” I said, the words leaving me in a quiet rush. “We need to talk.”He stopped typing. But he still didn’t look at me. He stared at the lines of code on his screen as if they held the secrets of the universe.“Our personal situation,” he said, the phrase flat and cold, “is starting to interfere with work. It’s becoming a distraction.”My stomach dropped to the floor of the moving car. “What?”He closed one file and opened another with a swift, irritated gesture. “We’ve been distracted. Emotional. Disorganized. It’s bleeding into everything.”I stared at the side of his face, willing him to look at me. “Distracted how? What are you talking about?”He finally turned his head, just enough for me to see the hard line of his mouth. His eyes were dark, devoid of their usual heat, replaced by something icy and distant. “You know exactly what I mean.”“

  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    One Hundred And Two

    Teresa's POV The line went utterly silent.“The screaming woman?” Mariana asked slowly, each word careful. “The one who claimed to be his fiancée in the lobby?”“Yes.”“Did he… explain her? At all?”“Not really. Not until her brother basically gave me the CliffsNotes version in a hotel lobby.” I explained everything Valentino had said—the childhood accident, the fractured mind, the pretend wedding turned real in her psyche, the facility, the fabricated visits.Mariana let out a long, low whistle, then cursed under her breath. “Jesus, Teresa. That’s… heavy. That’s not just ‘my ex is a little clingy.’ That’s a whole tragic lifetime.”“She tried to kill herself because of him. Or because of the idea of him.”“That’s not small,” Mariana said, her voice soft now. “That’s a life-altering weight.”“No. It’s not.”“So he lied,” she stated.“He didn’t tell me everything,” I corrected, though it felt like a flimsy distinction.“Semantics. He withheld critical, life-altering information about a

  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    One Hundred And One

    Teresa's POV The phone was on speaker, balanced precariously on the edge of the bathroom sink. I rushed around, one hand holding a toothbrush, the other scrambling through my makeup bag.“I’m listening,” I said, the words garbled around the toothpaste foam.“You’re not listening,” Mariana’s voice came through, crisp and knowing. “You’re brushing your teeth like you’re in a timed competition. I can hear the aggression.”“I have twenty minutes,” I said, spitting into the sink and turning on the tap with my elbow. “We’re meeting the state governor in an hour. I can’t look like I just rolled out of bed.”“Excuses,” she sang. “You always attack your teeth when you’re stressed. It’s your tell.”I laughed, but it was weak. I reached for a face towel. “Fine. You caught me. Now, what’s so important it couldn’t wait until after my potentially career-defining meeting?”“So,” she began, her voice shifting to a tone of pure, barely-contained glee. “Guess who just got promoted?”I froze, the damp

  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    One Hundred

    Teresa's POV I squeezed my eyes shut, but the past didn’t care about my defenses.High school hallway. The smell of industrial cleaner and cheap perfume. Lockers slamming. A group of girls, led by my former best friend, standing by my locker. Their laughter was sharp, meant to cut.“She thinks she’s so special because he talked to her.”“Whore.”“She’d sleep with anyone to get ahead.”The words painted on my locker in red lipstick. The stares that followed me for months.I pressed my forehead hard against my knees, my arms wrapped around my legs, and forced myself to count breaths. In. Out. One. Two. Three. The panic attack slowly receded, leaving a hollow, shaky exhaustion in its wake.After a few minutes, I stood up on unsteady legs and splashed cold water on my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked normal. A little pale, maybe. But fine. I didn’t feel fine. I felt scraped raw.When I returned to my seat, the two women were gone. My half-finished coffee was cold.

  • The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary    Ninety Nine

    Teresa's POV Mark’s voice cut through the quiet room before I even finished tying the laces of my sneakers.“You’re not going alone.”I didn’t look up, focusing on the knot. “I’m just going to get coffee and do some work at a cafe. I need to focus.”“That’s not the point, and you know it,” he said, his tone flat.I straightened up, finally meeting his eyes. He stood leaning against the doorframe, already dressed in a dark suit, arms crossed. He looked calm, collected, completely in control. The image was at odds with the possessive tension radiating from him.“I need space, Mark. Just a few hours. To think without feeling watched.”“You had space yesterday,” he countered, pushing off the doorframe and taking a step into the room. “And you came back shaken because of a text.”“I came back shaken because someone sent me disturbing messages,” I corrected, my voice tight. “Not because I took a walk. There’s a difference.”His jaw tightened. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what could

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