Lahat ng Kabanata ng the billonaires secretary : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Dean's POV New York hadn’t changed. Same skyline. Same headlines. Same cold that cuts through your coat and somehow straight into your bones.But something was missing.Her. Bianca WestThe city always felt alive, but lately it just felt loud. Too loud. And empty in all the wrong places.Ever since Bianca moved to Ohio, the edges of my life had gone soft. Not in a romantic way more like numb. She used to be here. In my space. On my couch. Sleeping in my bed, sometimes in my shirt. Vegas still sniffed around for her like he expected her to walk in any second.I think I did too. She was colour in a place of black and whiteI tossed my coat on the chair, kicked off my shoes, and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. The newly hired secretary had rearranged my schedule again. Third time this week. Her pink lipstick stained coffee mug sat on her desk like a declaration of something I never agreed to.She tried too hard. Always in my face, always chirping about how she color coded the company ca

BiancaWe didn’t say much after that. Just passed the cigarette between us, flicking ash into an old mug Trevor reached for earlier. The silence wasn’t awkward it was soft. Easy. It was the kind of silence that wraps itself around your bones and loosens all the places you didn’t know were tense. I hadn’t felt that kind of stillness in a while.The sun outside had started to lower, casting a golden filter across the room. Shadows stretched along the floor. I caught myself looking at him now and then, the sharp lines of his jaw, the tattoo peeking from under his sleeve, the way he leaned back like the world couldn’t touch him.He stretched, slow and lazy, and got up with a quiet groan. “I’ve got some work to finish up,” he said, ruffling a hand through his curls. “But you’re free to hang out here if you want.”I sat up too, brushing ash off my thigh. “No, I should get back to reality. But this was nice”He smiled, like he understood what I meant without needing the backstory. Maybe he d

BiancaI wasn’t expecting anything remarkable out of today. It had been a week since the whole Trevor art show situation and, just like always, life had quietly settled back into its usual rhythm. Work. Sleep. Pretending to have it together. Repeat.It was a little past four, and the sun was low enough to give the streets that golden, dusty filter I loved. Lily tugged at her leash like she had somewhere urgent to be, nose buried in the grass one second, darting toward a tree the next. I stopped by that tiny ice cream shop near the corner and grabbed a cup of vanilla and strawberry with sprinkles more for the childhood comfort than the taste.The walk back was quiet. Too quiet maybe, but I didn’t notice until I got to my door.It was unlocked.I froze.I swear I locked it. I always do.The key in my hand shook slightly as I pushed the door open with my foot, heart climbing to my throat like it already knew something I didn’t.“Hello?” My voice cracked.And then there she was.Claire.S

BiancaSome mornings still felt heavy. I thought it would get easier by now… a month later… but grief had a funny way of creeping up at the oddest times. Like when I was brushing my teeth or choosing what shoes to wear. Or when my phone buzzed and, for half a second, I thought it could be her. It wasn’t as paralyzing as those first days after the funeral. But there was still that… weight. That dull ache sitting behind my ribs like it owned the space now. I buried myself in work because that’s what I knew how to do. Emails. Reports. Calendar management. I became the go-to person for every little logistical fire in the office. Anything to keep my hands moving and my mind distracted. Trevor and I hadn’t really talked since… well… everything. Just casual nods when we crossed paths. No awkwardness. No drama. Just… distance. Like two people carefully walking around a crack in the floor. Avery had been my lifeline though. Always showing up with snacks, dumb memes, or just silence when

BiancaI didn’t know what I expected on their last day. Maybe for Evelyn to pull me aside. Maybe for her to say something, anything. A goodbye that felt… bigger. But of course, she didn’t. The whole week had been like this… Me pretending not to look at her during morning briefings. Me catching glimpses of her across the room, standing tall in her blazers, talking numbers and strategy with her team. Me using the elevator like it was some emotional Russian roulette, hoping to catch her alone. Hoping she'd say something more than the usual soft, polite: "Hey, how’s your day going?" Sometimes she offered me rides home. I always said yes like I didn’t know better. Like I wasn’t going to sit there for atleast five minutes too long in her car, fingers digging into my bag like restraint was something I owned. And then there was that night. The night I didn’t come down. The night I climbed on top of her, moving against her lap like I didn’t care who I became in that moment. Slow, desperate