Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary : Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Teresa's POV Her fingers brushed against mine as she took the folder. Her skin was cool, her touch deliberate. A faint, crisp perfume—something expensive and unsettling—wrapped around me.“Thank you,” she said. Then her eyes shifted to something behind me. “I see you’re keeping her busy.”I turned. Mark was walking toward us.“Someone has to make up for your unscheduled absences,” Mark replied, his voice dry but with an edge.Lena’s smile was a razor blade. “You always were good at keeping your staff… occupied.The tension between them was a live wire. I felt like I was standing in the middle of a silent battle I didn't understand.The afternoon dragged. I was constantly aware of Lena’s presence. She would appear near my desk, asking a pointed question about a project detail, her voice low and intent. It felt less like management and more like a test.By four o’clock, my nerves were frayed. I was heading for the elevators, desperate for a moment of quiet, when I nearly walked straigh

Teresa's POV."Ah,” she said, as if she’d just solved a great mystery. “So you’re saying he probably owns three espresso machines, a stock portfolio for his cat, and his heartbeat is a steady sixty beats per minute, even when sleeping.”“Exactly,” I said, a real chuckle bubbling up this time. It felt good to laugh. “Look, I’ll be home in the morning, okay? The weather report says the rain should stop by dawn, and the roads should clear up. This will all be a weird story to tell.”“Fine,” she said with a theatrical sigh that was pure Mariana. “But if you disappear again, I’m not messing around. I’m calling the police and telling them you were kidnapped by a hot corporate sociopath with a suspiciously well-stocked kitchen.”“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that,” I said dryly. “I’m sure he’ll be flattered by the description.”There was a brief silence then, softer this time. The teasing energy faded, and her voice, when it came again, was quieter, more serious. “You’re really okay, th

Teresa's POV.The clock on my computer screen glowed 9:47 PM. The fluorescent lights hummed a lonely tune above my head, the only sound in the vast, empty office. My desk was a single island of light in a dark sea of cubicles. My eyes burned, dry and gritty from staring at spreadsheets for the last three hours. The numbers had started to swim together about an hour ago.Mark had insisted we stay late to finish the quarterly projections. "It has to be done, Teresa. We're a team." Then, his personal phone had buzzed, that specific, urgent vibration that always meant trouble. His face had tightened. "It's my lawyer. Emergency. I have to take this. Just... wrap it up as best you can." He'd grabbed his coat and was gone, leaving me alone with the silence and the unfinished work.I sighed, pushing my chair back. My neck ached. I was about to admit defeat when I heard the sharp, precise click of heels on the polished concrete floor. I looked up.Lena stood in the doorway of her office, holdi

Teresa's POV I held up the mug, feeling foolish. “I couldn’t sleep. I brought you tea.”She looked at the mug, then back at my face. “You think tea fixes everything?”“It… helps sometimes,” I said, stepping fully into the room. I placed the mug on the table next to the knife, my eyes darting to the blade before I could stop myself.She followed my gaze. “It’s just a habit,” she said quietly.“A habit?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.She was silent for a long moment, her gaze distant, fixed on some memory I couldn’t see. “In Russia,” she began, her accent becoming slightly more pronounced, “my father sent me away to a… training camp. He believed the world was a jungle. He thought discipline and precision were the only things that could make you strong. That could keep you safe.”I stood frozen, not daring to move or speak, afraid I would break the spell.“The men there,” she continued, her voice dropping lower, “they believed discipline meant breaking things. Bones. Spirits. And

“Mark,” Lena said, her voice lowering, becoming almost conversational, yet carrying immense weight. “You are angry because you are scared. You are terrified of losing her. But this,” she made a small, precise gesture toward his hand still locked on my arm, “is not the way to keep her. This is how you push her away for good.”His fists clenched at his sides until the knuckles were white. But after a tense moment, his fingers loosened and fell away from my wrist. The skin felt cold where he had been holding it. “You think you have everything figured out,” he spat.“I know that you will wake up tomorrow and regret the words you are saying tonight,” she stated, her gaze never wavering. “Leave. Go for a walk. Cool down. Before you say something that destroys any chance you have left.”For a long, suspended moment, I was certain he would explode. I thought he would shout, or worse, lunge at her. Instead, he let out a sharp, ragged breath, muttered a vicious curse under his breath, and shoul