All Chapters of The Billionaire's Nympho Secretary : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Teresa's POV The city was quiet, the kind of deep hush that only comes in the hours just before dawn. My shoes scuffed against the wet pavement, the sound too loud in the stillness. I didn’t have a destination. My feet just moved, carrying me away from his apartment, away from the look on his face. My mind was a broken record, stuck on the moment his hand had closed around my wrist, the warmth of his skin, the raw plea in his eyes. It should have felt like a victory, that finally, he was holding on. But it didn’t. It felt like a final, crushing weight.I found myself at the iron gates of the park. They were always unlocked. I pushed through and walked to our bench—the one where we’d sometimes meet for coffee, where he’d told me about his father, where I’d first realized how deep my feelings for him ran. Now, the wood was cold and damp, seeping through my jeans. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, trying to make myself small. My whole body was a tightly coiled

Teresa's POV.The cheap hotel room smelled of stale air and industrial cleaner. I sat on the edge of the stiff bed, the crisp, white envelope containing my resignation letter balanced on my knees. The pen hovered over the line, my hand trembling slightly before I finally signed my name with a decisive scratch. Teresa Smith. It was done. I had come to this city hoping for a change, for a fresh start away from my old life. Instead, I had found Mark, and every day since had been a storm I was no longer strong enough to weather. My time with Lena had held up a mirror, forcing me to see how I’d been avoiding my own choices, my own agency. I wanted out. I was finally ready to take it.I folded the letter carefully, its edges sharp and final, and slipped it into my bag. Standing, I took a deep, fortifying breath, the air catching in my tight chest. I left the room, my heels clicking a steady, purposeful rhythm against the pavement as I walked toward the office. The sun was barely up, casting

Teresa's POV.My breath hitched. "Accidentally?" I asked, my voice small and frightened."Yes," he said, the word sharp. "She stabbed a man who was trying to hurt her. To protect herself. She was just a child, too. She was so traumatized she was sent to Russia to recover. And by the time our mother finally woke up, when I was ten years old… it was too late. Those formative years, the years when you learn how to love, how to trust… I lost them. We all lost them. The family was broken, and we've been trying to glue the pieces back together ever since, with mixed results."I swallowed hard, my throat burning with unshed tears. "I… I understand. I can't imagine…"He shook his head, a sharp, dismissive motion. "No. You can't. And I don't expect you to. That life… it makes you hard. It makes you build walls so high and so thick that you think no one can ever get in. That's why… that's why I made the contract in the first place. It was a wall. A way to have a relationship without the risk, t

Teresa's POV I took her hand, my mind racing. "Uh… all about me?" I managed, shaking her hand. Her grip was confident."Yes," she said, tilting her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mark hasn't stopped talking. Well, not about business, of course. He's a vault about that. But… other things. You know, how wonderfully capable you are. How you’ve been keeping him organized. How you’ve been… keeping him sane." She said the last part with a deliberate, teasing lilt.I felt my cheeks grow warm. "I… I'm just doing my job," I stammered, feeling utterly transparent.She laughed, a light, musical sound. "Oh, come now. Don't be so modest. You're more than just a secretary. You're brilliant, from what I hear. And you're… charming." She looked me up and down, not unkindly, but with a frank appreciation that was disconcerting. "And yes, I might be a little jealous."Mark's voice was a low growl. "Sophie.""Oh, relax, Mark," she said, not taking her eyes off me. She took a step closer, inva

Teresa's POV Sophie raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading on her face. “Bold claim. I like it. The possessiveness is a good look on you.”He ignored her completely, picking up the toy rifle. It looked comically small in his large, capable hands. He checked the sight, shook his head at its flimsiness, and then pressed the stock against his shoulder. His focus was absolute. He tracked the lead duck for a second, then squeezed the trigger. There was a loud crack and the lead duck tipped backward with a satisfying ding.He didn’t even smile. He just placed the gun down neatly, took the small, foil-wrapped chocolate bar from the booth attendant, and handed it to me with a completely deadpan expression. “Here,” he said. “Don’t get spoiled.”I took the chocolate, my laughter bubbling up again. “You are utterly impossible.”“And you are far too easily entertained,” he muttered back, but the corner of his mouth twitched.We moved on, Victor and Sophie trailing us like overly enthusiastic