All Chapters of Valerio's Secretary: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

95 Chapters

Chapter Eighty-One: The Nonno

Valerio's POVI am still sitting on the cold floor outside her door when Luca approaches me.The tears have dried on my cheeks. The hallway is dark and silent, and the only sound is the faint hum of the building's heating. I don’t know how long I have been here. Might be minutes, hours, It does not matter. I am not going anywhere."Valerio." Luca's voice is low, urgent. I don’t look up. "Valerio, get up.""I can’t leave.""You have to. Security just called. Your grandfather arrived from Italy. He is at the estate."I freeze. The words cut through the fog of my despair like a blade. My grandfather—Nonno.He is the only person who can look at me and see through every mask, every lie, every carefully constructed wall. He built this empire, shaped me into the man I am and he will not hesitate to tear me apart if he thinks I have lost my way."Valerio." Luca crouches down beside me. "You can’t ignore him. You know that."I close my eyes and think about Zara on the other side of this door,

Chapter Eighty-Two: The Breakfast

Valerio's POVI’ve barely slept.Everything feels too wrong—the bed is too soft, the room too quiet, the silence too loud. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Nonno's words echo in my head. Devi sistemare le cose. Prima che diventi troppo tardi. (You need to fix things. Before it becomes too late.)I don’t know how to fix anything.Gray light filters through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room. I drag myself out of bed, my body heavy, my mind numb, and dress in a dark shirt and trousers, run a hand through my hair, and walk toward the dining room.Nonno is already there.He is seated at the head of the long table, a cup of espresso in his hand, his posture straight and commanding. The table is set with fresh bread, cheeses, cured meats, and fruit, the smell of coffee filling the air. It’s a tradition to always have breakfast together with the family when we’re all here. But today, it feels like a trial."Siediti,"

Chapter Eighty-Three: The Aftermath

Zara's POV I hear him before I hear Luca. His footsteps are heavy, dragging against the hallway floor. They stop outside my door. I sit up in bed, my heart pounding. He is here…he came back. I hear him slide down against the door, his ragged breathing coming through the door. I hear the weight of him pressing against the wood. I press my palm to my chest, trying to steady myself. ‘Open the door. Just open the door. Let him in. Let him explain.’ I don’t move. Minutes pass, maybe longer; I don’t know. I just sit there, staring at the door, feeling him on the other side of it. I want to open it and believe him. I want to let him hold me and tell me it was all a mistake. I can’t. My hands are clenched in my lap, the tears are already falling. I press my fist to my mouth to keep from making a sound. I want to confront him and scream at him. I want to ask him why he did this to me. I’m rooted to my bed. Then I hear Luca's voice, low and urgent. He says something I can’t catch. I h

Chapter Eighty-Four: The Comfort

Zara's POVI look up through the blur of tears, and Luca is standing there.His face shifts when he sees me—the sharp intake of breath, the way his eyes go wide for just a second before he masks it. He steps closer, crouching beside my chair, his hand hovering near my arm as if he is not sure whether to touch me."Zara," he says. "What happened?"I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The tears are still falling, hot and relentless, and I can’t stop them. I can’t breathe. I can only sit here, in this chair, in this office, surrounded by the ghost of him.Luca doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the chair beside mine and sits down, angling his body toward me. His voice is low, gentle. "Tell me."I shake my head. I can’t. If I say it out loud, it becomes real, and I have to accept that he chose her. That he left me and that the past of us is gone forever."Zara." Luca's holds my hands, his grip warm and steady. "You can talk to me. I am your friend. I have always been your f

Chapter Eighty-Five: The Silence

Valerio's POVI stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the endless blue of the ocean, but I don’t see it. I see her face, flashes of all the expressions she has shown me over the months I’ve known her, and lastly the way she looked at me on the plane—cold, empty, done.I press my palm against the cool glass and close my eyes. Outside, the ocean stretches endlessly, blue and perfect. Inside, everything is white, gold trim, and quiet luxury that feels like a cage. Nonno’s guards stand just beyond the door, with more patrolling the grounds. Every moment, every phone call, every second of silence is reported back to him. This was supposed to be a vacation—a chance to relax, bond with Clara and prepare for the family we are about to start. Instead, it feels like exile. I can still hear Nonno's voice in my head: “Devi sistemare le cose. Prima che diventi troppo tardi.” (You need to fix things. Before it becomes too late.)But how do I fix something I have already broken? C

Chapter Eighty-six: The New Normal

Zara's POVThe night air is cool against my skin as Luca pulls up outside my apartment building. The city lights flicker in the distance, indifferent to the weight I carry. I sit in the passenger seat for a moment, my hands resting in my lap, staring at the building I have called home for almost a year now.Luca kills the engine. He doesn’t rush me; he just waits."Thank you," I say, my voice hollow. "For tonight. For everything."He just looks at me, his eyes soft and steady. “You don’t have to thank me, Zara. You are not alone. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.” I want to believe him…that I am not alone, but the silence in my chest tells me otherwise."I know," I say. "I will be okay. I just need time."He nods. "Text me when you get inside," he says. "So, I know you are safe."I nod and step out of the car. The door closes behind me with a soft thud, and I walk toward the entrance, my footsteps echoing in the quiet street. I don’t look back.I step inside my apartment and

Chapter Eight-Seven: The Comparison

Zara's POVThe restaurant is warm and intimate, tucked away in a corner of the city I have never explored. Soft amber light spills from lanterns suspended above the tables, casting a honeyed glow over white linen and polished silver. The air smells of rosemary and garlic, and of wine and warmth. It is the kind of place that feels like a secret, like something meant to be shared with someone special.I sit across from Kenji in the soft amber light, my hands wrapped around an untouched glass of water. He is everything Valerio is not—open, easy, kind without rough edges. There is no undercurrent of danger in the way he looks at me, no silent demand that makes my pulse jump. I try to let that comfort me. "It’s good to see you," he says, smiling. "I was not sure you would come."I manage a small smile. "Neither was I.""Then I am glad you did."The waiter arrives, and we order. “You look different,” he says after the waiter leaves. “Not in a bad way. Just…quieter than you were in Tokyo.”

Chapter Eighty-eight: The Return

Zara's POVThe east wing is quieter, with solid walls instead of glass. For a week I have lived without the constant pull of his presence. I tell myself I am relieved, because the truth is more complicated. Then the whispers start. Two assistants from the executive floor pass my desk, their voices low. One glances at me quickly and looks away. My stomach tightens.He’s back. I sit at my desk, staring at the same line of report for the third time. The numbers refuse to make sense. My hands feel unsteady on the keyboard. Every few minutes I catch myself glancing toward the hallway as if I might somehow feel him the moment he steps onto this floor. The assistants’ whispers still linger in my ears. He’s back. The trip is over. I press my palms flat against the desk and force myself to breathe. I spent a week telling myself I was done, spent my nights repeating the words like it was a poem. Now he is in the same building again, and my body has already betrayed me with the same tight pul

Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Warning

Zara's POVI walk back to my desk on shaky legs.I can still feel his forehead against mine, the desperate edge in his voice when he told me he would come back. I sit down, press my palms flat against my eyes, and draw in deep breaths to relax. ‘You did good, Zara.’ I whisper it again, but the words taste like bile. I feel a light rasp against my desk, and I raise my head to see a delivery guy from one of the flower shops in the city. He sets a beautiful arrangement on my desk—white lilies and pale blue irises, tied with a simple ribbon. My heart stops for a second. I reach for the card."The flowers are not a demand. Just a reminder that someone sees you. No pressure. Just a smile, if you have one to spare. —Kenji"I press the card to my chest for a moment. No demand, just quiet kindness. For the first time today, my breathing eases a little. I set the card down carefully, letting the small warmth settle in my chest beside the larger ache left by Valerio. Then Luca appears at my

Chapter Ninety: The Constraint

Valerio's POVI walk back from the breakroom, the hurt I saw in her eyes still haunting me. My hands are shaking, and my chest feels empty. I’ll go back till she hears me out and knows I didn’t mean to hurt her. I told her, and I meant every word of it.Luca meets me in the hallway to my office. His face looks calm, but I know what that look means."Valerio." His voice is urgent. "Nonno is in your office."I freeze. "What?""He arrived ten minutes ago. He is waiting for you."I close my eyes, and the dread settles in my chest like stone. What is he doing here?I walk toward my office, each step heavier than the last. The hallway feels longer, and the walls feel closer. I push open the door, and he’s standing by the window, his back to me, his hands clasped behind him."Nonno." My voice is tight. "Cosa stai facendo qui?" (What are you doing here?)He turns slowly. His eyes are cold, sharp, and cutting through me like glass."Ho sentito delle voci, again," he says. "Voci sulla tua assis

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