Contos e Romances com Secretary e Face Slapping

During the company retreat, my husband put my dignity on the poker table. He deliberately threw the game to the twenty-two-year-old intern, feeding her the winning hand and letting her bask in everyone's applause. I frowned and was about to speak, but my husband gently patted the back of my hand. "Don't take it too seriously, lady boss. Let the young girl have her fun." When the intern's gaze settled on the diamond bracelet around my wrist, I instinctively reached to protect the last shred of dignity I had left. Before I could say a word, my husband had already agreed on my behalf. "Fine. We'll bet that." Laughter erupted around the table, and my heart went cold. Just then, my baby suddenly stirred inside me, and a tiny voice echoed in my mind. 'Mommy, bet with her. I'm your little lucky charm. I'll make sure you win.' I raised my eyes to meet the intern's challenging stare. Then, without breaking eye contact, I slowly slipped the bracelet off my wrist.

My fiancé, Alpha Caleb, had an Omega secretary. One day, she took the Thorne pack's black card on a massive shopping spree in the luxury district. She even mocked me in a high-end salon. She called me a useless Rogue with no background—just a leech clinging to the Alpha. I snapped and cut off her access. She tried to pay. The card declined. She became the laughingstock of the pack. The Enforcers even detained her in the holding cells for a whole day and night. Caleb found out. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. His hot Alpha breath hit my neck. He bit my earlobe gently. "Aurelia, stop acting like a jealous little she-wolf. You have no manners. You embarrassed her in front of the whole pack." He didn't scold me. He acted normally. Until our anniversary night. He booked the Cloud Room, the most exclusive restaurant downtown. He ordered dozens of vintage wines and expensive caviar, promising a celebration with the core pack members. "Honey, I need to take a call. I will be right back." I waited and waited. The restaurant was about to close. No sign of him. No sign of his so-called friends. I pulled out his supplementary card to pay the bill. The manager looked at me coldly. "Miss, your card is frozen."

When I found Silas Pembroke, he was carefully untangling a strand of another woman’s hair from his tie clip. The two of them were wrapped around each other, far too close to pretend otherwise. He let out a mocking laugh. “Jenna, what exactly are you going to accuse Sienna and me of this time?” Sienna Vale smiled sweetly. “Mrs. Pembroke, you stayed away longer than usual this time.” I steadied myself and said, “I’m not Jenna. I’m her twin sister, Summer Sinclair.” Silas burst out laughing. “What is this, your latest stunt?” Then his expression hardened. “Keep pushing me, and I can’t promise you’ll stay Mrs. Pembroke forever.” I only looked at him and said quietly, “Silas, my sister left three keepsakes behind for you.”

I am delivering documents to my fiance, Caleb Greene, when I see his personal assistant, Yelena Langdon, sit in his lap. "Mr. Greene, the seatbelt's broken and dug into my chest so hard that it really hurts now. Could you help me take a look?" Caleb, who claims to have a phobia of women, lets out a low chuckle and strokes her waist. "Is that so? Then I should take a closer look to see where you're hurt." The two get tangled together right there in the car, so engrossed in each other that they fail to notice me standing outside even after five minutes have passed. I knock on the car window. After Caleb rolls down the window, his face twists into an expression of shock. "Becca! What are you doing here? I can explain! We were trying out the car earlier when the seatbelt suddenly got jammed—" "There's no need to explain anything. The car suspension is indeed not bad." Tossing the documents right in his face, I then throw the car key into a nearby storm drain. "You can have the car. Don't forget to clean it after you're done having your filthy fun." With that, I turn my back to him and dial my mother's number. "Mom, I agree to meet with the marriage alliance partner you told me about last time. The sooner the better."

Right before Memorial Day weekend, I finally land a rush order from an overseas client, but they insist on delivery on the first day after the holiday. The factory has been sitting idle for two weeks, and the profit from this single order is enough to keep the entire company running for the next six months. I immediately post a notice in the company group chat. "Anyone willing to work over the holiday weekend gets paid five times their base rate, but it's completely voluntary." Nobody takes the offer. Instead, the new intern, Howard Chase, screenshots my message and posts it online. "Heartless boss treats us like machines and forces us to give up Memorial Day weekend." To make matters worse, a few veteran workers chime in with skepticism. "I've never seen anyone actually get paid five times the base rate. I'll believe it when I see it." That very night, the post goes viral, and the onslaught of online criticism forces me to turn off my phone. What's even more absurd is that Howard secretly creates another group chat to rally the workers and pressure me into increasing the pay even more. The next day, I hold a meeting and lay out the cost sheet right in front of everyone. "Paying you five times your base rate already eats up 80% of the profit from this order. The rest has to cover our rent for the second half of the year. I'm not keeping a single dime for myself." I figure laying all my cards on the table like this will make them understand. But Howard immediately goes back to the group chat and stirs everyone up. "Don't back down, everyone! He can definitely pay more. Hold the line until he gives us ten times the base rate!" That's when I lose faith in them completely. I spend the whole night thinking it over, and by morning I know exactly what to do. At the meeting the next day, I announce with a smile, "Management accepts everyone's criticism and will make major changes. Everyone gets the entire Memorial Day weekend off. Not a single day of overtime." Everyone freezes. Someone quietly asks what I am going to do about the order. "I outsourced it. At five times the normal rate, plenty of people are happy to jump at the chance," I reply. By that afternoon, the outsourcing contract is signed, and the client has signed off on the arrangement. Once that sinks in, every single worker starts to panic.