Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of Protect His Secretary, Abandon His Wife.
David stayed quiet for what felt like forever before finally speaking. "You're right," he admitted. "You've been working yourself to the bone—I can see you wasting away. Just stay home and take care of things here."
Without a second thought about my career, he scribbled his approval on my resignation and slid the paper across the desk. I picked it up, cool as ice. "Thanks, David. Guess this is goodbye then."
His expression darkened. I saw the question forming on his lips—what did I mean by that? But he bit it back, assuming I only meant professionally. I didn't bother clarifying.
As I left his office, I caught his excited phone call: "Promote Cinthia effective immediately—she's taking Rosaline's position. Throw her a surprise party tonight."
I smirked bitterly. Of course he'd be thrilled—with me out of the picture, he could screw his secretary without looking over his shoulder.
Back home, my belongings barely filled a carry-on. Eight years together, and what did I have to show for it? Not a single keepsake from happier times. Maybe that was for the best—no souvenirs meant no painful memories.
I tried calling David one last time. Predictably, no answer. Just as I was hanging up, Cinthia's breathy voice purred through the receiver: "Rosaline... David's in no shape to talk. Had a bit too much at my party—passed out in my bed." A wet smack of lips made my stomach turn. "Don't worry, I'll take real good care of him."
"Keep him," I said evenly, then ended the call.
With two hours until my flight, I couldn't stand being in that house. A business card slipped from my pocket—no company name, just an address. Before I could second-guess it, I was in a cab heading downtown.
Two suits materialized as I arrived. "Miss Rosaline," one said smoothly, like they'd been expecting me. "You're late. The boss is waiting."
Every instinct screamed danger, but curiosity won. They escorted me to a penthouse where David's would-be client stood meekly beside another man—the leader of my would-be kidnappers. Both looked terrified of the figure lounging in a gray tailored suit.
The air turned arctic when Marcus Smith stood. I'd recognize that predatory grace anywhere—David's business rival, the man he could never outmaneuver.
"Rosaline." His voice was velvet wrapped around steel. "I've been expecting you."
"What do you want?" I kept my tone level.
His lips curved. "To apologize."
I shot a glare at the kidnapper. "For what exactly?"
"My men... misunderstood instructions." His glacial stare made the other man flinch. Then that mysterious smile returned. "But I think you'll like my proposal."
"Which is?"
"Partnership." His gaze locked onto mine like a predator sighting prey.
Without a second thought about my career, he scribbled his approval on my resignation and slid the paper across the desk. I picked it up, cool as ice. "Thanks, David. Guess this is goodbye then."
His expression darkened. I saw the question forming on his lips—what did I mean by that? But he bit it back, assuming I only meant professionally. I didn't bother clarifying.
As I left his office, I caught his excited phone call: "Promote Cinthia effective immediately—she's taking Rosaline's position. Throw her a surprise party tonight."
I smirked bitterly. Of course he'd be thrilled—with me out of the picture, he could screw his secretary without looking over his shoulder.
Back home, my belongings barely filled a carry-on. Eight years together, and what did I have to show for it? Not a single keepsake from happier times. Maybe that was for the best—no souvenirs meant no painful memories.
I tried calling David one last time. Predictably, no answer. Just as I was hanging up, Cinthia's breathy voice purred through the receiver: "Rosaline... David's in no shape to talk. Had a bit too much at my party—passed out in my bed." A wet smack of lips made my stomach turn. "Don't worry, I'll take real good care of him."
"Keep him," I said evenly, then ended the call.
With two hours until my flight, I couldn't stand being in that house. A business card slipped from my pocket—no company name, just an address. Before I could second-guess it, I was in a cab heading downtown.
Two suits materialized as I arrived. "Miss Rosaline," one said smoothly, like they'd been expecting me. "You're late. The boss is waiting."
Every instinct screamed danger, but curiosity won. They escorted me to a penthouse where David's would-be client stood meekly beside another man—the leader of my would-be kidnappers. Both looked terrified of the figure lounging in a gray tailored suit.
The air turned arctic when Marcus Smith stood. I'd recognize that predatory grace anywhere—David's business rival, the man he could never outmaneuver.
"Rosaline." His voice was velvet wrapped around steel. "I've been expecting you."
"What do you want?" I kept my tone level.
His lips curved. "To apologize."
I shot a glare at the kidnapper. "For what exactly?"
"My men... misunderstood instructions." His glacial stare made the other man flinch. Then that mysterious smile returned. "But I think you'll like my proposal."
"Which is?"
"Partnership." His gaze locked onto mine like a predator sighting prey.
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