Chapter 20: job offer

When the maid told me that Diego was calling for me, I felt my entire spine freeze. My hands began trembling uncontrollably. This could only mean one thing. He had selected me for the job. Oh my God. What am I going to do now?

I tightened my grip on the doorframe, trying to steady myself, then nodded at the maid.

"Okay, thanks. I will be there in a minute," I told her quietly.

The moment she turned away, I locked the door and rested my back against it. My mind was at the bridge of explosion. How am I supposed to face him now? How do I stand in front of Diego Martinez after what happened the previous night? The thought alone made my chest tighten painfully.

I could not stand his eyes, the way they stared directly into my soul, like he could read every hidden part of me. If I went into that office, memories from last night would flood my mind in waves. My shame, my desire, my confusion, everything. Shit.

Still, I forced my legs to move. Walking through the long hallway that led to his office, I rubbed my palms together, trying to wipe away the sweat gathering from sheer nervousness. My hands were shaking so badly it felt like the bones inside were rattling.

The question tormenting me now was simple but terrifying. How am I going to face him? How am I going to look into his eyes and pretend everything is normal? How can I work beside someone I had slept with? Everything would be awkward. Painfully awkward.

Imagine acting like a professional secretary for a man whose body you had already felt. A man who had seen and touched you in ways an employer should never know. My stomach twisted violently.

I lifted my eyes and saw a tall iron black door standing out among all the others. It was unique, heavy, and intimidating, just like him. A security guard stood at the entrance, straight and alert. The moment he saw me approaching, he pointed toward the door without saying a word, silently confirming that this was where Diego was waiting.

My heart skipped a full beat.

I nodded anxiously. "Thank you," I whispered.

I inhaled deeply, trying to gather whatever courage I had left, and knocked. To my shock, the door opened automatically with a soft mechanical click, making me freeze in place. This man had doors that opened by themselves. Seriously?

I stepped inside slowly.

There he was.

Diego Martinez sat behind a massive polished desk, looking majestic and effortlessly powerful. His legs were crossed with elegant confidence, and his eyes were glued to the papers in his hand. He did not look at me, but I knew he was aware of my presence. He always was.

The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing a glimpse of his tattooed chest. I could swear I forgot how to breathe. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, effortlessly perfect, and I felt my whole body react in the worst possible way. My breath hitched. My thighs squeezed together involuntarily. My pussy throbbed from nothing but the sight of him.

He did not even raise his head.

"Miss Lyla, sit," he commanded in a deep, calm, powerful tone that vibrated straight through me.

My soul froze. Slowly, without looking at him, I sat down in the chair facing him, my head bowed, my cheeks burning with a mixture of shame and something dangerously close to longing.

Finally, he dropped the document onto the table. The sound made me flinch. Then he lifted his eyes and looked directly at me.

I immediately looked down again, heart pounding, unable to handle the weight of his gaze.

"After thinking it through," he began, his tone unreadable, "I have decided to take you as my secretary."

My breath caught. I nodded quickly and murmured, "Thank you."

My voice sounded so tiny, but at least it was audible.

"As my secretary," he continued, leaning forward slightly, his hands intertwined on the table, "there are rules you must follow. If you do not follow them, you will be fired. And when I say fired, I mean fired for life. To the extent that you will not be able to work in any office or company in this entire state."

I stiffened.

What?

Was his company some kind of oath? Why would getting fired here mean the end of my entire career? It did not make sense. But I did not have the courage to ask, not when his eyes were on me, not when I could barely breathe around him.

"Are you okay with that, Miss Lyla?" he asked, voice smooth but cold.

I nodded quickly. I did not have the energy for questions or long talks. All I wanted was to get out of this suffocating room and try to calm my heartbeat.

"Yes, I am okay with it, sir," I whispered.

The air between us was so awkward that it felt painful. Thick. Heavy. Electric in a dangerous way.

Suddenly he shifted through some documents and handed me a stack of papers. I reached out to take them, my fingers brushing his for a second, and my stomach dropped.

"So you will resume work on Monday. Your monthly pay will be four hundred thousand dollars."

Time stopped.

Four hundred thousand.

My mind went blank. Was this a joke? Was the universe playing with me? Four hundred thousand dollars every month? That kind of money could change everything. That kind of money could take care of my mother, rescue her from Ellie and her disgusting custody games. That money could buy a house, a car, everything I had never dreamed of having. That money was life changing. Insane.

I stared down at the document. The headline read: Secretary Rules for Working for Martinez Company.

At that moment, I did not even care about awkwardness or embarrassment. The money was too unbelievable. Too huge. I would memorize the whole book if I had to. I would glue every rule to my brain and follow it with my entire soul. I was going to resume work on Monday. That was final.

The document was thick, but I did not care. I would study it. I would obey every rule. I would work smoothly and keep myself under control.

Diego’s cold voice broke through my thoughts.

"You can leave. Study the rules. Memorize them. And make sure you do not break them."

I nodded obediently. "Yes, sir. Thank you for offering me this job. I will try my best to become the best."

Then I stood up quickly and practically fled the room.

As soon as I reached my room, I slammed the door shut and collapsed weakly onto the bed. I tossed the documents to the side and tried to breathe. Being in the same room with him was not easy. It took everything in me to keep my composure, and thank God I did.

I sat up after a few minutes and dragged the documents toward me again.

At least I was getting a job. A real job. A job that paid four hundred thousand every month. I would keep myself together for that amount of money.

I spent three full hours flipping through the pages, memorizing rule after rule. Some were strict, some were weird, some were harsh, but I pushed through because the money was worth it.

But the final rule made my blood run cold.

Do not mess with Diego Martinez.

My heart thumped slowly as I stared at the words. This was no simple warning. This was a threat. A promise. A line that should never be crossed.

And yet the memory of last night whispered in my mind like a dangerous sin.

What if I had already crossed it?