Page 5 of Please, Forgive Me
I felt strangely relieved to see Maria Gabriela acting just like always.
We’d had… an eventful night over the weekend, and I half-expected it to complicate things at the office. Apparently, I was wrong. She mattered to me. Professionally, of course.
Except for Saturday. That had been purely physical.
Mistakes happen.
Maria Gabriela was twenty-five, and for almost five years she’d been my chief secretary. Honestly, I could say without her, half of what happened at Amacel Corporation wouldn’t even be possible. And yes, that had everything to do with me—because I hired her, I shaped her.
When she first started, she was just another recent graduate with big dreams and a hunger to learn. I probably could’ve pushed her harder if I hadn’t been so consumed with my own ambitions.
But now… now she was flawless. Every detail of my schedule, every movement in the company went through her before it ever reached me.
I trained her well.
Maria Gabriela knew exactly how I liked things done. And even though she tried to hide it, I knew she was proud of it—proud of her growth, of what she had become.
An exceptional professional, meticulous, with that personal touch that made her indispensable.
And if we’re being honest, I’d never let her go. Not today, not tomorrow.
Of course, that evolution had everything to do with the environment I created.
My creation. My empire. The giant of technology in Brazil—maybe even Latin America.
A company my twin brother, Alexandre, and I built from scratch, with sweat, strategy, and—naturally—a lot of intelligence. We specialized in telecommunications and mobile networks, building infrastructure for 5G services and high-speed internet. Our clients ranged from massive corporations to governments, and our influence stretched across the entire country.
People liked to say getting here was pure luck. But no—it was years of insane dedication, sleepless nights, and choices most wouldn’t dare to make.
And me? I was the cold heart of the operation. The brain that kept it running.
Alexandre was the charismatic one, the public face. I preferred the shadows. Let people believe what they wanted while I kept the machine moving.
Yes, I’m a narcissist. Yes, I’m demanding.
But nobody could deny the results. And Maria Gabriela was part of those results. Not just efficient—efficient my way, because I made her that way.
Funny thing was, over the years she’d developed this sharp edge, the ability to push back, to provoke me—like we were locked in some endless dance of power.
And I liked it.
Very few dared to challenge me. She did. And she seemed to enjoy it. Which was ironic, considering that underneath it all, she was fiercely loyal.
Maybe that loyalty was what fascinated me most.
But now, after Saturday… I needed to keep things under control. Because no matter how much I told myself it was just a slip—a moment of weakness—I couldn’t allow it to interfere with our professional rhythm.
I don’t mix business with anything else. Never have. And I wasn’t about to start now. Maria Gabriela was essential, and any complication between us could put at risk everything we’d built.
Everything I had shaped.
That was my narcissism talking again. I should rein it in… or not.
I left my office, determined to keep control—or at least look like I had it. With a stack of papers in hand, I walked to Maria Gabriela’s desk. She was focused, eyes glued to the monitor, and for a second I almost felt guilty interrupting her.
Almost.
With a wicked smile I knew she hated, I dropped the pile of documents on her desk with a soft thud that echoed across the room. She lifted her eyes slowly, not even bothering to hide her irritation.
