Page 4 of Please, Forgive Me
I knew he wasn’t actually worried about my clothes. He just liked to provoke me. He did it every single day—a ritual of light but relentless torture.
Diego chuckled, that low, husky sound that made my stomach flip without my permission.
Damn it.
I hated when he laughed like that. It was far too charming for someone so impossible.
“I’m just saying…” he stepped closer, slipping his hands into the pockets of his impeccably pressed slacks, watching me work, “you know I prefer when you’re not wearing something quite so… distracting.”
“Oh, sure. Totally my fault, isn’t it?” I arched a brow, finally meeting his eyes again. “Maybe if you spent more time on your work and less on me, your life would be a whole lot easier.”
His smile widened, amusement lighting his expression.
Diego might have been impossible, but he was sharp. He knew exactly what he was doing—and the worst part was, so did I.
As much as I wanted to walk away from Amacel Corporation—his company—he had a way of making that feel almost impossible.
He was the kind of boss who never let anything slide, and I knew that behind all the teasing there was something more. Maybe a need for control.
Or maybe he just liked seeing me push back.
“My life’s already too easy,” he said with a smirk. “But you definitely make it more interesting.”
“Great, Diego. That’s exactly what I live for—being the highlight of your day while I drown in endless papers and emails. Now, if you don’t mind…” I lifted one of the documents for emphasis, “I’ve got a meeting to prep.”
He laughed again, shaking his head slightly, but let it drop. He returned to his desk with that confident stride he loved to flaunt, as if the whole world belonged to him. And, in a way, it did—at least this world.
Diego and his twin brother, Alexandre, owned everything here. Every decision, every strategic move, passed through them.
And me? I was just the secretary making sure the chaos stayed in check. It wasn’t my company, but I knew that if Iwanted to, I could learn enough to start something of my own someday.
Lately, though, it had been hard to keep work and Diego separate.
Not exactly healthy.
Which was probably why I’d started thinking about moving on. Even if the paycheck was solid and the experience was priceless, I knew mixing business with… whatever this was… never ended well. And with Diego, those lines blurred more every day.
Yeah… little by little, I was falling for my boss. And knowing how he was—with life, with women—I really should get out and find a job that didn’t get in my way.
I sighed.
So, another day of thinly veiled barbs and crooked smiles. Sometimes it felt like we’d been doing this for decades, not just a handful of years.
The most irritating part was that, behind all the arrogance and razor-sharp wit, Diego could actually be funny. He knew how to make me laugh, even when I swore I wouldn’t.
The truth was, as much as he drove me insane, part of me already knew I’d miss these provocations the day I finally walked away.
But for now, here I was. Secretary to a gorgeous, impossible boss. Ready for another round of battles disguisedas work. And deep down, maybe I liked it more than I cared to admit.
Still, I wasn’t backing down. Thirty more days—and then I’d be free.
Him and the debts, both.
CHAPTER 2
“Dreams can be postponed, but never forgotten…”
DIEGO BITTENCOURT
