10 rules of a Secretary chapter 70

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“Seonyul. Whatever kind of night I spend with a sex partner, it’s none of your business.”

“That’s…”

“Or…”

The CEO paused for a moment, then whispered softly into my ear.

“Are you jealous?”

A brief flicker of light sparked in my mind, only to extinguish just as quickly.

The leaf that had been tickling my knee crept deeper, brushing against my skin.

I couldn’t quite grasp how things ended.

Or whether they ended at all.

I stood there like a mindless puppet with a screw loose, moving only when the CEO spoke.

If he asked me to fetch documents, I fetched them; if he wanted my opinion, I gave it—like a robot.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my house.

After blinking once, I found myself sitting across from Cha Chiyeon. I pulled at my tie with one hand, letting out a deep sigh.

That’s when Cha Chiyeon asked me.

“Why are you sighing so much? You’re paying off your debt just fine.”

“…That’s the problem.”

She let out a short hum and then threw another question at me.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering. What are you going to do once you’ve paid off all your debt?”

“I’m going to buy a house. No question about it, that’s the first thing I’ll do.”

“And once you have a house?”

“I’m going to quit everything and just live like a hermit.”

When I answered with determination, Cha Chiyeon looked a bit troubled.

She pursed her lips, as if lost in thought, before speaking cautiously.

“Just because you have a house doesn’t mean food will magically appear, right? Maybe you should keep working a little longer?”

What did that even mean?

I was already calculating when I could jump from the 32nd floor.

I glanced at Cha Chiyeon and gave a slight smirk.

“If I get caught by the CEO, I swear I’ll jump for real. Or I’ll quit.”

“….”

“Even if, by some miracle, things work out… I’ll still quit. I need a break. Even if it’s just for a week, I want to rest without thinking about anything.”

Since graduating from high school, I hadn’t taken a single day off.

I’d started by working construction jobs.

I tried looking into convenience stores or cafes, but the hourly wage was pretty much the same, so I ended up going back to construction.

Then I landed a job as CEO Han’s Secretary, which felt like life was finally going my way.

But remembering those hard times, I stopped myself. I could feel unnecessary thoughts creeping in.

Determined to block them out, I decided to share a bit of what had been weighing on my mind with Cha Chiyeon.

Just a little.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about a friend.”

“You have other friends besides me?”

Ugh, seriously.

Annoyed, I snapped back, and Cha Chiyeon shrugged, tipping her beer can.

I blinked to focus, and her perfectly radiant face filled my vision.

Her cheeks, once troubled during every lingerie launch, were now smooth and shiny.

She looked every bit the well-fed, well-rested rich person. I couldn’t even muster a smile.

“So… my friend became a sex partner with their boss.”

“Wow, is that the plot for a drama airing next week? Who’s the writer? What about the cast?”

Not a drama next week—it was a weekend drama that started three weeks ago.

No writer, just Han Doha and Seonyul.

The short, intimate play had only the two of them as actors, CEOs, and crew.

I was suddenly relieved I hadn’t told Cha Chiyeon anything about my life outside of modeling.

“But here’s the thing… their boss, who they’ve worked with for five years, doesn’t recognize who the sex partner is.”

“Wow, I smell a masterpiece in the making. So what happens next?”

“They had half their face covered—here, like this, covering their mouth and nose…”

I explained it, skirting the truth a bit, covering my own mouth and nose with my hand.

Watching Cha Chiyeon’s intrigued expression twisted something inside me.

This wasn’t a drama.

It was real.

“So their boss didn’t recognize them and treated the sex partner like gold, but treats their subordinate like trash every day.”

“If you’re going to write a script, at least make it believable. Just put a mole under their eye or something. Five years together, and they wouldn’t even recognize them from just their hands?”

“…It wasn’t the hands. Maybe the face, but not the hands. And… I looked it up, and there’s actually a study about it. From England. If you cover half the face, even close friends or lovers might not recognize them…”

When I first heard those words from the CEO, I thought it was impossible.

Like someone possessed, I searched online, and I found a paper—an English study from Bangor University.

They experimented with 30 men and women, and about 90% couldn’t recognize someone when half their face was covered.

As I was thinking about the paper, Cha Chiyeon burst into laughter, banging the table with her palm.

Was this really funny?

I didn’t think there was any punchline.

“England?”

“…Yeah.”

She laughed even harder at my serious reply, waving her hand and nodding.

“Sure, whatever. England. But what about the voice? How do you explain that?”

“They don’t talk much… only here and there… and only when their voice is hoarse.”

Cha Chiyeon took another sip of beer and then spoke again, after a short hum.

“Then there’s only two possibilities.”

“Two?”

“They don’t know, or they’re pretending not to know.”

“But if they don’t know, they don’t know. Why pretend?”

After finishing her beer, Cha Chiyeon wiped her lips with the back of her hand and replied.

“You think someone’s going to act like they know after sleeping with a subordinate they’ve worked with for five years? If it were me, I’d pretend not to know until the end. Just imagine knowing. I’d bungee jump off the 63 Building with no cord.”

“…But if they’re pretending not to know, why treat them so well?”

“Well, in that case, it’s obvious.”

Cha Chiyeon crushed her empty beer can and tossed it into the recycling bin.

With a clatter, she shouted “Nice!” before standing up.

The sound of her chair scraping the floor briefly filled the air, then disappeared.

“They really like the person but don’t want a deep relationship with them. Or maybe they really don’t know. But how can they not know? Five years together? Just a nod, and they’d know everything.”

“Maybe… they really don’t know.”

“Yeah, maybe. If they’ve never paid any attention to their subordinate in five years. Or maybe they’re just playing along.”

I found myself fidgeting, lowering my head, feeling a sudden pang at the thought that someone might not care at all.

Sensing my mood, Cha Chiyeon tapped the table gently with her fingers.

When I looked up, she had a more serious expression than I’d ever seen.

“I know you think nothing matters except money, and I know you don’t trust people. But you still have a good sense of judgment. Do you remember that time when you told me about your parents while you were drunk?”

There was no way.

Talking about my parents was a topic I avoided.

When I shook my head, Cha Chiyeon smiled knowingly.

“You said if they had been around, your life would have been different.”

“…”

“You said it’s terrifying to trust anyone. That even if you trust someone, in the end, no one will stay.”

I didn’t remember saying it, but it was true.

When my parents left me, when I was left alone in this world, that’s what I thought.

That no one would be with me at the end of my life.

“It’s kind of sad to be scared of something without even trying. That’s why you don’t have friends. Anyway, just wash up and go to sleep. You’ve got work tomorrow.”

With that casual remark, Cha Chiyeon headed off, saying she needed to go raid.

Soon, the sound of her smashing her keyboard echoed through the room, accompanied by curses like, “Block that, you idiot!” and “You bastard!”

Sitting still at the dining table, I slowly blinked, replaying the words left behind by Cha Chiyeon, before eventually moving into the room.

“Trusting someone…”

To be exact, it wasn’t that I was scared—it was more that I fell on the side of not wanting to trust anyone.

I had already experienced enough betrayal when it came to trust and faith, and no one understood better than I did the expiration date of cheap emotions.

A sigh escaped me.

I hastily kicked off my socks and squirmed under the blankets, curling into a ball.

A future where no one remains.

Without reason, Han Doha came to mind.

That man who told me I was beautiful at every moment, rubbed the knot of tension in my stomach, and patted my back.

At the same time, I doubted.

Did he really not know who I was when he was so good to me?

And if he did know, why on earth would he do that?

I kept thinking about the two scenarios Cha Chiyeon had mentioned.

Feigning ignorance. This happens when you don’t want a deep relationship with someone.

Genuinely unaware. This happens when you have absolutely no interest in a subordinate.

Honestly, if CEO Han really knew the truth, he should’ve cut ties with me already and thrown legal papers my way, draining me to the bone.

Given that he hadn’t done so, I could safely rule out option one.

Besides, who would constantly tell someone they’re beautiful while pretending not to know them?

And right to their face, no less.

So, does that mean it’s option two for me?

Even that made me feel sick. A clueless boss, treating a subordinate with affection without even knowing who they really are—what a fool.

I couldn’t tell whether I should be happy or sad that CEO Han wasn’t interested in “Seonyul” as a person.

Suddenly, the suit I was wearing and the watch clinging to my wrist felt unbearably heavy.

I had half a mind to rip off the watch and throw it across the room, but instead, I carefully placed it on the table, folding my hands together.

Lying there, kicking at the bed with my feet, I felt frustrated that I couldn’t even recklessly throw a watch worth less than a fraction of my salary.

“So why is he being so good to me…?”

Objectively, it should make me happy, but for some reason, it pissed me off.

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