10 rules of a Secretary chapter 73

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“…You realize that’s an insult to mint chocolate fans worldwide, right?’’

Is this about “mint chocolate saves the world” or something like that?

I widened my eyes, surprised he knew such internet slang.

Over the course of today — no, in less than two hours — Han Doha kept showing me sides of him I didn’t know.

“CEO Han, where did you hear that…?’’

“How old do you think I am?’’

His indignant response made me realize something: this man was younger than me.

When we were in the hotel, the way he spoke made the age gap seem more apparent, but I barely noticed it otherwise.

I nodded quietly and helped him prepare dinner.

“It’s been a while, so I’m not sure how it’ll taste. Since it’s late, I thought pasta would be the quickest option..”

The carbonara pasta on the plate in front of me looked quite different from what I was used to.

There was no cream sauce, giving it a simpler appearance. I bowed my head slightly as CEO Han sat across from me.

“Thank you. I should’ve been the one cooking, but you did it instead. I’ll take care of the meals from tomorrow”

“I didn’t think it was something to stress over. We’re on vacation, and during vacation, there shouldn’t be any hierarchy, right?’’

That statement insulted every office worker in the country.

No hierarchy on vacation?

You might as well say a grad student could slap their professor during summer break.

“Then, CEO Han, shouldn’t you call me hyung? I’m two years older than you”

“Sure, Seonyul hyung”

This guy… I playfully patted my cheek with the back of my hand.

‘Thanks, CEO Han Doha.’

Suppressing my irritation, I twirled some pasta on my fork and took a bite.

To my surprise, the pasta was perfectly cooked, the rich and savory flavor lingering on my tongue.

The ingredients seemed to be nothing but egg yolk, yet the taste was incredible.

Did he really make this?

Skeptical, I twirled more pasta and took another bite.

As I chewed, I found myself nodding, unconsciously tapping my foot. His voice cut through my thoughts.

“Looks like you like it”

“Yes. Where did you learn to cook? I honestly didn’t expect you to know how. It’s a surprise”

“I learned to cook while traveling through remote mountain regions. Back then, cooking wasn’t a hobby, it was a necessity. Now, I only do it occasionally.”

Remote mountain regions?

Please.

There are people willing to tie your shoelaces if you just call for them.

Of course, I’m the one who would tie them. I let Han’s words go in one ear and out the other.

“This is way too delicious for ‘survival’ cooking. You didn’t learn this somewhere special?”

As I grabbed my glass, Han tapped the table lightly with his fingers before responding.

“I did learn authentic pasta from a neighbor during my time abroad.”

“You could open a pasta restaurant.”

I absentmindedly speared a piece of bacon, chewing it slowly with a smile creeping onto my face. This is really good.

It made me realize that the carbonaras I’ve had so far were all fake.

Authentic pasta—it was such a luxury.

“Well, I doubt anyone else will get to try my cooking from now on.”

“It’s an honor.”

It was something I said so often that it had no real meaning.

I hummed quietly as I took another bite of pasta, savoring it.

Seriously, this is delicious.

Twirling my fork around the noodles, I glanced out at the sea where the sun was setting, but my breath caught when I saw the reflection of a man in the window.

His gaze was fixed solely on me, as though watching something utterly adorable. His eyes softened at the edges as he looked at me.

Gripping my fork tighter, I stared back at his reflection.

My heart began to pound louder and louder.

The waves crashing against the cliffs below echoed through the air.

They relentlessly hurled themselves against the rocks, as if their persistence would eventually carve a path through.

The grass that had grown ankle-high was soft underfoot.

In the distance, a solitary white lighthouse stood, and nearby cows lazily grazed on the pasture.

It was a peaceful, quiet countryside scene.

The salty sea breeze carried a familiar scent to my nose.

Or maybe it was just a little different?

The smell in the hotel had been softer, I think…

The wind gently brushed through my hair, tickling my ears.

It was a leisurely, lazy afternoon.

The weather was perfect, with not a cloud in the endless blue sky.

Lying in the hammock, I half-closed the book I was reading and let my drowsy eyes fall shut.

It had been five days since I arrived here, and I’d been enjoying this luxurious yet slightly uncomfortable vacation.

CEO Han had taken on most of the cooking.

One day, I mustered up the courage to make egg-fried rice, but after hearing him say I should never attempt something like that again, I retired the pan.

Honestly… he was much better at it than I was, so I just accepted it quietly.

At first, I flinched every time he called my name, but I eventually got used to it.

People really are creatures of habit.

Other than that, there wasn’t much else.

I was taking my meds on time, and it seemed like I’d just have to get through this quiet month.

Every now and then, I’d ask when we’d start working, and Han would just smile.

“It’s vacation. Just enjoy it.”

The gentle sea breeze caressed my skin.

I covered my eyes with my arm and yawned lightly.

Napping on a hammock swaying in the breeze—it was practically paradise.

The rhythmic motion woke me briefly, but I let my eyes fall closed again.

The sound of gravel crunching underfoot and the distant waves felt like part of a dream.

Something firm wrapped around me protectively, but I was too dazed to notice.

“Ugh…”

It felt oddly uncomfortable yet somehow secure.

I let out a whiny groan, and the swaying stopped.

Then, a soft hand patted my back, like soothing a child.

My breathing calmed, and my mind drifted into deep sleep.

I liked the warm feeling against my cheek. I reached out, grabbing hold of the warmth and nuzzling against it.

A quiet sigh came from above, and the arm around my waist tightened. I nuzzled more, exhaling deeply.

It was so warm and comforting.

Maybe because I’d been outside until sunset, my skin felt chilly.

That’s probably why the warmth felt extra good.

I pushed aside the fabric against my palm and snuggled deeper into the warmth.

At the same time, I felt pressure against my hips and waist.

It felt oddly satisfying, like fitting into place.

Maybe it was the familiar scent.

Smiling contentedly, I slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

“…Your sleeping habits are just… damn…”

I vaguely heard a muttered curse, but it didn’t register in my mind.

I just kept burrowing deeper into his warmth, as if afraid it might disappear.

---

Suddenly, I woke up in the middle of the night.

I blinked, slowly taking in my surroundings before groggily sitting up.

It was only 8 o’clock. I had taken my meds around 3 a.m., so it was almost time for the next dose.

My stomach churned as I swallowed the suppressants without water, and I curled up in pain.

“Ugh…”

It felt like I was being wrung out.

My insides burned as if I’d swallowed a hot coal.

I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the bed sheets tightly.

After a long while, the pain finally subsided, and I let out a shaky breath.

I wiped the sticky sweat from my neck and sat on the edge of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees and pressing the back of my hand to my forehead.

A sigh escaped me.

I could feel it.

The meds weren’t supposed to have side effects, but I had taken double the recommended dosage for way too long.

It wasn’t just exhaustion making me sick.

The pain was getting worse, and a cold fear crept in that maybe I’d end up with a hole in my stomach or worse.

The bitter aftertaste of the meds lingered on my tongue, tasting strangely sweet.

I ran my tongue over my lips for a while before muttering under my breath.

“This damn life…”

Dad, where did all that money go?

You sold the house, buried your only son in debt—was it really that important to you?

Asking questions that would never be answered had become a habit.

I let out another sigh and staggered to my feet.

Since I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, I thought I might as well grab a drink.

When I opened the door, the house was silent.

The sound of the waves reached me clearly, probably because the door to the second-floor terrace was open.

I tiptoed down the hallway and cautiously descended the stairs.

The faint creaking made me hesitate, but I continued down, moving as stealthily as a thief.

There should be some cooking wine left in the kitchen…

I thought as I made my way to the cabinet.

Just as I started searching through the shelves, a voice startled me.

“What are you doing?”

“Holy—!”

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