10 rules of a Secretary chapter 96

* * *

His thumb still grazed over my nipple, its touch subtle but persistent.

Through the thin shirt, my hardened nipple stood out, painfully visible.

My face burned with embarrassment.

I tried to pull away, but his arm held my waist tightly, making it hard to escape.

While I frantically scanned the surroundings, Doha remained as composed as ever, his expression unchanged.

“It would look nice if I nibbled and sucked on it through your shirt, don’t you think?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with mischief.

“Your lips.”

“CEO, this is workplace harassment!”

“Mm, then give me a kiss.”

This guy, really…

With a reluctant glance at the door, I placed my hand on his chest and leaned in.

Our lips met briefly, parted, then pressed together again.

When I opened my mouth and timidly reached out my tongue, he immediately took control, devouring me.

As we kissed, one of Doha’s hands trailed slowly down my back, while the other teased my nipple through the fabric.

My body shivered with arousal, but I forced myself to hold back.

Not long after, our lips parted, and all that remained was my ragged breathing.

“I’m…going to report you.”

“Go ahead, report me all you want.”

He chuckled, pulling me close by my tie and giving me another quick kiss before straightening my disheveled clothes.

“I want to clear my schedule and laze around the house all year.”

“Tomorrow afternoon, you have lunch with the Chairman and a personal request to meet with Mr. Jungha.”

“Cancel it all. None of those meetings benefit me. And Jungha? That pest, even after his engagement was called off, is still a nuisance.”

“…I suggest at least attending the luncheon with the Chairman, given the clothing business’s importance.”

“I said, cancel it.”

His voice held a tinge of irritation, and I hesitated briefly, wondering if I should override his decision, before responding.

“I’ll handle Mr. Jungha as you instructed.”

Apparently satisfied, Doha pulled my wrist, giving a quick kiss on my palm before brushing his cheek against it.

His gaze held an intensity I found hard to handle.

---

Standing in front of Daewon Group’s entrance, I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to steady my anxious heart.

It was a simple gesture, but it offered a bit of comfort.

The lingering warmth of Doha’s hand on my palm felt like it was gradually easing my uneasiness.

After canceling the appointments, I received an odd response—both the Chairman and Jungha demanded to see me in person.

While the Chairman calmly suggested a face-to-face discussion, Jungha reacted with a tirade, ordering me to come at once.

I had no power to resist such demands; all I could do was agree to meet them.

The Chairman’s response, at least, wasn’t too harsh.

Just as I steeled myself to move forward, someone grabbed my arm and yanked me roughly, making me stagger.

After a couple of forced steps, I looked up and recognized a familiar face with a fierce glint in his eyes.

“What the… what are you doing?”

“It’s you. It was you. Damn it… It was you.”

The man, muttering with a deranged look, was none other than the ex-boyfriend of a former coworker I had briefly met at a wedding.

I tried to push him off, but his grip on my collar was relentless.

“Damn…!”

“This is all your fault. Your damn fault! Getting involved with someone like you… it was all your doing! You did this, didn’t you? Admit it, damn it!”

How was his divorce my fault?

Anyone could tell it was due to his own temper.

My thoughts barely formed before he looked at me with a twisted grin, his expression so menacing it sent chills down my spine.

“No… that doesn’t matter… Damn it, but still, this isn’t right. What did you do behind the scenes to mess things up?”

Repulsed by his close breath, I jerked my arm violently to shake him off.

“Damn it, get away!”

“What’s going on here?”

Security guards appeared just in time, allowing me to break free from his grip.

I quickly entered the lobby.

Through the large glass doors, I could see the man being held back by the guards, his eyes blazing with rage as he glared at me.

I instinctively took a step back and hurriedly left the lobby like someone escaping danger.

I thought I caught a glimpse of CEO Han in passing, but escaping the scene took priority, so I didn’t take a closer look.

As I sat down, the delicate sound of tea clinking in a cup filled the room.

The ripples from the tea’s edge met in the middle, hitting the cup’s wall repeatedly. Instead of the stern scolding I anticipated, the Chairman suggested we have tea together.

For over half an hour, the only sounds in the room were the clink of the teacup and the tea being poured.

My mind drifted back to the sharp words I had received at the last party and the irritation in his voice when he demanded to see Doha’s schedule.

Should I apologize for that?

Should I say, “I’m sorry for working closely with your son”? Or maybe, “I’m sorry for not understanding your son’s quirks?”

I held my tongue, stifling the unspoken words that piled up inside.

“So, you’ve managed a private meeting with me. Eight years is not a short time, after all.”

I looked up at the man who had crossed his long legs after a brief pause.

Han Taewon, Chairman of Daewon Group.

Despite his stark white hair, his face appeared youthful enough to be in his early forties.

It was hard to believe he managed two sons, two wives, and countless subsidiaries under his command.

Since I’d usually only ever looked down when meeting him, this was the first time I studied his face in detail.

The moment felt strangely unfamiliar.

“I hope you’ve been well, Chairman.”

“Do you even have the nerve to ask? You, standing next to my son as his secretary, failing to manage him properly—is that something I should overlook?”

“I apologize.”

“Not just him, you act just like Doha, too.”

I paused, debating if I should apologize again, then bowed my head obediently.

Out of the eight years I’ve worked here, we spent all but 40 days together.

I’ve spent more time with him than with my own parents. It’s been long—recently, in more ways than one.

“To the point, then… I owe you an apology. Someone in my position rarely needs to apologize, but about that party—it was wrong of me.”

“….”

“I thought we should talk face-to-face, but Doha had to make it difficult by sticking to you all the time.”

So, he’s aware I’m practically tethered to Doha. Hearing it spelled out brought a bitter taste to my mouth.

“Sometimes, in my position, it’s hard to gauge where I stand. Am I soaring above the clouds or plummeting to the ground?”

Without meaning to, I looked over to the secretary quietly standing behind him.

The man had served by the Chairman’s side for almost 40 years.

He may have moved to an office role now, but the passage of time didn’t erase that long history.

He shrugged his shoulders and, with a familiar ease, poured tea into the chairman’s empty teacup, saying nonchalantly, “Even if you fall, Chairman, you’ve got dozens of parachutes strapped on. What’s there to worry about?”

“…Well, that’s true.”

The chairman took another sip from his refilled cup, glanced at me, and spoke.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Do what you like with the breakfast meeting tomorrow; I only set it up because it’s hard to see my son these days. But I never expected him to actually show.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Do you know why I tried pairing you, a nobody, with that son of mine?”

Even at this abrupt comment, I remained calm and listened.

“A nobody” hardly matched how he’d defended me at the last party.

He’d gone on about what a perfect match I was for Doha, then scolded me for supposedly ruining it.

Remembering that day, I quietly shook my head.

“…How could I ever guess at the depth of your intentions, Chairman? Please enlighten me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Your tongue’s oiled, I see. Is it just a side effect of staying a secretary for so long, or are you both just that glib?”

The chairman set down his teacup with a faint, disapproving sound and leaned back on the sofa, exhaling softly.

“I thought, if I kept pushing, he’d show his true intentions at least once. My guess was mostly right, I suppose. But thinking it over, instead of exhausting myself trying to sell him off at a high price, I figured it was better to steer him toward someone he’s already interested in. The company won’t collapse just because he doesn’t marry into another conglomerate family, and he’s doing a good job.”

The chairman tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his knee as he looked at me with a glimmer of nostalgia etched into his aged face.

He chuckled softly, then said, “Seeing him driven by a clear goal—it’s nice. Don’t you think so, Secretary Seon?”

* * *