10 rules of a Secretary chapter 83

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“They do. Their pheromones suffocate me when they’re trying to be seductive.”

“Then…”

He slammed the oil bottle down with a loud clink, sighing deeply as he approached.

Kneeling by my side, he gently pulled my arm out from under the sheets.

Rubbing his cheek against my palm like a puppy, he gazed up at me.

“Not you. At least you’re not like that, so don’t think that way.”

“What makes me different? I’m just a regular Omega, and I’m not even in the same league as the people you should be meeting…”

“You’ve always been the exception in everything.”

He kissed my palm, then wrapped the blanket around me again, telling me to wait just a little longer.

His kindness was enough to make me want to cry.

My heart pounded relentlessly.

I forced myself to ignore its frantic beating.

I couldn’t afford to have hope. I knew how these feelings would end.

I had learned that lesson painfully over a lifetime, watching my parents.

No, it couldn’t be. It mustn’t be.

I scooped up a spoonful of the freshly made vegetable porridge and put it into my mouth, chewing slowly.

It was seasoned just right and wasn’t too hot, making it easy to eat.

As I spun the spoon in my hand, I asked him a question.

“You’re really good at cooking, CEO. I’ve noticed it for a while now.”

“What’s with the ‘CEO’ title? How long are you going to keep calling me that?”

What else was I supposed to call him but ‘CEO’? I mouthed a ‘Why?’ and he pouted his lips, grumbling.

“I distinctly remember you calling my name before. Something about needing to pee.”

“Stop it!”

“Why? You said my name, Doha… when you needed the bathroom. If that’s the only time you’re going to call my name, then go to the bathroom with me from now on.”

This crazy bastard…

I froze with my spoon in hand, my face turning pale, then flushing red in real-time.

He stared at me for a moment before propping his chin on his hand and asking again.

“Can’t you call me by my name?”

His voice, unusually playful, softened with a smile.

“That would make me really happy.”

His long eyelashes fluttered every time he blinked, and my heart tightened painfully.

Just a few months ago, his expression meant nothing, but now, his handsome face seemed etched into my mind.

I opened and closed my mouth several times before finally managing to utter a word.

“Doha…”

“Yes, Yul hyung.”

A smile spread across his normally cold face, turning him into the warmest person in the world.

A shiver ran down my spine.

The way he looked at me so fully, my heart kept pounding harder.

Then he slipped his arm under my knees, pulling me into his lap.

“You’re doing well.”

“But…”

“No buts.”

He kissed my cheek with a soft peck, then gently took the spoon from my hand and fed me another bite of porridge.

“CEO, about dinner…”

“Name.”

“…”

A stubborn five-year-old would’ve been more obedient.

I lowered my gaze, hesitating before opening my mouth to avoid further mention of the bathroom incident.

“Doha, Doha nim.”

“Is this the Gojoseon era? They didn’t even talk like that back then.”

“…Doha-ya.”

“That sounds nice.”

He kissed my cheek again before giving me another spoonful of porridge.

After a long pause, I finally asked.

“What about your meal?”

“My secretary isn’t that slow at learning, is she? Or did your brain cells suffer from too much sex?”

Goddamn it… Every little trick had been exposed. Sighing, I muttered his name.

“Doha, what about your meal?”

“I’m feeding you.”

“Let’s eat together.”

“…To be honest, I don’t like vegetable porridge.”

I froze with my mouth open, a spoonful of porridge halfway to my mouth.

But hadn’t he eaten it just the other day?

I distinctly remembered us enjoying it together.

“But you ate it last time.”

“That was for you.”

“…Did you make it that time too?”

“I made breakfast too.”

It wasn’t a kitchen helper but Han Doha’s cooking.

Ever since I left Korea, I began seeing Han Doha differently.

Where had the man I once knew gone?

Was this person even really Han Doha, or was he a fake, wearing his skin?

Like a doppelgänger—someone with the same face but a different core.

That’s exactly how it felt.

After a while, as I sorted through my tangled thoughts, I finally nodded.

“Th-thank you?”

“Feels like I’m getting a forced thanks. Forget it. Eat up and then get some rest. Tomorrow we’re heading out to Charlottetown, so make sure you recover your energy.”

Come to think of it, how long had it been since I arrived here?

I must’ve spent over half of the month already.

I kept chewing the porridge, distracted by useless thoughts.

After the meal, contrary to my expectations of returning to my own room, I ended up having to sleep in his.

It seemed he never intended to leave me alone.

The future felt bleak.

---

When a lobster as small as Han Doha’s you-know-what arrived, I couldn’t shut my mouth.

How much would that be?

The price wasn’t listed, which meant it had to be expensive, right?

Was I even allowed to eat something like this?

Glancing over at the next table, I saw their lobster was about half the size of ours.

They, too, were looking at the massive lobster on our table with wide eyes.

Should I really be eating this?

As I stared at the appetizingly split lobster, full of doubt, Han Doha expertly peeled the meat and placed it on his plate.

He added sauce, potato salad, roasted asparagus, and perfectly grilled shrimp with butter.

“…Doha…are you planning to eat that all by yourself?”

“I’m giving it to the person who needs it more than I do.”

Is he talking about my stomach?

Well, it’s not like I could argue.

The company paid for it, and company money is also Han Doha’s money, so what could I say?

Just then, a sharp pain shot up from my lower back.

Ugh.

I held my back with one hand, trying to steady myself. It had hurt like it was going to break with every move I made.

After a few deep breaths, I finally calmed down and grabbed the edge of the table to stand up.

A cool breeze blew in from the sea.

Unlike the muggy wind in Korea, it was dry and carried a salty scent.

I fixed my disheveled hair and looked up.

Han Doha was already watching me.

I silently asked him, ‘What’s wrong?’ by rounding my lips, but he didn’t answer.

His eyes simply moved from my lips, to my waist, and then to my whitened fingertips.

“…What’s wrong?”

“Just struck by something.”

Is he saying he’s struck by how ugly I am?

Now that I think about it, Han Doha used to tell me I looked ugly all the time, but lately, he hadn’t been saying that.

I put on a thick face and smiled brightly.

“Struck by how good-looking I am?”

“Yeah.”

I expected a snarky retort, but the calm reply left me speechless.

Glancing at me, he neatly arranged the mountain of food in front of him.

“Eat. You’ve been looking forward to it, right?”

“Me? Not particularly…”

“PEI is famous for lobster. If you get a chance, we can try some other seafood too.”

As I blinked at his words, Han Doha cleared my empty plate and placed his own in front of me.

The plate was piled high with the lobster meat, potato, shrimp, and everything else he had carefully prepared earlier.

The silver utensils clinked loudly in his large hands.

In the distance, the cries of seagulls mixed with the sound of waves crashing.

The amber glow of the sunset gently covered Han Doha’s honey-colored hair.

The light filtered through the ends of his hair like a soft veil.

In that moment, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

The sunlight poured directly onto me.

“Doha.”

“What?”

His expression was hard to see because of the backlight.

Squinting, I lowered my gaze, only to notice a faint shadow fall across my face.

When I looked up, I saw his hand blocking the sun.

“Is it too bright? Maybe we should switch seats.”

“…No.”

Barely managing to say a word, I picked up a fork and looked down at the plate of neatly arranged lobster meat.

I didn’t even need a knife, it was so perfectly prepared.

Watching me pick up my fork, Han Doha finally began eating his portion.

A glance revealed his napkin was already dirty.

The stark contrast with my still-pristine white napkin, folded on my lap, made me chuckle.

Murmuring thanks again and again, I stabbed a cocktail shrimp and put it in my mouth.

The slightly bitter yet spicy taste was exquisite.

As I watched Han Doha dip his shrimp into chili sauce, I commented casually.

“Shrimp doesn’t really need sauce, does it?”

“It’s bland without it. The sauce makes it edible.”

“You have strange taste. Shrimp’s supposed to have a kick.”

“…What?”

The clatter of utensils falling from his hand echoed as they hit the table.

His eyes were wide open, staring at me in disbelief.

Smiling, I picked up another shrimp with my fork and twirled it.

“You don’t know how shrimp should taste. It’s all about the spicy kick, isn’t it?”

“You…you idiot! Spit it out!”

At his command, I reflexively swallowed. Han Doha’s face twisted in horror.

Without a second thought, he jumped up, scooped me up by my side, and ran towards the bathroom.

He forcefully pried my mouth open and washed it out with water, feeling me all over.

“What the hell…! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Are your throat or tongue swollen? Any stinging?”

“President, please calm d—”

“You had no idea you were allergic, did you, you idiot?!”

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