Devouring the Love of the Secretary

Bite 8 - The Mastermind

Will was slightly surprised to see his boss walking out of the penthouse alone and in a better mood than before. He didn't know what had happened in there, but it was a good thing because he didn't want to get scolded by the boss.

"Isn't Miss Irin seeing you off, boss?" he couldn't help but ask. Irin was the secretary, and even though she couldn't fly to Italy this time, she should at least see the boss off.

"She's resting. Don't let anyone disturb her. Tell Aunt Pan not to wake her up either."

"Is she unwell? Should I call a doctor?"

"Just fatigued," Plach replied briefly before leading his subordinates to the elevator, not giving Will a chance to ask more questions.

A slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth as he recalled the state of his beautiful secretary, who could barely stand because he had tormented her repeatedly. Plach had over an hour before heading to the airport, and he spent that time touching Irin until she was in tears, begging him to stop before she fainted.

What a woman, still beautiful even when emotional. The more emotional she got, with her flushed face and misty eyes, begging him to stop, the more he wanted to torment her repeatedly.

Will kept quiet even though he saw the boss smiling to himself. He didn't dare to ask, only guessing that Miss Irin must have pleased the boss greatly.

Little did Will know how spot-on his guess was.

Plach slipped his hand into his pocket, thinking of his plan to leave a lingering impression on the innocent woman's body. Even though he was far away, he wouldn't let Irin forget his presence.

When he returned, he wouldn't let her go again.

.

.

Irin dozed off on the sofa until sunset. She shifted her slender body to relieve the stiffness, looking around the silent penthouse with the lights still on. She glanced at the blanket covering her lower body and pressed her lips together lightly.

"Mischievous."

He tormented her until she couldn't get up and then left abruptly, leaving a burning sensation and tantalizing touch on her body. Even though he wasn't there, she could still remember every place his mischievous fingers had touched. Plach wasn't someone easy to deal with; compared to him, she was just a naive girl.

"Miss Irin, are you awake?"

The maid responsible for taking care of the penthouse greeted the beautiful secretary. She had brought the staff in to clean about half an hour after the boss left. Seeing Irin sleeping comfortably on the sofa in the living room, she didn't dare to wake her, letting her rest and moving on to clean other areas first.

"Auntie, you are..."

"Oh, I'm the housekeeper here. My name is Pan. You can just call me Auntie Pan, Ms. Irin."

"Okay, Auntie Pan."

The housekeeper, who was in her fifties, smiled broadly. At first, she was a bit tense because the secretary of the young master was so beautiful, she assumed she must be very arrogant. But after a short conversation, she could see that Irin wasn't arrogant at all.

She seemed even more charming than expected.

The senior housekeeper smiled widely. At least working today gave her an interesting story to tell the lady.

In fact, Pan was not just an ordinary housekeeper. She was the nanny of the young master, having raised Pholachsince he was a baby. When the young man moved out to live here, she volunteered to follow and take care of him. However, Pholachwanted to live alone, so he allowed her to come and go, permitting her to bring the maids to clean only when he wasn't around.

"Ms. Irin, would you like to rest some more? The kids have finished cleaning your bedroom."

"No, thank you. I plan to make dinner."

"Oh, make dinner?" Pan tilted her head slightly. "Ms. Irin, can you cook?"

"Just a little, Auntie Pan. Just enough to survive."

"I see. No wonder I saw fresh ingredients in the fridge. Feel free to use anything you need. Let me know if you need anything else, don't hesitate."

"Thank you."

The young woman gave a polite wai before heading to the kitchen to make dinner for herself.

When Auntie Pan mentioned seeing fresh ingredients in the fridge, Irin thought there might be a pack of chicken and some fresh vegetables. But when she opened the fridge door, she was stunned. The large fridge was packed with a variety of nutritious fresh ingredients, including vegetables, fruits, meats, and various seasonings.

The boss mentioned he usually orders food from the hotel, so there shouldn't be so many ingredients for cooking.

"Normally, there aren't these things," Auntie Pan, who passed by, explained. "I'm still surprised that the young master had someone stock the fridge with so many fresh ingredients. Normally, the kitchen is hardly used."

Irin recalled the day she told Pholachshe would cook for him. She didn't want to assume that the boss ordered these things for her, but if that were the case, she couldn't help but feel good.

Having a boss like this feels like winning the lottery.

In a good mood, the young woman prepared a simple chicken breast salad for dinner, as she didn't have much time and needed to go to bed early. Even though the boss wasn't around, she still had to work as usual without a break.

After finishing her late dinner, Irin didn't see anyone else in the penthouse. She walked into her bedroom, undressed, and prepared to take a bath.

She chose to soak in the tub since it wasn't too late. The clean white robe was removed from her body and neatly draped. Her slender legs stepped over the edge of the jacuzzi to sit and soak in the swirling warm water, feeling as if the water was massaging away her fatigue.

"Mmm, so relaxing."

The perks from Pholach were unmatched. Her condo might have a bathtub, but it was just an ordinary and small one, not a jacuzzi that could fit two or three people like this. Irin wasn't someone who usually indulged in luxury, but sometimes after working hard, she wanted to pamper herself a bit.

The young woman closed her eyes, letting her body relax in the swirling warm water until she drifted off to sleep.

.

"Irin"

"Yes"

"Don't ever forget my touch."

"Why?"

"If you forget, I'll come back to remind you until you remember, like this."

"Ah, boss!"

.

Gasp!

Irin jolted awake, her beautiful eyes wide open, looking around the large bathroom where she was still alone. But why did the boss's voice sound so clear, as if he was speaking right next to her ear?

Just a dream...

The young woman shifted to sit hugging her knees. The warm water that was initially hot had started to cool down, yet her body felt inexplicably heated, especially the secret parts that had been caressed by large hands for hours earlier that evening.

It felt as if his hands were still there, still touching her intensely, not going anywhere, even though he was far away now.

"Schemer."

Pholach had deliberately touched her before going to Italy. He wanted her to be unable to forget him and to constantly think about his touch like a madwoman. It was his plan from the start, and it worked so well it was frustrating.

She missed his touch.

She wanted him to touch her like he did that evening, giving her that torturous pleasure many more times.

"When will you come back?"

.

.

"Looking like a monkey's behind," the groom in a white suit but covered in tattoos walked over to his close friend. Since arriving, Pholach had been in a foul mood, and no one could get on his good side.

"Your knack for Thai expressions is still as sharp as ever," Pholach couldn't help but tease. "Oh, you're marrying a Thai woman, so you have to be good at Thai, huh?"

"My wife speaks Italian fluently. I don't need to speak Thai, but I still do because I'm worried you and the doctor might insult me without me knowing."

"Oh, how proud I am," Pholach shrugged indifferently, indicating he wasn't truly proud of it.

The two figures, both of similar height, stood looking at the garden from the balcony of the luxurious mansion. Below, it was beautifully decorated for the evening's reception. Pholach had arrived in Italy since yesterday, had gone through the vow ceremony in the church this morning, and now only the reception was left, which his friend insisted he stay for before flying back to US.

Boring as hell.

"Why are you so eager to get back to US?"

Rafael questioned. Since arriving, his friend had been constantly asking when he could return to US, as if he had someone hidden there.

"Or do you have a wife hidden in US?"

"Cut it out, I'm not you," Pholach quickly raised his hand to stop him, firmly denying it. He wasn't lying because he didn't actually have a wife hidden away, just a secretary...

One day, he would have a wife, would marry to have heirs with a suitable woman, but not now. And even if he did, he would never be obsessed with his wife like that.

"Then why act like you're so eager to get back to US?"

"I've got stuff to do, unlike you who's got all the time in the world," he replied.

"Don't let me find out," Rafael pointed at his friend. When he returned to US, he had to find out if his friend was hiding someone.

"Stop playing detective, you're not my wife."

"But I do want to see your wife someday, when's that happening?"

Pholach sighed, "Whenever my parents decide."

Rafael didn't ask anything further. He and Pholach were close friends who were as different as night and day. Pholach was the heir to a famous family, the Maxwells, a lineage descended from high-ranking nobility in the past, while the Rossis were just an unknown family that had risen through gray business to become wealthy. Not to mention upbringing; while a gentleman like Pholach was learning to dance for high society, he was brawling with others.

But the advantage of the Rossis was that they didn't impose on matters of marriage; it could be anyone, unlike the Maxwells, where it had to be someone worthy.

"Sir, it's time for the reception. They're here,"

The young mafia's bodyguard came to deliver the important news. Rafael glanced at his close friend for a moment before separating to personally greet the new guests.

Guests who were not invited by the host but had taken the liberty to come anyway.

Pholach wasn't too concerned about his friend's affairs. He knew that Rafael had plenty of enemies, to the extent that even a wedding could turn b****y if not carefully managed. Fortunately, the vow ceremony had gone smoothly, but the evening promised to be quite exciting.

His sharp eyes drifted away from the scene of his close friend and the group of men on the other side, who came dressed in full black attire, clearly showing no respect for the big mafia wedding in Italy. He picked up his phone and dialed someone on the other side of the world, directly calling his secretary for the first time.

(Hi.)

"Irin, it's me."

(Is that you, Boss?)

"Yes."

(Is there something important, Boss?)

Irin's voice was laced with surprise. Pholach smirked. It was no wonder because, apart from friends and family, he never contacted anyone personally without going through Will or Mike even once.

At first, Irin didn't know it was him calling. Pholach didn't give out his personal number easily. Only a few people knew it.

"Nothing."

(What?)

"Nothing important," he emphasized each word slowly. "I just wanted you to have my number in case you need to contact me about work."

(But I can contact you through Will or Mike, can't I?)

"Irin."

(Yes?)

"Don't be stubborn, okay?"

(I'm not being stubborn, really.) She mumbled back defensively.

"I'm almost back. Have you forgotten my touch already, Irin?" He changed the subject. This was the main reason he called Irin. Pholach wanted to know if she had forgotten the touch he intentionally left behind.

Because if she had, he'd make sure she wouldn't dare forget it again when he returned.