My Father's Protégée

Ignored Warning

Theo

My father’s office always felt like a courtroom to me. Still, I slouched into the chair across from him, loosening the tie my mother had insisted I wear. On the other side of the desk, Roberto Ferraz looked exactly as he always did, composed, restrained, calculating. He never had to raise his voice. All it took was that firm gaze, a thoughtful pause, and precisely measured tone.

“I’m glad you gave the speech,” he began without preamble. “Even if it was improvised.”

“The audience loved it. At least they didn’t fall asleep,” I replied, propping one elbow on the armrest.

My father didn’t smile.

“You have talent, Theo. But talent without discipline is like fire in a dry field. It might look beautiful from afar, but in the end, all that’s left is ash.”

I rolled my eyes. Here came today’s metaphor.

“It was just a speech, Dad.”

“It’s not about the speech. It’s about what you represent to this company. And to me.” He leaned forward, fingers interlocked. “I want you to pay attention to what I’m about to say, because it’s serious.”

I stayed quiet, fixing my gaze on the bronze sculpture behind him, anything to avoid looking him in the eye. When Roberto used that tone, it was never good news.

“Teresa is leaving,” he announced like he was signing a declaration of war. “She’s retiring at the end of the month.”

I straightened in my seat. Teresa? The Teresa from my childhood? The one who knew every inch of this empire better than any executive? That was a real loss.

“She’s made up her mind?” I asked, surprised.

“She has. But she left something valuable behind before going, her successor.” He took a deep breath. “Clara Teixeira.”

Clara. The newcomer with the wary eyes and sharp tongue. The one who seemed more lost at that party than I felt on the inside. Even her name sounded like something out of a paperback romance novel.

“She’s smart,” my father continued. “Punctual. Discreet. And according to Teresa, she has the same loyal, dedicated spirit that kept her here for almost three decades. I trust Teresa’s judgment.”

I stayed silent. Clara’s image flashed in my mind—how she held her glass, trying to hide the blush on her face. Or how she looked me in the eye without flinching. There was fire in that girl. And Roberto wanted to keep her close?

Dangerous.

“I understand,” I muttered.

But my father wasn’t satisfied with my answer. He got up, came around to the front of the desk, and leaned against it with his arms crossed.

“And that’s where you come in.”

I raised an eyebrow. I knew this was going to land on me eventually.

“I want you to stay away from her, Theo.”

There it was.

“Seriously?” I said sarcastically. “You think I’m going to seduce Teresa’s protégé? I barely know the girl.”

“Which is exactly why I’m warning you now,” he said, like he was talking to an addict on the verge of relapse. “You have a history. Assistants, interns, even the daughter of the minority partner in the Sorocaba branch...”

“That was a misunderstanding,” I cut in, raising my hands.

“I don’t care,” he shot back. “The point is, Clara is here because she earned it. And I won’t let you turn that into another one of your fleeting distractions.”

“You don’t trust me?” I prodded, already knowing the answer.

“I trust your intelligence. But I don’t trust your impulses.”

He straightened and walked over to the window, speaking more to himself now.

“This girl matters to me, Theo. If Clara feels uncomfortable, disrespected, or used, Teresa will come back here personally to rip your skin off. And frankly, I won’t stop her.”

I let out a soft laugh.

“You’re being dramatic, Dad.”

“I’m being realistic,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder. “You’re free to see as many women as you want, Theo. As long as they’re not on the team. Especially not her. Are we clear?”

I crossed my arms, feigning indifference—but inside, something shifted. He cared about Clara. Not as a man. But as a patriarch. A mentor. And somehow, that made her even more untouchable.

Or more tempting?

“Crystal clear,” I replied, though something in me whispered the opposite.

Because the problem wasn’t keeping my hands off her. It was wanting to put them there. And that… was already out of my control.

I don’t like being ordered around. And even less being warned off a girl I haven’t even gotten to know yet.

Or maybe I already had… and liked her far too much.

I left my father’s office with my jaw clenched, energy pulsing hot in my veins. And of course, she was still there.

Sitting at the desk, fingers nimbly sorting papers with a concentration that felt a little too forced. The chandelier light made her silver necklace, the one personal detail, glimmer against her skin.

I walked up like a predator, leaning my elbow on the counter beside her, invading her space without asking.

“Looks like today’s your lucky day, Clara.”

She looked up, eyes green like a forest under morning sunlight.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I got a very clear reminder that I should behave around you.”

Her rosy, slightly damp lips pressed together.

“This is what you call behaving?”

“No.” I leaned in just enough for my warm breath to brush her ear. “This is what I call ignoring a warning.”

She shot to her feet, but didn’t back away. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and the flush on her cheeks gave her away, I wasn’t the only one affected here.

“I’m not a game, Theo.”

“I know.” My voice came out raspier than I’d meant it to. “And that’s exactly what draws me to you.”

She hesitated. For a second, her eyes locked with mine, and I saw everything she was trying to hide.

Desire. Yes. But also anger. Wounded pride. Fear.

And all of it together... was fuel for a fire.

Before she could say anything, I stepped back, smiling with fake innocence.

“See you later, Clara.”

And I walked away, leaving behind the trail of a game that, despite all orders, had just truly begun.