A Game With the Boss

Name: A Game With the Boss
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

yumaryp93

Romance | Ongoing

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Maritza is a hardworking woman, dedicated to caring for her elderly mother, who suffers from a terminal illness, and her younger sister, who battles schizophrenia. Her life is a constant cycle of sacrifices and responsibilities, leaving no time for herself. For three years, she has worked as a secretary at Duncan Enterprises, enduring the explosive temper and ruthless nature of her boss, Max Duncan, notoriously known as "the devil." Max, a cold, arrogant, and merciless businessman, shatters Maritza's routine with an unexpected proposal: a marriage contract. He needs to fake a relationship to salvage his public image, and though he doesn't hide his disdain for her, he offers a sum of money that could solve many of her problems. For Maritza, caught between duty and survival, accepting seems inevitable. But this arrangement will be far from simple. Max's insults and domineering attitude constantly test Maritza's patience, even as she begins to uncover a side of him she never expected. However, the contract will force them both to confront their inner demons, hidden secrets, and unanticipated emotions. Will this pact be their salvation or the beginning of an emotional storm neither can control?

R18+ Modern CEO Contract marriage

Chapter 5 The treasure

06-11 15:57

Chapter 1 The proposal

I had lived a happy childhood. I used to run through the garden of our house. We weren't rich, but we were doing well. We lived in a beautiful house, painted entirely white, with earth-toned decor. My mother had exquisite taste-art was her passion. She always baked me delicious chocolate chip cookies.

When my sister was born, I was overjoyed. I would have a little sister! I shared everything with her-until she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She suffered from seizures, and her behavior became difficult to manage. Our lives changed; we had to adjust to Nicole's needs.

My parents loved us deeply. They worked hard to support us. I never had to work or ask for anything, at least not while I was a teenager. When I turned sixteen, my father died of a heart attack, leaving us all devastated. Our dreams vanished, and it seemed like our luck did too.

As if life were determined to wipe us off the map, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. We caught it early, but it was a struggle to gather the money for her surgery. Her mood didn't help, but it was understandable-her other half was gone.

I had no choice but to go out and work. I tried to balance my university schedule with my shifts at the pizzeria. I was a waitress; the pay was decent when I pulled double shifts. My sister's condition worsened, so I turned to some of my father's friends for help, but they didn't lift a finger. It was to be expected-faces we see, hearts we don't know.

I had no choice but to drop out of university and look for another job. I had two jobs and two sick women at home. Life isn't easy, but I wouldn't give up.

Six years had passed since my father's death. My sister remained stable, as long as she took her medication. My mother was a different story. Her cancer came back-and this time, it was here to stay. It had metastasized, and we could lose her at any moment.

I had to endure humiliation, contempt, excesses, and much more-not to mention a horrible boss. Well, he wasn't a horrible man, not exactly. He was six feet six, muscular, with light brown eyes like honey. His hair matched his personality-rebellious, straight but wild. His skin was pale, like his smile. During my first year working here, I fell hopelessly in love with him. He was my platonic love, but he made sure to destroy it all with his terrible attitude.

Let's be realistic-he'd never notice someone like me. I'm an average woman, a little chubby. I have long honey-colored hair, which I always keep in a bun. I like to dress formally in loose-fitting clothes, and my thick black glasses dull my appearance. So, of course, he'd never look my way.

He calls me "The Crow" because, according to him, I'm a gray, unattractive woman. I overheard him say that to his best friend, and that's when I buried my feelings for good. That despicable man didn't deserve a thing from me.

I had to endure his scorn for all these years. I took care of his meals from Monday to Sunday, sent his clothes to the cleaners, and handled his shopping, household arrangements, and-worst of all-covered for his dates.

On Tuesdays, he went out with brunettes. Wednesdays, he gave a chance to models. Thursdays were for drinking with his friends, who were just as unbearable as he was.

Weekends were spent with his family. Mr. and Mrs. Duncan were quite kind, or at least that's what I thought. A few times, Mr. Duncan helped me with medical expenses. The devil's brothers were completely different from him.

Marcelino, the oldest, was married to a prestigious lawyer-I think her name was María, Remata, or maybe Maira, I'm not sure. John, the middle one, was very grounded. No one knew of a girlfriend, and people assumed he was gay. I doubted it-once at the dry cleaner's, I caught him being very affectionate with the manager. I pretended not to know him and walked away.

Max-aka the devil-was the youngest. A businessman, Harvard-educated. When his father fell seriously ill, Max took over the companies, and he's done a great job ever since.

Like every Monday, I arrived early at the office. It was twenty to seven. I had the coffee ready and the folders for the new contracts prepared. I still had to take his clothes to the cleaners, but I'd do that later. The devil arrived-not in a good mood today. Poor me. My desk phone rang.

-"Yes, sir. What do you need?" I asked in a professional tone.

-"What would I ever need from you? Don't insult me this early. Come to my office-unless you've forgotten you have to go over my schedule?"

I hated this man. I didn't understand how women could tolerate him.

-"Yes, sir. On my way." Jerk.

I got up from my desk, crossed myself, and entered his office.

-"Sir, you have a meeting at nine with the Mexicans. The contracts are ready."

-"Maritza, sit down. We need to talk."

-"At your service, sir," I replied respectfully, though I wanted to claw his eyes out.

-"I need you to marry me. We have to fake a relationship. As hard as it is to believe, everyone already knows my tastes. I would never be interested in a crow."

I clenched my fists in fury. I couldn't take it anymore. Had I heard him right? Was he out of his mind?

-"I wouldn't marry you even if you were the last man on Earth, Mr. Duncan. You're a damn bastard! That's why everyone calls you the devil-and they're not wrong."

Every word I spoke was filled with venom. Years of resentment, all because of how he treated me.

-"This won't be a love marriage-God forbid. It's a simple contract. I'll pay you a generous sum, so what will it be? Take it or leave it. Say no, and you're fired anyway."

I looked him in the eye. His lips moved, but I still couldn't believe what he was saying. I had worked hard all these years-I didn't get this position by chance.

-"So you're firing me because I won't marry you, Mr. Devil?"

-"Don't think calling me that will make me cry," he said with a smug smile. "I earned that nickname, fair and square. And if you don't accept, this is your goodbye. You should take advantage-I'll cover clothes, beauty salons, all those things you women like."

-"I don't need it. I quit. Go to hell!"

-"As you wish. Then I hope you die in your own misery."

The last thing I heard as I left his office was his laughter. After all this time, I finally felt alive. I was free.