Devilish secretary - Chapter 306

Chapter 306: Chapter 306 Holding back emotions
Alexander leaned forward just a little. “And don’t worry,” he added, his tone sharp now, almost cruel. “I’m not helping her. I’m keeping my distance. Thanks to you.” His eyes darkened. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Ana looked at him, shocked by the bitterness in his voice. “Sebastian…”

“No,” he interrupted. “Let’s say it properly—you can’t stand my happiness.”

“Sebastian, I am your mother,” Ana snapped, her voice rising just a little, as if trying to remind him of a title she thought still held weight.

“And that’s the saddest part,” he replied, his voice quiet now. Empty. “Because the only person who was supposed to protect me… became the reason I needed protecting.”

Ana’s breath caught in her throat.

He stood slowly, walking to the window, looking out at the skyline like the conversation bored him now. “She’ll do it,” he said, more to himself than her. “Not to prove anything to you but to protect the love you tried to make her feel ashamed of.”

Silence filled the office.

Ana Stood still, speechless.

Because deep down she knew he wasn’t wrong.

“Seb…” Ana called softly, her voice trembling as she looked at him. He turned slowly, his sharp face meeting her eyes. And in that moment—she saw it. Not anger. Not rage. But something far more painful. His eyes held a strange glint, a flicker of something unspoken, like the shimmer that rests in your eyes when you’re holding back tears too well. That glint of grief you don’t allow to fall. That spark of hurt buried deep beneath layers of silence.

He stood still for a moment. His jaw was tight. His posture perfect. But his voice… was empty. “Mom… I don’t want to be disrespectful to you. You can leave.” There was no harshness in his tone, no softness either—just that cold in-between where emotions go when they’ve been silenced for years.

Ana took a step forward, distracted, unsure, lost in the space between being a mother and a stranger. “Sebby…” she whispered, almost helpless now.

But Alexander suddenly laughed.

A sharp, loud, bitter laugh that echoed too loudly in the quiet office. “Haha… Lilith will prove herself in three months. Even though she didn’t need to. Because I already know who’s meant for me… who’s mine.” His voice cracked only a little, but he quickly masked it with a smirk that didn’t touch his heart. He looked at his mother again, colder now.

“But my dear mother…” he said, leaning slightly closer, his smile fading, “how are you going to prove that you love me?”

Ana flinched. “Sebastian! I’m your mother! Why would I need to prove my love to you?” she shouted, her voice rising with frustration.

“Exactly!” he shouted back now, his control slipping. “She’s my girlfriend. My future wife. The mother of my future children. My twin flame.” His hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides. “And you—” he pointed toward her with trembling anger, “you had the audacity to ask her to prove her love… when you’ve never once tried to prove yours.”

Ana’s face twisted in shock.

“You’re raising your voice at me?!” she cried out. “I’ll tell your father!”

Alexander stared at her for a moment before laughing again but this time, it was quieter. Almost sad. “Go ahead. Tell him. The man who didn’t have time to exchange even three full sentences with me in my entire life. Now suddenly he’ll scold me?” he said, voice flat.

He sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. His chest rising and falling too fast. His head shaking slowly.

His family… he’d never asked them for much. And they’d given him even less.

He turned away, walking back toward his desk.

“Mom… leave. Before I snap at you again.” he said, voice low and dangerous now.

This time, she didn’t argue.

She stood frozen for a second.

And then slowly… walked out.

And once the door clicked shut, Alexander stood still, staring at the empty chair across from him.

For a long time.

Silent.

He let out a long breath as he sat down at his desk, dragging the chair back with a heavy hand and slowly lowering himself into it. The room was quiet again. The echo of his mother’s voice still lingered faintly in the air, but he refused to let it stay. He reached toward the far corner of his desk—where only one thing ever remained untouched.

A small, framed photograph.

Lilith.

She wasn’t dressed like a model or posing like someone aware of the camera. She was in her casual clothes—a plain oversized shirt, a few loose strands of hair brushing across her cheek. Her eyes were half-closed as if caught mid-laugh, and her lips held a soft, natural curve that looked more like a secret than a smile.

She looked… real.

And heartbreakingly beautiful.

He stared at it for a long moment, his fingers gently brushing the edge of the glass. It wasn’t a perfect photo. Not one anyone else would frame. But to him it was her. Pure. Calm. Untouched by the ugliness of everything around her.

He leaned forward, kissed the photo frame softly once, just between her brow and her hair, then set it back in place like it was the only thing that mattered on the entire desk.

Without a word, he pulled his laptop closer, opened files, and got to work.

Because if the world wanted Lilith to prove herself, then he would make sure when she rose, they’d never be able to touch her again.

***

The next day, Lilith woke up early. The sun peeked through the half-open curtain, casting soft lines across her plain walls. The bed felt cold. The room too silent. Her hand instinctively reached to the other side but of course, he wasn’t there.

A faint ache settled in her chest, a kind of emptiness she didn’t like admitting. She missed him. The way he teased her in the morning. The quiet sound of his typing beside her. Even the annoying habit of stealing the blanket midway through the night. But she didn’t let the emotion linger long. There was work to be done.