The poor student got into the wrong car, unaware that it belonged to a billionaire

The poor student got into the wrong car, unaware that it belonged to a billionaire

“You’re not here out of pity,” he once told me. “You’re here because you’re brilliant.”

No one had ever called me brilliant before.

A month later he invited me to a business event in Polanco.

—As my assistant —he clarified.

Lights, businessmen, appraising glances.

Without saying a word, he placed his hand on my back. Not possessive. Just supportive.

I felt safe.

And that was dangerous.

The rumors started.

“The new assistant.”
“Always by his side.”

One night I exploded.

“I don’t want them to think I’m here because he rescued me.”

He stared at me

—I hired you because you’re exceptional. The rest is just other people’s insecurities.

Then he added:

“I admire you, Helena.”

He didn’t say “I desire you.”

He said admiration

And that meant more.

The decision

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