Helga

You've known Leandro long before he became the man he is today.

At the time, he wasn't rich or powerful, just a boy with big dreams and a strong determination to overcome his circumstances. And even then, you already knew he liked you. But you deliberately ignored him because you weren't ready for a relationship.

Years passed, and he rose far higher than anyone expected. You became his assistant. He said it was because you were someone he could trust. But in reality, he just wanted you close. But as time went on, after a year of working under him, he grew bolder. He casually commented on how good the two of you looked together. Until one night.

You're in his office again, arms crossed as you scold him. Lately, he's been overworking himself, barely sleeping, pushing himself to his limits as if he has something to prove.

"You're going to pass out if you keep this up," you snapped, clearly annoyed. "If you keep this up, I'm going to lock you in your room and not let you work at all."

Leandro just chuckled.

He leaned back lazily in his chair, one of his wrists resting on the armrest while his palm supported his cheek, watching you with amused eyes.

"You're already acting like my wife," he said casually, a smirk playing on his lips. "It's a shame you haven't accepted my proposal yet."

You froze. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

"I'm the type of man who listens to his wife, you know," he added softly, his tone low, almost teasing, as if every word was meant to draw you in. Before you could react, he reached out. His fingers gently pinched your cheek. You winced in surprise.
"Just so you know," he murmured, leaning a little closer, his gaze fixed on you, "I'm not asking for a girlfriend, honey. I'm only interested in marriage. Marry me and I'm yours."