I No Longer Have Love to Offer You - Chapter 15

“I have no right to say this after clinging to that promise from back then to come this far, but…”

“Mirabel, you just kept your promise, didn’t you?”

(No, I didn’t keep it I just used those words as a shield. I’m taking advantage of Albert’s kindness, so what I’m doing isn’t any different from Ricardo.)

Manipulating someone’s feelings makes it the same. Thinking that way, Mirabelle grew ashamed of her own brazen actions.

(Even so, asking Albert for help is my only option now.)

“I know it’s shameless enough just asking for a loan and job referral. So at the very least, I don’t want to presume on your kindness. There must be plenty of people who’d want to be the secretary of the head of the Albert Trading Company, right?”

“Sure, if I put out a call for applicants, there would be.”

“Then you should hire the most capable person from among them.”

(There are definitely far more competent people than me.)

“But I want Mirabelle.”

“Albert!”

Ignoring Mirabelle’s reproachful call as if it were nothing, Albert rose from the sofa, stepped close, and sat beside her.

“Besides, if you’re feeling guilty, that works in my favor.”

“What do you mean?”

(Does he mean that if I feel guilty, I won’t betray him no matter what I see or hear?)

Taking a lock of Mirabelle’s chestnut-brown hair in his hand, Albert brought it to his lips and pressed a light kiss to it. Tilting his head slightly, he raised his gaze, his golden-brown eyes capturing Mirabelle in an intense stare.

Albert’s eyes, with their faint irises, vaguely reminded her of a feline predator. His slightly narrowed gaze held her captive, making her feel like prey.

“……!”

She hadn’t noticed it during their school days, but now she sensed an almost palpable allure about him. Unconsciously, her cheeks flushed red.

“If you feel guilty, Mirabel, you’ll be thinking about me, won’t you? I’ll use anything to achieve my goals. Even if it means exploiting whatever I can to win your heart.”

With a soft mwah, he kissed her hair again before letting go.

“I’m a merchant, after all. If you show me an opening, I’ll take it.”

Albert smiled beautifully, his expression completely at odds with his words.

“Having you by my side as my secretary would give me far more chances to court you, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you saying you don’t need my skills just my presence?”

If that was Albert’s intention, it would be humiliating for Mirabelle. She had no desire to live clinging to the unreliable goodwill of others. From now on, she wanted to stand on her own two feet.

“Of course not. I have no use for a woman who just sits around.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I value your abilities. That’s why I want you as my secretary, both at the mansion and the trading company. What I said earlier was just a declaration.”

“A declaration?”

“That I’ll make you notice me, even if I have to exploit your guilt. So you don’t need to feel bad about it.”

With that, Albert stood and walked to his desk. He picked up a few documents and sat on the sofa across from Mirabelle.

“Here’s the contract. If your work exceeds expectations, you’ll get raises and bonuses. But if it falls short, your pay could be cut. I intend to evaluate you fairly.”

Read it carefully, and if you agree, sign.

Mirabelle began reviewing the documents.

The contract was meticulously detailed, covering every possible aspect. Having drawn up many contracts for servants as a viscountess, Mirabelle could appreciate just how thorough it was.

Most noble households used rather vague contracts. The viscount’s estate, for instance, had stuck to old formats, never specifying duties in detail.

(This is an exceptionally well-made contract.)

It listed everything—base salary, workdays, hours, job responsibilities, overtime rates, even paid leave days.

(Guaranteed room and board are a huge benefit.)

The welfare section covered uniforms, meals in the company dining area, and considering Mirabelle had nowhere to live even lodging. No other employer would offer terms this generous.

Since this would define her worth going forward, Mirabelle read the contract thoroughly from start to finish. Then, picking up the quill left on the coffee table, she signed in the designated space.

“Good. The contract is sealed. Can you start today?”

Albert carefully stored the signed contract in his desk drawer before confirming.

“Yes, of course.”

Mirabelle nodded.

“Then I’ll explain the basics first.”

Without delegating the task to anyone else, Albert—her employer began explaining the job himself. Mirabelle asked for paper and a pen, jotting down everything she could.

And so her first workday passed.

Only at the end did Mirabelle realize something: the job she had initially intended to refuse, she had somehow accepted without protest.

(Didn’t I mean to turn down Albert’s secretary position?)

But it was too late now. The contract was already signed.

Through firsthand experience, Mirabelle came to understand just how skilled a merchant Albert truly was.