Cristina was a beautiful young woman, with long black hair that fell to her back, white skin, light eyes, and an enchanting smile. She was orphaned at the age of five when her parents lost their lives in a car accident. With no one else in the world, she was taken to an orphanage where children stayed until someone decided to adopt them. Despite her energy and joy, she was never lucky enough for someone to love her enough to take her out of that gray and gloomy place. Thus, time passed without that happening.

Years passed, and that little girl became a beautiful woman. However, as she approached adulthood, her time at the orphanage was coming to an end. The director of the place, Mirian, had grown fond of her and decided to talk to her good friend Rafael Sarmiento to offer her a job in his company. Rafael, being a good friend of Mirian, agreed to help the young woman without knowing her.

"Cris, dear," Mirian told her as they walked towards the garden. "Tomorrow you have a job interview with a good friend."

"Thank you," Cristina replied with a nervous smile. "You have always been good to me and have supported me since I arrived at this place."

"Don't be nervous," Mirian encouraged her. "My friend Rafael is a good person; I'm sure you'll do well."

"I know he must be a good person," Cristina said, grateful for Mirian's unconditional support, who had been the only light in those dark years.

Since the death of her parents, Cristina had felt that she did not fit in anywhere. She felt lost and hopeless, but her life was about to change, although not in the way she expected.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you adopted. I feel guilty for not doing enough." Mirian's tone of voice went from optimistic to nostalgic. She had always tried by all means to get someone to adopt the girl; however, for some strange reason, no one seemed interested in Cristina; when a family did, they gave up after a few days.

"It wasn't your fault. I am deeply grateful for everything you have done for me. Without you, I would never have been able to bear the great void that my parents left." Cristina's sincerity was innate; she really felt grateful to the director of the orphanage, because thanks to her she was able to cope with the pain caused by the loss of her parents.

The next day arrived like a gust of wind, making Cristina tremble; not from the cold, but from the nerves of facing real life. Looking in the mirror she realized that her clothes were not the most suitable for an interview; her attire was simple and somewhat worn. With great sadness she left the room she shared with other young women; although Laura, her only friend in that place, tried to encourage her: "You look beautiful, so change that face," she said as they walked down the hall that led to the dining room.

"It's not true. Look at me; I look more like someone who is going to beg for alms and not look for a job."

"Stop putting yourself down; you are beautiful and very intelligent so go and show what you are capable of." Laura was not lying when she said that about her friend; it was true. Cristina was very intelligent and excelled in mathematics; in addition, wherever she went she caught the attention of everyone around her. However, that same insecurity prevented her from recognizing it.

After breakfast, Cristina left the orphanage carrying with her the encouraging words of her friend. She had sworn to help the children of the orphanage and, of course, Laura.

Mirian had left the address of the company written on a piece of paper, but being almost all the time locked within the walls of that gloomy place, she did not know the city very well. Although the director knew that, she also thought it was time to let Cristina fend for herself.

On the other hand, in that luxury car was a man reviewing some documents. With a frown and hawk-like eyes, he inspected every word, every letter on the paper he held in his hands. Enrique Sarmiento radiated a cold and calculating confidence, but under that impenetrable shell hid a man marked by secrets and painful decisions. His aura was so imposing that whoever saw him would feel a chill, but few knew the vulnerability hidden behind his intense gaze.

"What happened?" Enrique asked with a firm, though slightly tired voice, when he felt the car stop abruptly.

"I'm sorry, sir. A young woman crossed the street and I almost ran her over," the driver replied with a slightly altered voice.

Enrique looked out the window, watching the young woman with long black hair walk away quickly. He did not know then that that fleeting figure would awaken in him an obsession that would jeopardize his entire controlled world.

"Continue, we have no time to lose," Enrique said as he turned his gaze back to the documents in his hands.

At 28 years old, Enrique was a tall and athletic man, with deep black eyes and skin as white as marble. His presence commanded respect and fear; in the business world he was known not only for his ruthless intelligence, but also for an ambiguous ethic: capable of destroying his enemies without mercy, but also of protecting those he considered trustworthy with fierce loyalty. Under that implacable facade was a man who struggled against his own ghosts and hidden desires.

The driver continued his way towards the Sarmiento companies, whose owner and founder was Enrique's father: Rafael Sarmiento, seventy-five years old, who unlike his son was characterized by being a fair and kind-hearted man, who liked to help the most unfortunate and who wanted to give his son a lesson in humility.

Cristina finally arrived at the imposing company where she would have her job interview. Just when the nerves that had consumed her moments before seemed to have vanished after the scare of almost being run over, they returned with force as she stepped into the majestic reception area. The place radiated power and success, and each step she took made her heart beat more intensely.

"Good afternoon," Cristina greeted as she approached the receptionist.

The woman looked her up and down, as if she were someone inferior. "Charities are given once a month and done by mail," she said disdainfully.

Cristina didn't understand what the woman was referring to, but it was clear to her that she was treating her with contempt; something she was already used to. "Excuse me, miss, but I'm not here to ask for anything. I have an appointment with Mr. Sarmiento," she replied confidently.

The receptionist looked at her mockingly, thinking that the young woman was an opportunist who only wanted to get close to the owners for her unscrupulous purposes. "Mr. Sarmiento hasn't arrived yet, so you better leave and don't come back," she said with disdain.

Cristina tried to maintain cordiality, although inside she struggled against frustration. "Miss, please check your agenda. I have been summoned by Mr. Sarmiento; if that weren't the case, believe me, I wouldn't be here," she tried to remain kind, although no one deserves to be humiliated.

"I already told you: leave and stop bothering me," the receptionist repeated haughtily, demonstrating that she only focused on appearances and was a superficial woman.

"Miss, I think you are assuming powers that do not correspond to you," a male voice resonated throughout the place, causing the receptionist to pale.

"Mr. Sarmiento!" she exclaimed, terrified. "Excuse me, sir, but this young woman insists that she has an appointment with you," she explained, trying to remain calm.

"Did you check my agenda? Did you corroborate what this young woman says?" the man asked in a firm tone.

Cristina didn't dare to look at who was behind her; the mere voice made her skin crawl and awakened a fear that she couldn't control. However, with a trembling sigh, she turned on her heels to thank the man who had defended her.

In front of her was Rafael Sarmiento. Nervous, she could barely whisper:

"Thank you, sir."

Rafael remained motionless, observing her intensely. His furrowed brow and racing heart seemed to announce that something about her was familiar to him, although he couldn't decipher what. In a low, almost hoarse voice he asked:

"What's your name, girl?"

"Cristina Fernandez, sir," she replied with a mixture of respect and apprehension. "Mrs. Miriam told me to come because I would have a job interview with you."

He nodded slowly.

"That's right. I am Rafael Sarmiento, and Miriam is a great friend."

Cristina's eyes widened as she realized that she was facing the owner of the company himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sarmiento," she said, extending her hand courteously.

Rafael shook her hand firmly, feeling a kind of inexplicable connection. At that moment, his gaze became tender; a torrent of memories invaded him: moments lived with someone very special who had profoundly marked his life. But then reality struck his mind forcefully: he remembered the day Miranda married his archenemy, leaving him devastated by betrayal. His expression changed abruptly; tenderness gave way to a cold look full of hatred.

"Let's go to my office," he said in a firm voice. "I'll explain what your job will be."

Rafael cast a disapproving look at the receptionist before walking down the hall towards the president's private elevator.

Upon arriving at his office, his secretary Lorian greeted him with impeccable professionalism:

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Lorian. Please tell my son to come and I need him to come to my office." After giving the instruction, he asked Cristina to go to the office, which was the same as the rest of the company: huge and very sophisticated, every corner emanated an air of grandeur that enveloped you in a cold atmosphere of superiority.

Cristina cautiously entered the office, feeling each step as if it were an echo in that imposing space. Rafael closed the door behind her and settled into his chair, without losing sight of the young woman.

"Cristina," he began in a firm voice, "I need you to know that not just anyone enters this company. Here, commitment, loyalty and, above all, discretion are required."

She nodded, trying to control the nerves that invaded her stomach.

"I understand, Mr. Sarmiento. I will do everything possible to comply with what is expected of me."

Rafael frowned for a moment, remembering something that seemed to torment him.

"You know? Sometimes life puts us in front of people we thought we had lost forever… but destiny has curious ways of reuniting us."

Cristina looked at him intrigued, not knowing if those words were directed at her or at some memory hidden in Rafael.

"Now I need you to take charge of helping my son," Rafael said in a firm voice, but there was something in his tone that she couldn't ignore. "He is working on a very delicate and key project for the company, and I need someone I can trust completely, someone who keeps me informed of everything he does. Do you think you are ready for that responsibility?

Cristina swallowed and for a moment thought to herself: Is he asking me to spy on his own son?. But she said nothing.

Rafael nodded slowly, with a look that was a little scary because of how determined he was.

She was about to answer when the door burst open. The two turned around and Cristina was speechless as she saw a tall, athletic man enter, with very fair skin, black hair and lips that seemed made for kissing.

"What do you want to talk to me about, Father?" Enrique Sarmiento asked without even looking at Cristina.

"First you greet," Rafael scolded, annoyed. "Leave that arrogant attitude."

Enrique snorted annoyedly.

"I don't have time for games," he said dryly. "I still can't find a secretary and the work keeps piling up."

"That's why I called you," Rafael replied. "I want you to meet your new secretary: Cristina Fernandez."

Enrique cast a cold and dismissive look at Cristina, who remained seated without daring to move.

"This has to be a joke," he said sarcastically. "Dad, you've really lost your mind now."

But Rafael didn't budge a bit.

"My decision has been made. Cristina will be your secretary. And as for experience... you'd be surprised how much she knows."

Although she was young, Cristina had learned a lot in the orphanage alongside Mirian, who only trusted her to handle her most delicate affairs.

Enrique had no choice but to accept Cristina as his new secretary, although it was clear how upset he was.

The next day was special: she was turning eighteen and it was also her first day of work. Cristina felt a whirlwind of nerves in her stomach. Her new boss didn't seem exactly easy, much less friendly.

She arrived early to the company, just as she had been told. Before Enrique appeared, she had already carefully organized her desk. Afterward, she went to get the coffee that she knew he liked. By the time Enrique came in, everything was immaculate and the aroma of fresh coffee floated in the air.

"Good morning, sir," Cristina greeted with a shy smile.

"Good morning," he replied dryly. "Bring me my agenda."

The seriousness that Enrique radiated was almost overwhelming, but there was also something in his bearing that Cristina found irresistible. She couldn't help but notice his intense eyes as she handed him the agenda.

"Here you go, sir," she said firmly.

He settled into his chair and fixed his gaze on those clear eyes that seemed to challenge him.

"Let's get something straight," he said in a cold voice. "I know my father hired you to be his spy."

A shiver ran down Cristina's spine as she heard those words; she felt exposed. Enrique, for his part, was mesmerized by the depth of her gaze, although he quickly averted his attention.

"I'm not a spy," she replied hastily. "I only accepted the job because I need it."

He smiled wryly. "I'm not stupid and I know my father well. But I warn you: if I find out you're spying on me, you're going to pay dearly."

Cristina swallowed hard; she knew she was between two storms: the need for independence and the fear of being trapped between father and son, both intimidating in their own way.

In a confident voice, she replied: "I am only loyal to my boss. What happens in this office will not leave here."

Enrique nodded with a mixture of satisfaction and defiance: "I hope so. Now let's get to work; there is much to do."

The hours seemed to multiply the pending tasks instead of diminishing them. Frustration took hold of Enrique to the point of taking a handful of papers and throwing them forcefully to the ground. Cristina jumped in fright at the unexpected outburst.

"This is madness," he muttered, massaging his temples. "I'll be back in an hour."

He put on his jacket without looking back and left, leaving a trail of tension in the office.

Cristina looked at the chaos on the floor, knelt down, and began to pick up the papers one by one. As she organized and reread them to understand them better, she didn't realize that night had fallen over the city. The silence and darkness reminded her that she had to return to the orphanage; *Mirian must be worried*, she thought, hurrying out of the building.

When she arrived, she found the room gently decorated to celebrate her birthday, but Mirian was resting deeply on the old central sofa in the place.

"Senora Mirian... Senora Mirian... please wake up," Cristina whispered, trying not to disturb her.

Slowly, Mirian opened her eyes and smiled when she saw her before hugging her tenderly:

"Daughter! Where were you?"

Cristina lowered her gaze apologetically: "Sorry for being so late... I stayed working in the office and lost track of time."

Mirian sighed in a tired voice: "I didn't know where you were... I was worried to death... I ended up falling asleep like this..."

Cristina took her hands in hers: "I should have called... I'm so sorry...", her words were sincere.

At the end of the day, Cristina celebrated her eighteenth birthday with her best friend: Laura, and the woman she saw as a second mother: Mirian.

The morning arrived as quickly as it left and the time to return to work had arrived, just as Cristina did the day before, she arrived early to her work, organized everything as the day before and waited for her boss who since the day before had left at noon and did not return.

"Good morning," Enrique greeted, calling Cristina's attention.

"Good morning, sir. I'll bring you your agenda and coffee."

Enrique looked her up and down with contempt, as the young woman was disheveled and her dark circles were noticeable. "Call my father, I need to talk to him," he ordered as he entered his office.

Cristina sighed deeply and proceeded to comply with her boss's order. While she was talking on the phone with Rafael, Enrique was in his office reviewing the documents that he had not been able to resolve, his brow furrowed as he reviewed the handwritten notes with legible handwriting and without smudges.

Cristina entered the office carrying a cup of coffee and her boss's agenda. "Who did this?" he asked seriously.

"I'm sorry sir, I know I shouldn't have messed with that, but once I started I couldn't stop...", the young woman began to breathe quickly believing that her actions were getting her into trouble; however, what happened next left her speechless.

"You don't have to apologize, this is absolutely perfect, you were finally able to correct what was wrong," he said with a genuine smile. "How could you do something like this?" Enrique asked, surprised.

"I really don't know, the ideas just came to my head and I started writing," the girl replied nervously.

"Surely it was just a matter of luck," Enrique commented incredulously.

"Yes, that must have been it." Cristina had no idea of the capacity she had to get ahead on her own, having been in that orphanage for so long ended her security and now she needed to recover what she had lost.

The days continued to pass and Enrique was beginning to realize that his secretary was very special and he knew that she could serve his own interests.