THE SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND BECAME HIS WIFE'S BOSS

CHAPTER 8

Her voice stopped him, fragile yet filled with urgency. She sat upright, cheeks aflame, eyes shimmering with a strange mixture of shyness and dependence. "Please… don't tell anyone what happened during the ritual. I beg you."

He paused, his silhouette framed by the dim lamp. "The ancient techniques require discretion. Your secret is safe," he said simply, and left without looking back.

Santiago was waiting outside, pacing with anxious eyes. When Diego stepped into the hall, his words rushed out.

"How is she? Tell me the truth!"

Diego's tone was calm, unwavering. "She's safe. The corrupted seals have been purified."

Santiago's shoulders sagged in relief, his eyes moist. He bowed deeply, again and again. "Mr. Hayes, I… I can never repay this debt. Without your great help, I would have lost her…"

Diego lifted a hand lightly. "There's no need."

Just then, the side door banged open and Santiago strode in, hair mussed, shirt crooked, a smear of lipstick dragging across his collar. Heat flashed in his eyes—cocky, feral, unashamed.

"It works," he announced, chest lifting as if he owned the air. "Not just back—better." He flexed his fingers, then laughed low. "I could take three at once tonight."

He moved as if to clap Diego on the shoulder in crude camaraderie. Diego caught his wrist midair, grip iron.

"Stand," Diego said, voice flat. "And listen. If you dive back into the same excess that ruined you, I will not cleanse you again. Next time the damage is permanent."

The warning cut. Pride warred with panic across Santiago's face. His jaw worked. He swallowed, then forced a swaggering grin that didn't reach his eyes.

"I apologize for my mistake. I swear it, no more recklessness," he muttered, still vibrating with lust-drunk triumph. "But I intend to… celebrate."

Ricardo stepped forward, his eyes still glistening with tears. "Mr. Herrera, you've healed both my children in one day using methods that shouldn't exist in this modern age. My son's condition, my daughter's life-threatening illness... How can the Vega family possibly express our gratitude?"

"Anything," Ricardo echoed fervently. "Cars, houses, a permanent position in my company with unlimited resources. You could live like a king for the rest of your life."

Diego shook his head slowly. "I don't want your money."

"Then what?" Ricardo pressed. "There must be something. No one performs miracles without expecting some form of compensation."

"I gave my word to help your daughter. That's sufficient."

The chamber door opened with authority. Esperanza emerged dressed in a crisp business suit, her dark hair styled in a professional updo. Though her color had returned to normal, she moved with the controlled grace of someone accustomed to commanding boardrooms. Yet as her eyes found Diego's, something flickered in her composed expression—a warmth that hadn't been there before.

"Papa," she said, her voice steady and clear. "I'm recovered."

"Esperanza!" Ricardo rushed forward, but she held up a hand, stopping him mid-step.

"I'm fine, Papa. Really." She turned to Diego, meeting his gaze directly. Her professional mask was perfect, but her voice carried an undertone of something deeper. "Your techniques worked. The ancient healing methods—I've never experienced anything like them." She paused, her eyes lingering on his face a moment longer than necessary. "I owe you my life."

Santiago joined them, still emotional. "Sister, when I thought we might lose you..."

"But you didn't." Her tone was matter-of-fact, though her eyes softened slightly. "I'm here."

Ricardo's face lit up with sudden inspiration. "Mr. Herrera, I must hold a grand banquet in your honor!"

"That's not necessary—" Diego began.

"It is absolutely necessary!" Ricardo interrupted, his voice rising with excitement. 

Esperanza stepped forward. "Papa's right, Mr. Herrera." Her voice took on a slightly softer tone. "It would be my honor to organize something worthy of... what you've done for us."

"The Grand Palace Hotel," Ricardo declared. "Their largest ballroom. Two hundred guests minimum. The finest chefs, the best entertainment money can buy!"

"Mr. Herrera, this banquet isn't just about gratitude. It's about respect." Esperanza paused, moving closer, her voice dropping slightly. "And perhaps... it would give us another opportunity to speak privately about your remarkable abilities."

Diego sighed slightly.

"I don’t like to draw too much attention." 

"Then we'll make it exclusive," Esperanza countered smoothly. "Invitation only. The city's most distinguished families. My father has connections with everyone who matters." Her eyes met his again. "I'll personally ensure everything meets your standards."