Fiancée's Betrayal, I'll Crash Her Empire By Dawn - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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The night before our company went public, Shirley Davison couldn't wait to throw her victory party. She'd even ordered her secretary to hand out double the usual year-end bonuses - all in crisp cash.
Digby Goodwin moved through the crowd, doling out neatly wrapped envelopes with his trademark smarmy grin. But when he got to me, he shoved me aside like yesterday's trash.
"Move it, mutt. Good dogs know not to stand in the way."
I stiffened. "What did you just say?"
Instead of answering, he smirked and slapped a termination letter against my chest.
"You think a womanizing piece of shit like you deserves a bonus? Get lost before you stink up the place."
That's when the screen behind him lit up with a slideshow - me with various female clients in what looked like compromising positions. Then the bonus list appeared. My vision blurred as I scanned the numbers. Five-figure payouts for everyone... except my row. Just a big fat zero burning red on the screen.
My fists clenched as I locked eyes with Shirley across the room.
"You're really doing this tonight?"
The photos kept flashing - me walking arm-in-arm with women, clinking champagne glasses, then the real kicker: a woman's arms wrapped around my waist as we entered a hotel.
Shirley's gaze shifted from the screen to me, her face an ice sculpture.
"I said - are you sure about this?" My voice stayed steady but dropped an octave.
The room went dead silent. Every head swiveled between us - some pitying, others just hungry for drama. Shirley ignored them all and stalked toward me, her expression twisting in disgust.
"Cyril, what possible right do you have to stand here? Everyone bled for this company. You're the only one who didn't earn your place."
I wiped at the blood trickling down my cheek from where the photos had cut me. "What is this really about, Shirley? Money? Love? Those women? Is that why you never let me near client relations?"
Her eyes flashed as she yanked photos from her pocket and hurled them at me like throwing knives.
"Taking this company public was my life's work! I won't let some parasite ruin it - not even if you were my fiancé!"
I stared at the woman I'd loved, certain this was all some terrible misunderstanding. Keeping my voice calm, I said, "Shirley, you know me. The others might buy this crap, but you? My track record speaks for itself. Those pictures don't mean anything."
Digby cut in with a slimy chuckle. "Oh yeah? What exactly does your 'track record' include? Rumor is you got real cozy closing that big account."
Snickers spread through the crowd like a virus.
"Who knows how many hotel rooms he 'negotiated' in," someone muttered. "And we actually respected this guy?"
I'd always known success came with a target on your back - I just never thought the knives would come out like this.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept my cool. "Those photos prove nothing. It was all strictly professional."
"Professional?" Digby scooped up the hotel photo with a theatrical flourish. "Then explain this little gem. It's just a still from the full HD video. Should I queue it up for the whole class?"
I looked at the photo in his hand and actually laughed.
That woman?
My sister.
That night I'd gotten hammered and meant to call Shirley for a ride home. Dialed the wrong number.
Digby Goodwin moved through the crowd, doling out neatly wrapped envelopes with his trademark smarmy grin. But when he got to me, he shoved me aside like yesterday's trash.
"Move it, mutt. Good dogs know not to stand in the way."
I stiffened. "What did you just say?"
Instead of answering, he smirked and slapped a termination letter against my chest.
"You think a womanizing piece of shit like you deserves a bonus? Get lost before you stink up the place."
That's when the screen behind him lit up with a slideshow - me with various female clients in what looked like compromising positions. Then the bonus list appeared. My vision blurred as I scanned the numbers. Five-figure payouts for everyone... except my row. Just a big fat zero burning red on the screen.
My fists clenched as I locked eyes with Shirley across the room.
"You're really doing this tonight?"
The photos kept flashing - me walking arm-in-arm with women, clinking champagne glasses, then the real kicker: a woman's arms wrapped around my waist as we entered a hotel.
Shirley's gaze shifted from the screen to me, her face an ice sculpture.
"I said - are you sure about this?" My voice stayed steady but dropped an octave.
The room went dead silent. Every head swiveled between us - some pitying, others just hungry for drama. Shirley ignored them all and stalked toward me, her expression twisting in disgust.
"Cyril, what possible right do you have to stand here? Everyone bled for this company. You're the only one who didn't earn your place."
I wiped at the blood trickling down my cheek from where the photos had cut me. "What is this really about, Shirley? Money? Love? Those women? Is that why you never let me near client relations?"
Her eyes flashed as she yanked photos from her pocket and hurled them at me like throwing knives.
"Taking this company public was my life's work! I won't let some parasite ruin it - not even if you were my fiancé!"
I stared at the woman I'd loved, certain this was all some terrible misunderstanding. Keeping my voice calm, I said, "Shirley, you know me. The others might buy this crap, but you? My track record speaks for itself. Those pictures don't mean anything."
Digby cut in with a slimy chuckle. "Oh yeah? What exactly does your 'track record' include? Rumor is you got real cozy closing that big account."
Snickers spread through the crowd like a virus.
"Who knows how many hotel rooms he 'negotiated' in," someone muttered. "And we actually respected this guy?"
I'd always known success came with a target on your back - I just never thought the knives would come out like this.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I kept my cool. "Those photos prove nothing. It was all strictly professional."
"Professional?" Digby scooped up the hotel photo with a theatrical flourish. "Then explain this little gem. It's just a still from the full HD video. Should I queue it up for the whole class?"
I looked at the photo in his hand and actually laughed.
That woman?
My sister.
That night I'd gotten hammered and meant to call Shirley for a ride home. Dialed the wrong number.
End of Fiancée's Betrayal, I'll Crash Her Empire By Dawn Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to Fiancée's Betrayal, I'll Crash Her Empire By Dawn book page.