I was cashing out, selling my shares in the startup I’d built from the ground up. I was getting married. But the two women who’d sworn they’d never marry anyone but me—my co-founders—had no idea. They were too busy throwing a party for the new male secretary… a celebration for a deal I had closed. A deal that had cost me a night of drinking myself into a bleeding ulcer. While I was passed out, he’d just dumped me in the hotel room, grabbed the signed contract, and raced back to the office to claim all the glory. And Kate and Laura, my brilliant partners, had swallowed his story hook, line, and sinker. The next day, a compromising photo of me went viral in the company’s group chat. The whispers started instantly: all my brilliant successes were just the result of me being some rich older woman’s boy toy. I called them from my hospital bed, trying to explain. Their response? “Don’t be so thin-skinned, Kevin. You’re a grown man. And stop making up stories about a bleeding ulcer.” “You’ve got an iron stomach. You could drink drain cleaner and be fine.” “We’re celebrating Jim’s big win. Come if you want, don’t if you don’t.” … The day I was discharged, I went back to the office just long enough to sell my shares to their biggest competitor. Then I called home. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry Sophie. You can start planning the wedding.” Just as I hung up, Kate and Laura pushed open my office door, their brows furrowed. “A wedding?” Kate asked, her voice tight. “What wedding?” It was only ten days away. No point in hiding it now. “Mine,” I said, my tone flat. “I’ll send you an invitation.” They stared at me, disbelief clouding their faces. As if on cue, my phone began buzzing incessantly—a dozen design drafts for wedding rings from my mother. They leaned in, their eyes widening as they saw the images. Kate’s disbelief soured into annoyance. “What are you doing ordering wedding rings, Kevin? Are you planning to wear one on each hand?” Laura interrogated me like I was on trial. “You’re a workaholic. You don’t even have a girlfriend. Who the hell are you marrying?” The irony was thick enough to choke on. The same two women who had once promised to spend their lives with me now stood there, looking at each other in baffled confusion. Just then, Jim waltzed in with a stack of documents, having overheard our conversation. His face was a mask of shock. “Mr. Beaumont,” he said, his voice dripping with faux concern, “you’re not planning on becoming Mrs. Davis’s boy toy, are you? I heard her kids are already in college. This… this doesn’t seem right.” Thanks to him, the entire office now believed I was sleeping with our biggest client. My gaze turned to ice. “Entering my office without knocking is just bad manners. Stealing my credit and then spreading sleazy rumors about me… is that just ignorance of the law?” My sharp tone made Jim’s eyes well up with tears. He stammered an apology, wringing his hands. “Mr. Beaumont, I didn’t… I never thought the others would misunderstand like this. But you and Mrs. Davis, in that hotel room…” He trailed off, his face flushing a deep crimson, unable to finish. But the implication hung in the air, and it was enough. Kate and Laura’s faces darkened, their eyes now regarding me with undisguised contempt. “That’s enough!” Kate snapped, her fury directed at me. “If you don’t want people to know, don’t do it in the first place. Don’t take out your humiliation on Jim just because you got caught.” “He’s just looking out for you,” Laura added, her voice laced with disgust. “Mrs. Davis is old enough to be your mother. Are you really so determined to debase yourself by becoming her side piece?” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. Without another word, I threw all three of them out of my office. The bonds of our childhood, the five years we’d spent building this company together… all of it meant nothing. They wouldn’t believe me, but they’d trust the word of a man who’d been here for less than two months. I refused to waste my anger on them. I went back to scrolling through the ring designs my mother had sent. Not two minutes later, a notification popped up in the company group chat. It was from Kate. I was to switch offices with Jim. The reason? As her secretary, his office needed to be closer to hers to “improve workflow efficiency.” The chat, filled with hundreds of employees, exploded with sycophantic congratulations for Jim. A few loyal members of my team questioned the decision, pointing out the absurdity of a fresh-faced graduate, only two months into the job, being handed the general manager’s office. I was about to message them privately, telling them to stand down, when Jim posted a voice message, his tone pitiful. “Kate, it’s all my fault. I was so focused on the contract that night that I failed to take care of Kevin. I don’t deserve his office. I can’t even face him. I… I’d like to submit my resignation.” His performance was so nauseating it made me want to gag. The glass door to my office was kicked open. Laura stood there, glaring at me. “Look what you’ve done! Pack your things and clear out for Jim. Now. I don’t want to see you bullying a kid who’s just starting out in his career.” Kate followed close behind, urging me to hurry up while simultaneously typing reassurances to Jim in the group chat. Suddenly, someone in the main office shouted that Jim was on the roof. The color drained from both their faces. Without a second glance at me, they sprinted towards the rooftop. As their frantic figures disappeared, I calmly picked up my phone and dialed the number of someone who’d long been interested in my shares. Victoria, Kate and Laura’s arch-nemesis, had somehow heard I was selling and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I checked the email I’d sent Kate and Laura. Yesterday had marked the 30th day since I’d sent them the notice of sale. Their lack of response meant they had forfeited their first right of refusal. Victoria had given me three days to consider. I replied instantly, telling her we could sign the papers today. By the time they had coaxed Jim down from the roof and returned, they found my office untouched. Their patience had worn thin. “It’s an office swap, Kevin, not a cross-country move. What’s taking you so long?” At Laura’s words, Jim bit his lip, his eyes, red and swollen, fixed on me. “Mr. Beaumont, I’m so sorry. I… I don’t really need this office…” “It’s fine,” I said breezily. “If you like it, it’s all yours. You can have the General Manager title, too, while you’re at it.” My words made fresh tears spring to Jim’s eyes. Gone was the ruthless ambition he’d shown when he stole my deal. “What’s with the sarcasm, Kevin?” Kate challenged. “It’s just an office. Is it really worth being this petty?” Having already sold my shares, I couldn’t care less about the damn office. The dismissive look on my face must have infuriated Laura. She strode forward and unceremoniously dumped my few belongings onto the empty desk outside. Kate shot me a cold look before personally starting to arrange Jim’s new office. HR was parading in with potted plants, then fresh flowers and collector's figurines. You’d think they were decorating a honeymoon suite. Finally, the workday ended. Kate rapped her knuckles on my temporary desk. “Don’t leave. We’re all going out for a team dinner to celebrate Jim’s new office.” I was taken aback. A celebration for an office change? Still, I didn’t refuse. I’d treat it as one last meal with my colleagues. It was only at the restaurant that I discovered the truth. The few employees who had spoken up for me in the group chat had all been fired, dismissed under flimsy pretexts by Kate. I messaged them one by one. They told me Kate and Laura had threatened them, warning them not to contact me or they’d be blacklisted from the industry. To appease Jim, they had turned on their oldest, most loyal employees. This ‘kill the chicken to scare the monkey’ tactic had worked; no one else dared to cross them for my sake. One brown-noser even took the chance to mock me. “Kevin, you missed Jim’s last celebration. You’d better give him a proper toast tonight. If it weren’t for him closing that deal, who knows what else you would’ve had to… sacrifice.” The insinuation was clear, bringing back the disgusting comments I’d overheard in the restroom earlier that day. “The nerve of Kevin, showing his face like nothing happened.” “A guy who sleeps his way to the top doesn’t need a sense of shame.” Ignoring the stares, I poured myself a glass of soda and took a small sip. Kate’s face instantly hardened. She snatched the glass from my hand and dumped it out. With practiced coordination, Laura filled it to the brim with hard liquor. “You bullied Jim so badly today he almost jumped off a roof,” Laura said, her voice sharp. “A drink to apologize isn’t too much to ask, is it?” “Besides,” Kate added, “you owe him one from the last party you skipped.” Without a second thought, I flung the contents of the glass into Laura’s face. “Who the hell is he to deserve a toast from me?” The table fell silent, everyone stunned by my action. Kate, ever the stoic one, simply refilled the glass and pushed it towards me again, her expression stubborn. “Kevin, this is for team unity. You’re drinking it, whether you like it or not.” Jim, ever the actor, feigned concern. “Kate, Laura, it’s okay. I know Mr. Beaumont looks down on me. If he doesn’t want to drink, let’s not force him. We shouldn’t ruin the mood…” But Laura, still dripping with liquor, was having none of it. Her fury boiling over, she slapped me hard across the face. Before I could react, she grabbed the glass and force-fed the fiery liquid down my throat. “You sleep your way into deals,” she spat, “what right do you have to look down on him?” The same two women who once feared me drinking a single drop of alcohol were now pouring it down my throat for Jim’s sake, their words dripping with venom. The searing liquor burned a path from my throat to my stomach. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. But they didn't notice. They were too busy pouring Jim his favorite fruit juice. He drained the glass in one go and shot me a triumphant smile. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Kevin. I’ll work even harder from now on.” The others assumed he was talking about the office. But I saw something more in his eyes: the unshakeable confidence of a man who knew he had already won Kate and Laura over. “Well then,” I said, my voice strained, “here’s to you marrying the bosses and reaching the pinnacle of your life.” I clutched my stomach, a searing pain shooting through me, and tried to head for the restroom. Kate blocked my path. “A couple of sips and now you’re putting on a show? Stop talking nonsense and sit down.” The burning in my gut was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. My eyes, red with pain and fury, met hers. “I just got out of the hospital for a bleeding ulcer,” I rasped, “and you force-feed me liquor?” Her hand, which had been blocking me, froze mid-air. “Could you at least come up with a believable excuse? You’ve been drinking for years, and we’ve never seen you with a bleeding ulcer.” Laura, the one who’d poured the drink, chimed in with her own skepticism. “I barely got a mouthful in you. A guy who can drink anyone under the table, and you’re acting like this? Seriously?” It’s easy to be dismissive when it’s not your own body in agony. There was a time when Laura, seeing me drink with clients to close a deal, would ask with tears in her eyes, “Kevin, there are so many other clients. Is one deal really worth it?” Back then, she and Kate would cry just seeing me drunk. They’d brew me hangover remedies, take turns staying up all night by my side, just to hand me a glass of warm water when I was thirsty. The next day, they’d march into the office with dark circles under their eyes, determined to work twice as hard to justify my sacrifice. We had survived the hardest days of our startup. The two women who had sworn themselves to me were now championing another man at my expense. “I just need to use the restroom,” I said through gritted teeth. “Is that really so much to ask?” My stomach convulsed, and I bent over, leaning against the wall just to stay upright. A female colleague was the first to notice something was seriously wrong and moved to help me. Kate pushed her away, forbidding her from touching me. “So this is your trick, Kevin? You play the frail victim after a few drinks to win over your female clients?” The colleague who had tried to help me blushed, mortified. “Kate, I think you’re mistaken. Look at him, his face is pale white!” Laura scoffed. “He’s just putting on an act because he’s embarrassed.” I couldn't blame her for not believing me. For years, no matter how sick I felt from drinking, I had always toughed it out. It was the path I’d chosen. I loved the grind of building something, the validation of success. In their eyes, I was made of iron. Jim, having enjoyed the show long enough, now approached with a cup of hot water, playing the part of the concerned friend. “Kevin, it doesn’t matter how you landed the deal. You’re a hero to this company. We’re all grateful for your contribution.” His words were gasoline on a fire. Kate, who had been supporting me, suddenly snatched her hand away as if I were something filthy. “If you don’t want to be here, then just go home,” she said, before turning and walking to the restroom to scrub her hands clean. Under the contemptuous gazes of everyone in the room, I clutched my stomach and turned to leave. But Jim wouldn’t let me. He grabbed my arm, and in the struggle, the scalding water from his cup sloshed out, splashing onto both of us. I recoiled instinctively, pushing him away. Most of the hot water drenched my hand. Laura shot up from her seat, yelling for a waiter to bring an ice pack for Jim. She was completely oblivious to the fact that my hand had taken the worst of it. Jim had a small red patch, the size of a quarter. My entire hand was a blazing red. Kate emerged from the restroom just in time to see Jim on the verge of tears. Her anger finally erupted. “Kevin, have you no shame? Jim is trying to help you, and you attack him?” At that moment, a wave of grief washed over me. I fought back the stinging in my nose and let out a bitter, hollow laugh. Seeing me laugh, Kate grabbed me and dragged me in front of Jim. “I don’t know what you find so funny. Apologize to him. Now.” Laura, busy applying the ice pack to Jim’s hand, chimed in, “He has to apologize! If that burn scars, it’s over!” My hand trembling, I held up my own scalded skin for her to see. She didn’t even look, just slapped it away. The searing pain intensified, a sharp, stabbing agony now mixed with the burn. Kate watched me like a hawk. “What, you won’t apologize? Are you going to hit him again?” I shouldn’t have even tried. A colleague sitting nearby finally saw the state of my hand and spoke up hesitantly. “Kate… Kevin is burned too…” Kate’s brow furrowed. A flicker of something—was it concern?—crossed her eyes as she instinctively reached for my hand. But then Jim let out a sharp hiss of pain, and her face hardened again. She flung my hand away. “Serves you right! If you hadn’t been such a drama queen, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. You’re a liability.” “Apologize and get out.” An apology was impossible. But I was done humiliating myself. Seeing my refusal, Jim put on a brave face. “Kate, I’m fine… You should take Kevin to the hospital. A burn like this really hurts… Ah!” His sudden cry sent Kate and Laura into a panic. They fussed over him, checking his hand, the chaos escalating until someone was actually calling for an ambulance. I turned my back on the circus and walked out without a second thought. Sometime during the dinner, it had started to rain. As I stood at the curb, wondering whether to make a dash for a taxi, Laura came out. I thought for a moment that her conscience had gotten the better of her. Instead, she just tossed a jacket at me. “Here are your things. Stop being so careless and expecting me and Kate to clean up after you.” I looked down at the light-colored suit jacket, now stained with red wine. I threw it directly into a nearby trash can. Laura was furious. “Kevin, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” It was a custom suit she and Kate had bought for me together. There was a time they would fight over whose gift I would wear for the day. Eventually, they started splitting the cost of everything, just to keep things “fair.” “It’s dirty,” I said, my voice empty. “It’s time to throw it out.” Just like them. Their hearts were tainted. It was time to throw them away. For a split second, a look of profound loss flickered across Laura’s face, as if she’d just felt something important slip through her fingers. But her attention was quickly drawn back to Jim. I hailed a cab in the pouring rain, went home, took my medication, and iced my hand until the throbbing pain finally subsided. The next morning, I woke up to my phone blowing up with texts from strangers—a flood of lewd messages asking for my “rates.” Then another message came through, this one with a link. My private information, my photo, had been posted on a porn site.
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