"Don't call me Sir," I cut her off coldly. “I can’t afford the title.”
Geoffrey took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and walked back to sit behind his desk. His voice turned flat, stripped of all pretense.
"August, since you've made up your mind to leave, I won't stop you."
I nodded. "Good. Then let's part on decent terms."
I pulled out my access card and employee badge, placing them neatly on the desk.
"Two years of effort—in exchange for finally seeing someone’s true face. It was worth it."
Without another glance, I turned and walked toward the door.
As my hand touched the handle, his voice came from behind me, low and cold.
"August, business is war. Don't blame me for what comes next."
I paused for a moment but didn't look back.
Back in my office, I began packing my things—a few notebooks filled with client notes, a battered fountain pen, and one small memo book that held every client's quirks and preferences.
I was placing them into a cardboard box when the door suddenly opened.
Yvette stepped in, her expression practiced and polite. "Sir August, my brother-in-law said you need to hand over all the client files to me."
I didn't even look up, continuing to organize my desk.
She hurried forward and slammed her hand down on the box. "These are company property. You can't take them."
My face stayed calm. "There's nothing here you want—these are my personal items."
"And one more thing—don't call Sir. You don’t deserve it."
Her expression twisted, the sweetness on her face vanishing in an instant.
"August, stop pretending," she sneered.
"I'm warning you—if anything goes wrong with the client handover, my brother-in-law won't let you off easily."
When I didn't respond, she suddenly leaned closer, her tone dropping to a whisper.
"Don't blame me, Sir. I'm just doing this for the company."
Before I could react, she suddenly threw herself at me, tearing open her blouse with a sharp rip.
Her voice rose in a piercing scream—
"No! Help! Somebody help me!"
The next second, the office door slammed open.
Geoffrey burst in with two security guards. They didn't ask a single question. They grabbed me, slammed me against the wall, and the next thing I knew, fists and boots were raining down.
I curled up, protecting my head and stomach as the pain throbbed through my ribs.
"You beast!" Geoffrey's roar echoed in my ears.
"I treated you like a brother, and you dare assault your own assistant in broad daylight?"
"You're nothing but a monster!"
Within minutes, the hallway outside was packed with gawking coworkers.
Their whispers rose like a tide.
"I knew he wasn't a good person!"
A female colleague who once greeted me with smiles now spoke with open disdain.
"Remember that company trip? He couldn't keep his hands off the women."
“That’s right!” another chimed in immediately. “One time, when I worked overtime late, he insisted on driving me home. Thinking about it now gives me chills.”
Greyson from the marketing department pushed forward, his face full of outrage.
“Don’t you know? I heard he spent three days and nights in a hotel with a female client just to close that big deal last time!”
“That client’s nearly fifty!” someone exclaimed.
“I told you—no way he got that deal so easily!”
“And that’s not all,” said Newman from the finance department, adjusting his glasses. “Every time he files reimbursements, there are discrepancies in the paperwork. I’ve caught him several times, but he talked his way out of it.”
“If it weren’t for the boss keeping such close tabs this time, who knows how much he would’ve embezzled!”
Morgan from IT jumped in confidently. “Remember when the company’s computer system got infected? I bet it was him! He was the last one to leave that night—I checked the logs. His computer accessed suspicious sites.”
In the middle of the chaos, Yvette kept sobbing softly, deliberately tugging her torn blouse wider, exposing the marks on her shoulder.
Those marks on her shoulder were clearly pinched out by herself just moments ago.
"Disgusting hypocrite!"
"Pervert!"
"Leech!"
"I can't believe I ever worked with someone like him!"
The chorus of insults filled the hallway, sharp and relentless.
Geoffrey pulled out his phone, his tone righteous and cold.
"August, you've truly disappointed me! I'm calling the police right now—you can explain this in jail!"
Just as he was about to dial, the front desk receptionist came rushing in, breathless.
"President Peyton! Mr. Hansen from Aldoria Group is here. He said he has a ten-billion-dollar contract—and he insists on meeting Mr. Romero personally."
The room fell dead silent.
Geoffrey froze mid-motion.
Yvette's trembling hand—still clutching her torn blouse—hung awkwardly in the air.
