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They Framed the CEO for a Sex Scandal,So I Burned the Company Down and Came Back Richer
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
My biggest client and I had planned a mixer—a simple networking event. But the Gen-Z intern who'd just joined two months ago wrinkled her nose like I'd suggested something obscene. "Mr. Hughes, are ...
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第1章
My biggest client and I had planned a mixer—a simple networking event. But the Gen-Z intern who'd just joined two months ago wrinkled her nose like I'd suggested something obscene.
"Mr. Hughes, are you seriously asking us to be escorts?"
I laughed, assuming she'd misunderstood. "The mixer's at our office. Both sides get to know each other, share some food, chat a bit. It'll make finalizing the contract after New Year's much smoother."
But Arlene Lambert's voice pitched higher, carrying across the open floor. "Everyone, look at this! The boss wants us to entertain clients."
The faces around me shifted. Smiles curdled. Eyes darted away.
I fixed her with a hard stare. "If you don't want to attend, take the day off."
I thought that would be the end of it.
I was wrong.
After hours, Arlene cornered me in my office doorway, a cluster of employees materializing behind her like she'd summoned them.
"We won't sell our bodies, Mr. Hughes."
The words landed like a slap.
"Cancel the mixer," she continued, chin lifted, "or I'll report you for organizing prostitution."
The others had already made up their minds. By the next morning, the story was everywhere—twisted beyond recognition, my name dragged through every platform. The online mob came for me with pitchforks. Clients pulled out. Partners went silent.
I had no choice. I dissolved the company.
And then, one by one, they came crawling back, begging me to save them.
1.
But that comes later.
Let me start from the beginning.
Arlene Lambert stood in my doorway, arms crossed, announcing to anyone within earshot that I wanted my employees to be escorts.
My patience snapped. "Arlene, what the hell are you talking about?"
She smirked, savoring the moment. "I recorded your little speech in the meeting. You asked employees to sell themselves to please clients. That's disgusting."
I didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, I looked past her to the people hovering behind—people I'd trusted, people I'd built this company with.
"Craig. Gertrude. Jonathan." I pointed at each of them. "You're really going along with this circus?"
Craig Norris, my technical director since day one, let out a bitter laugh. "She's not wrong, Mr. Hughes. You've got some nerve. What, the contract fell through so now you need us to charm the client into signing?"
Before I could answer, Gertrude Lawrence—finance manager, supposedly level-headed—shrieked like I'd suggested she commit a felony. "I have a boyfriend! I handle the books, not client relations. You can't force me to sleep with anyone!"
I stared at her, genuinely speechless.
Jonathan James, the business manager who'd always been a little too smooth, flashed his salesman's grin. "Boss, the contract didn't go through, did it?"
He wasn't wrong—technically. The contract wasn't signed yet. Bartholomew Walker's assistant, who managed the company seal, had gone on early maternity leave. Mr. Walker himself had assured me we'd finalize everything right after the holiday.
I'd worked with Bartholomew for years. He was good for his word, generous in his dealings. I had no reason to doubt him.
But this particular contract involved multiple partners on his side—over a dozen moving parts, layers of complexity that required face-to-face coordination before anything could be locked down.
"The contract isn't signed yet," I admitted, keeping my voice steady, "but Mr. Walker already gave his word. There won't be any issues."
"This mixer is about warming up to the key phases of the deal. Getting everyone aligned. Not entertaining anyone."
Arlene's smirk widened. "See? I told you. The contract's dead in the water."
"And from what I hear," she added, twisting the knife, "everyone on the client side is in their forties or fifties. We're young. Why should we waste ourselves on them?"
Craig muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear, "I have a girlfriend. I'm not selling my soul for this company."
The women behind him nodded in unison. "We're not going to be escorts."
"It's not escorting!" My voice rose despite myself. "If it turns out to be anything like that, you can walk out immediately!"
But no matter how I explained, Arlene kept spinning, kept poisoning. No one was listening anymore.
"Walk out? By the time we realize what's happening, it'll be too late."
"What if they lock the doors? How are we supposed to leave then?"
"I've seen shady bosses before, but never one as ruthless as you, Mr. Hughes. Willing to do anything to close a deal."
Arlene's eyes glittered with something calculating. "Although... we could be persuaded to attend. If—"
I turned to Craig, Gertrude, Jonathan—and finally saw it.
The greed. Naked and undisguised.
They didn't misunderstand me at all.
They knew exactly what the mixer was.
This was leverage.
第2章
"Escort work"—what a convenient excuse to throw around.
"Fine." I kept my voice flat. "Tell me what it'll take to get you to attend the mixer."
"Simple." Arlene Lambert didn't miss a beat. "Double our year-end bonuses. Double our salaries. Do that, and we won't report you for trying to pimp us out."
She crossed her arms, satisfaction oozing from every pore. "Otherwise? We're not going. Which means you won't close that contract—and I'm guessing the penalties for that will be brutal."
Four years.
Four years since I'd built this company from nothing. No clients, no reputation, no safety net. Now we were worth hundreds of millions.
And I'd made damn sure my people were taken care of. Compensation packages that topped the industry. Weekends off. Overtime? Practically nonexistent. A subsidized cafeteria where chicken wings cost a dollar and fresh lobster ran ten bucks a plate.
Craig Norris. Gertrude Lawrence. Jonathan James. They were among the handful who'd been with me since the beginning.
Back then, they'd known nothing. Craig claimed to be a college graduate, but the man couldn't operate a basic spreadsheet. Jonathan could barely string a sentence together when he first walked in—no confidence, no presence, couldn't pitch to save his life. And Gertrude? High school diploma, rejected everywhere she applied. She'd broken down crying during her interview, begging me for a chance, saying she couldn't afford her next meal if I turned her away.
Limited skills, all of them. I'd trained them myself, one painstaking lesson at a time. Raised their salaries year after year as they grew.
And now they were using my own success against me.
The contract Bartholomew Walker had offered would net us profits in the hundreds of millions. But deals like that required relationship-building—our teams needed face time with his. Skip the mixer, and the partnership would sour before it started. The penalties for breach would be catastrophic.
They knew I was cornered. That's why they'd come.
"And if I refuse?"
My voice dropped. The temperature in the room seemed to follow.
Arlene's smirk didn't waver. "Mr. Hughes, cooperation benefits everyone."
I turned to Craig and the others. "When you first walked through my door, you couldn't do a single useful thing. I taught you. I built you. I pay you salaries no one else would match. And this is when you decide to twist the knife?"
Silence.
It stretched for a long moment before Craig cleared his throat. "Boss, we just... we just want better benefits, that's all..."
"Craig." I lifted my teacup, took a slow sip. "Do you remember what you were like when you started? You didn't know the first thing about tech. I could've tossed your resume in the trash, but I didn't. I sat with you, walked you through everything step by step, turned you into our Technical Director. Fifty thousand a month. That's what I pay you now."
My gaze shifted. "Maria Swanson. Last year, your mother was diagnosed with kidney failure. Surgery cost three hundred thousand dollars. You were drowning—no options, no way out. Who gave you that loan?"
Three hundred thousand. She still hadn't paid it all back. I'd seen how hard she was struggling, so I'd forgiven the remaining hundred thousand and change. Told her to forget it.
"And you—Nelson Finch. You couldn't scrape together the fifty-thousand-dollar bride price your girlfriend's family demanded. She was about to leave you. You got on your knees in my office, begged me to help, swore you'd work yourself to the bone for me." I let the words hang. "This is how you repay that?"
"And you..."
I pointed at them, one by one, naming what I'd done for each.
Heads lowered. Eyes dropped to the floor. Not one of them could meet my gaze.
Without me, most of them would be delivering takeout or working assembly lines, screwing bolts into circuit boards for pennies.
"Mr. Hughes." Arlene's voice cut through the shame-thick air. "They're your employees. Employees hit hard times, bosses help out—isn't that just how it works?"
"Then by that logic," I said, "I've helped every single person in this room. Now I'm the one in a bind. Shouldn't you be helping me?"
"We work for you," she shot back, not missing a beat. "We show up, we generate profit for the company. We've already helped you."
"Boss, if you're going to be this stingy about it..." Craig shrugged. "Then I don't see why any of us should bother with this mixer."
He nodded to himself, as if that settled it. "Yeah. I don't think we will."
With someone leading the charge, the others found their nerve. Voices rose. Fingers pointed.
At me.
第3章
"Exactly! What kind of boss forces employees to sleep with clients?"
"Mr. Hughes, just agree to this tiny little perk, and we'll go to your precious networking event!"
I laughed. "A 'tiny little perk'?"
"Maria, I just gave you a raise. You're making thirty thousand a month now!"
"Nelson, you're at thirty-five thousand. Tell me—with your skill set, what other company would pay you anywhere near that?"
"Mr. Hughes, that's hardly fair." Arlene's voice dripped with false concern. "They earned those salaries through their own hard work."
The others nodded like bobbleheads.
"Come on, boss, just say yes!"
"Mr. Hughes, if you double our pay, I'll finally have enough to upgrade to a bigger place this year."
"Yeah, my wife's got her heart set on a BMW. Help us out here, Mr. Hughes!"
My jaw tightened. "Your salaries are already well above industry standard. Double them, and you'd be making four or five times what anyone else in this field earns."
"The company's profits don't come close to covering that!"
"So that's a no?" Arlene's voice turned sharp.
"I can't afford what you're asking."
"Fine then." Her eyes glittered. "We'll see how this plays out. You're going to regret this."
That night, I couldn't sleep. Kept turning it over in my mind.
The key to all of this was Arlene Lambert. She was just an intern—what was her angle?
I decided to find out.
The next morning, I had HR Manager Caldwell bring her to my office.
"Arlene." I kept my tone casual, even offered a smile. "You're about a month away from becoming a full employee. Have you given any thought to your future here? Career trajectory, compensation, benefits—I'm open to discussing it."
"You think you can buy me off?" She laughed, not bothering to hide her contempt. "I can't stand bosses like you. Your employees ask for a small raise, and instead of agreeing, you try to pimp them out."
"Change your ways, or I will expose you."
She didn't even sit down. Just said her piece and headed for the door.
"Arlene." I kept my voice steady. "If it's a higher salary you want, I can make that happen."
She paused in the doorway, a strange smile curling her lips. "I'm not for sale."
Then she was gone.
I had no idea what she was really after.
Near the end of the workday, Arlene reappeared—with Gertrude and the others flanking her like a small army.
"Well, Mr. Hughes? Made up your mind yet?"
I shook my head. "The networking event is happening as planned. Your salaries are already generous, and there won't be another raise anytime soon."
I paused. "However, I'm willing to increase everyone's year-end bonus from one hundred thousand to one hundred fifty thousand."
I wasn't some inflexible relic. This was a genuine olive branch.
This contract with Mr. Walker mattered—to both of us. I needed it to go smoothly.
The industry had hit a rough patch this year. Most companies weren't giving bonuses at all; plenty were laying people off. A six-figure bonus like this? Unheard of.
"Mr. Hughes." Arlene's voice was ice. "You're not in a position to negotiate."
She stared me down. "Either you meet our terms, or we don't cooperate."
"Yeah, an extra fifty thousand? How am I supposed to afford a bigger house with that?"
"Exactly! I still can't get my BMW 5 Series!"
A chill ran through me.
These people... I didn't recognize them anymore.
The next morning, I was driving to work when my phone rang. Harper Caldwell's name flashed on the screen.
"Mr. Hughes—" Her voice was tight with panic. "This is bad. Someone posted online claiming you're forcing employees to... to be escorts. It's gone viral. You're getting destroyed out there."
The steering wheel jerked in my hands. I nearly plowed into the median.
I pulled over, heart pounding, and clicked the link she'd sent.
The post's headline screamed at me in bold letters:
CORRUPT BOSS DEMANDS EMPLOYEES SLEEP WITH CLIENTS TO SECURE CONTRACTS!
第4章
They twisted everything. Made me out to be a miser who squeezed every last drop from his employees—endless overtime, pathetic wages. And if that wasn't enough, they claimed I couldn't keep my hands off the young, pretty women in the office.
The post included several anonymous videos from "female employees" telling their stories.
"I work at this company. The boss is always calling me into his office, groping me everywhere."
"Same here. The second I walked in, he was all over me, trying to pull off my clothes. I told him I had a husband and shoved him away before running out."
"Mr. Hughes is a total creep. One time during lunch, he actually peeped on me in the bathroom!"
The post was detailed, convincing. Millions of views. Tens of thousands of comments. It shot straight to the top of trending.
The internet exploded.
"How do scumbag bosses like this still exist?"
"This company is pretty well-known in the industry. Never thought the owner was THIS kind of guy. Thank god I chose a different company back then!"
"I'm reporting him until he goes bankrupt. Then I want to see this creep behind bars!"
Just like that, I became public enemy number one—a rat everyone wanted to stomp.
When I arrived at the office, yellow tape was already stretched across the doors.
Amy Pruitt stood outside with three other employees, looking lost. "Mr. Hughes, regulators just came through. They've sealed the company—said we're under a month-long rectification order."
Arlene sauntered over with the rest of her group, barely concealing her glee.
"Mr. Hughes, looks like you've got some restructuring to deal with. Hope you know what's good for you."
Gertrude shifted nervously beside her. "What happens now? I don't want to be out of a job."
Arlene's confidence didn't waver. "Relax. He'll come around any minute now."
She stepped closer to me, dropping her voice. "Mr. Hughes, agree to our terms, and we'll make this rectification go away. We'll restore your reputation. And as a bonus? We'll even arrange for you to attend the networking gala."
All I had to do was say yes, and everything would disappear.
But was that what I wanted?
This time they'd roasted me alive and tried to snatch the fruits of my labor. What about next time?
If I caved now, I'd be nothing but a mark—and I'd lose control of my own company.
"I won't agree."
The moment the words left my mouth, Craig and the others' expressions shifted.
Only Arlene looked pleased.
What the hell is she playing at?
"So that's a no?" Her smile sharpened. "Then don't blame us for what comes next."
Minutes later, a police cruiser pulled up. Officers stepped out and approached me.
"Are you Curtis Hughes?"
I nodded.
Handcuffs clicked open. "Mr. Hughes, you're under suspicion of quid pro quo harassment and indecent conduct toward female employees. We're going to need you to come down to the station."
The cold metal closed around my wrists.
Amy rushed forward with the three loyal employees, blocking the officers' path. "Officer, you've got the wrong person. Mr. Hughes isn't like that. He treats his employees well—barely any overtime, excellent pay. He's mentored us into professionals who can stand on our own."
Another employee spoke up. "One time I collapsed at work. Mr. Hughes carried me to his car, drove me to the hospital himself, and paid my medical bills out of pocket."
Officer Brendan Bush raised a hand. "A formal complaint has been filed. We have to investigate. Please don't obstruct us." His tone softened slightly. "You have my word—we won't wrongly accuse an innocent man, and we won't let a guilty one walk free."
Looking at Amy and the others—their worry, their loyalty—warmth spread through my chest.
I managed a smile. "I'll be fine."
They loaded me into the car.
Jonathan's face had gone pale. "Arlene, isn't this going too far?"
Craig nodded frantically. "Yeah, seriously. I don't want to end up unemployed."
But Arlene just shook her head, watching the cruiser pull away.
"Men like him are stubborn. You have to show them some real consequences before they learn to bow."
Amy and the three others who'd stayed walked over. "Don't worry, we'll get you a lawyer!"
Once we were in the car, I glanced back at Arlene and her little crew.
So they want to play games?
Fine. Let's play for keeps.
I'd made up my mind—I'd dissolve the company entirely. If they wanted war, I'd burn the whole thing down and take them with me.
Amy and the three others who'd stayed walked over. "Don't worry, we'll get you a lawyer!"
Once we were in the car, I glanced back at Arlene and her little crew.
So they want to play games?
Fine. Let's play for keeps.
I'd made up my mind—I'd dissolve the company entirely. If they wanted war, I'd burn the whole thing down and take them with me.