All Chapters of The HR Manual for Betrayal : Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

8 Chapters

Chapter 1

A bill hit the table between Sherry Twain and me.Daniel Jenkin—new HR guy with a Harvard ego—flashed a smug grin. "AC charges for sales' overtime. $860. Split it."His voice was so oily I felt like I needed a shower. "Sherry says we're trimming fat. Gotta boost efficiency."Silence. Like, dead silent.Our sales crew had just landed a million-dollar deal, and now their smiles were stuck mid-celebration.I shot Sherry a look sharp enough to slice steel.She was the boss. My girlfriend for nine years.Right now? Her hand was curled around Daniel's arm.Didn't even look at me. Just threw shade at the whole team. "Quentin, this isn't your daddy's company. Quit freeloading."Daniel, riding high on Sherry's approval, whipped out a tiny notebook."New rules," he announced. "One: to save water, bathroom breaks get timed. Five minutes a day, tops."Two: wanna use an A4 sheet? Cool—just write a 2,000-word essay explaining why."Three: break room water cap—500 milliliters per person.

Chapter 2

When I got back to the place Sherry and I called "home," the door code was changed.Called her. No answer.Stood outside in the cold for half an hour.Then she finally rolled up—with Daniel riding shotgun, dragging it out just to rub it in.He got out first, rocking my limited-edition sneakers.Clung to Sherry's arm, smirking like he owned the lease.Sherry unlocked the door, all attitude. "What are you whining about now? Can't you see the company's a mess?"I didn't say a word. Just headed straight for the bedroom, yanked out two suitcases, and started packing.Opened the closet—half my stuff was on the floor. Daniel's clothes took over the rack.He leaned in the doorway, smug as hell. "Sorry, Quentin. I've got a lot of stuff. Sherry said you barely used yours anyway, so we packed it up."I bit down the fury and kept packing, one item at a time.Then I saw it—the old Marketing notebook Sherry and I used to study with—jammed under a table leg.I pulled it out, ready to toss

Chapter 3

Day two using the warehouse as our "office," the roof gave out.Cold rain dumped straight on my head.Computers nearly fried. We scrambled, tossing plastic sheets everywhere like sketchy street vendors in a storm.Day three, the circuit breaker bailed.Over a hundred degrees Farenheit inside. The place turned into a steam box.Ronnie collapsed from heatstroke. I patted his cheeks till he came to. First thing he said? "Quentin, are we screwed?"Day four, Peggy's mom showed up.She pointed right at my face, yelling loud enough to shake the rafters. "You selfish bastard! You dragged my daughter out of a good job for THIS? If anything happens to her, I'll bury you!"Morale? Hanging by threads.Sherry's blockade felt like a noose tightening around our necks.Industry forums lit up with posts calling me a scammer who bailed with stolen cash. Hundreds of comments—Disgrace. Fraud. Trash.I called every old client. Half went straight to voicemail. The rest? "Quentin, how DARE you cal

Chapter 4

Landing the TrueNorth project snapped us back to life.That dusty warehouse? We made it our home, pulling all-nighters like it was nothing.The whole vibe was 'this is our comeback.'But the hits kept coming. We needed pro eye-tracking gear for market research—every rental shop mysteriously "unavailable." Yeah, thanks Sherry.Tried outsourcing video work. Five calls, four rejections. The one that said yes wanted triple the rate.Then our lead tech, Andy, got hit with real life—his wife went into labor way too early. He wanted to quit and head home.I wired him my last five grand and told him to go. His paychecks would keep rolling. Some things mattered more.Morale tanked hard.I knew I had to flip the script.That night, I pulled everyone in.No gear? Fine—we'd go old-school. Surveys at the mall, face-to-face interviews.No video crew? I crammed YouTube tutorials, grabbed two of the girls, shot everything on our phones, then pulled all-nighters splicing it together."There

Chapter 5

Sherry got hauled out by security like roadkill. Finally, the circus ended.Giselle glanced down at me, brows tight. "Did she hurt you?"I shook my head, eyeing the red streaks on my wrist. I frowned. "I'm fine. Thanks.""You don't need to thank me."After dinner, she offered to drive me home. I turned her down—I didn't want to owe her more than I already did.So I grabbed a cab back to my shoebox rental—only to find my landlord jimmying the door."You haven't paid this month's rent! Clear out!"That's when it hit me—deadline day.I mumbled an apology, promised I'd transfer it right away.Opened my banking app. Saw the ugly truth. After wiring Andy money, I was tapped out.Pure humiliation.Then a black Bentley slid to the curb.Giselle stepped out.She sized up the raging landlord, then me. No words. Just peeled out a wad of cash and shoved it into his hand."Three months' rent. Now leave."Instant personality transplant—he was all smiles and bows as he backed off.I s

Chapter 6

My dad's hospital bills drained me fast.I burned through what little company funds we had left—barely made a dent.For the first time in my life, real despair hit me.Then Giselle walked in.She'd heard somehow, came straight to the hospital.Without a word, she handed me a card. "PIN's six eights. Get your dad treated. Don't worry about the money."I looked at her—then the tears I'd been choking back just broke loose.All the pressure, the fear, the frustration—days of it—crashed down.I dropped into a squat in that freezing hallway and sobbed like a kid.Giselle didn't say a word—just slipped off her coat and draped it over me, then sat down quietly at my side.Only after I'd cried myself dry did she finally speak. "Do you want her to pay?"I looked up, eyes still wet. "Yes.""Good." She nodded. "Leave it to me."Her retaliation came fast and brutal.Three days later, AetherTech got slammed with a tax scandal. The bureau launched a full investigation.Every account th

Chapter 7

A year later, Giselle and I tied the knot.Small ceremony—just family and our closest friends. The whole team showed up.Ronnie bawled like a 200-pound baby. He clutched Giselle's hand, repeating, "Quentin's the best guy in the world. If you screw him over, BlueVoyage Works is coming for you."Giselle just laughed. "Relax. You won't get the chance."After the wedding, Giselle handed TrueNorth's work to pro managers and spent more time with me.We traveled, skied, chased the Northern Lights—catching up on everything I'd missed.Once, while abroad, we got robbed. She shoved me behind her and ended up with a nasty cut on her arm. My hands shook while I bandaged her, but she just smiled, called it her badge of love.We learned to dive. I froze at the surface—too many old ghosts. But underwater, she held my hand, little by little, and led me to the most beautiful coral I'd ever seen.I thought the ugly parts of my life were gone.Guess not.I was taking my son—Nathan—to the hospit

Chapter 8

I thought Sherry was finally out of my life.Wrong.A week later, Ronnie called me, practically shouting: "Quentin! Bad news! Sherry's trashing you online!"I pulled up the app.Trending at the top—#ExGirlfriendExposesBlueVoyageCEO.I clicked.Of course, it was a novel-length rant written by Sherry herself.She cast herself as the poor, heartbroken victim. Claimed I'd used her company to launch my own, ran off with some rich woman, then coldly dumped her in prison. She even flipped it so my dad's illness was somehow my fault.Every line dripped with poison.And the worst part? People bought it. Her 'prisoner' status made the whole thing sound even more legit, and the messy details sold the lie.The comments were savage:[Holy crap! This guy's pure evil!][Never trust appearances—Quentin Quinn's garbage!][Boycott BlueVoyage Works! No place for snakes like this!]Our stock tanked on the spot. Partners started blowing up my phone, demanding answers.The PR storm we'd all d

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