I was tired of being overlooked at work. Always the one staying late, doing extra, yet never moving up.
Then my boss — Mr. Folarin — started noticing me.
Late-night meetings became dinner invites.
Compliments turned into hand brushing, then full-on flirting.
One Friday night, he said, “If you really want to rise in this company… show me how serious you are.”
I gave in.
The promotion came two weeks later. New office. Better pay. People respected me.
I thought I played the game and won. Until I got an email.
From his wife.
With pictures.
She didn’t confront me. Instead, she said: “I’ll, Cľicĸ hērē ťo rēād thē fūľľ ārticlē: bit.ly/4cIz1Di 0R cōpy thıs lınĸ ānd pāstē ıt ın yōur brōwsēr: bit.ly/4cIz1Di
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