Mocked for a Sugar Daddy, My Real Father Stunned Them

1: 1

The intern confirmation notice had barely hit the company chat when HR posted a screenshot of my name.

Congrats on making it official, Polly. Welcome to the Operations Department family.

Congratulations flooded the screen. Then one message shoved its way up through the rest.

The whole chat went dead. Eight hundred and ninety-eight people had read it. Zachery Fox had posted it.

"Must be nice having a sugar daddy. Sell yourself and you climb fast."

Half a minute later he deleted it and dropped in a sheepish little emoji.

In my last life, the doubt came at me from every direction.

There was video of me stepping out of a Rolls-Royce with an older man, going in and out of an exclusive private club, and it spread across every platform.

Late one night, on my way home from working overtime, some thugs dragged me into a van.

They abused me until the small hours, and the moment the river closed over my head, I lost consciousness for good.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at that same message.

1.

Every hair on my body stood up.

The hand on the mouse started to sweat.

The live read-count on the company chat climbed in a straight line.

The chatter in the cubicles stopped.

Everyone kept hammering away at their keyboards.

The chat sat silent while my mind raced.

I clicked the mouse and, before Zachery could delete it, I screenshotted that message.

Just like last time, the live read-count froze at eight hundred and ninety-eight.

Zachery deleted it and posted a sheepish emoji to cover himself.

I stared for two seconds, then typed fast.

"Sugar daddy? Whose? Sell myself? Sell what, exactly?"

The moment it sent, a coworker glanced up in my direction.

Zachery didn't answer, but I could see he'd opened the message.

"Say something! Don't play dead!"

The bitterness of a past life had made me sharp.

"Don't pull this stunt. If you've got a problem, say it to my face."

This time I tagged Zachery directly.

Half a minute later, the keyboards in the cubicles got louder.

More eyes turned toward me.

"Exactly what it sounds like. Those who know, know."

Zachery's message popped up.

Not a shred of apology. Every word only piled more suspicion on me.

"Polly Swanson, if you don't want people to know, don't do it in the first place. You'd better watch yourself."

That line cemented the suspicion even harder.

"I'd better watch myself? Zachery, spell it out."

"Where's your proof? Who's my sugar daddy? What department, what name?"

After it sent, Zachery went quiet.

"Zachery, don't play dead. If you can't produce proof, this is slander, and I'll report it to the police."

HR, Sylvia Chavez, stepped in with a message.

She tagged me straight away.

"Polly, we're all coworkers here. Let's talk this out nicely, don't get worked up."

I froze.

Zachery had smeared me with a sex rumor in a chat of nearly a thousand people.

And when I asked for an explanation, somehow I was the one getting worked up.

Wendy Mercer, the lead of Group A, chimed in: "Sylvia's right, don't get worked up. Zachery meant well too."

"Meant well? He accused me of having a sugar daddy. How is that meaning well?"

Wendy fired back at once: "He didn't use your name. If you feel guilty, that's on you."

"People with something to hide are always the ones twisting words."

Zachery's message came right after.

"Right. He never named you. So why are you so worked up?"

"If you had nothing to hide, why take it personally?"

"No wonder she was the only one out of this batch of interns to get confirmed so fast."

"So she's got a sugar daddy. Well, that explains it."

Just like last time, the harder I argued in the chat, the more people piled on.

More and more of them cursing me.

In my last life, I watched these coworkers I'd spent every day with attack me in the chat with things they'd made up out of thin air, and I broke completely.

I fell into the trap of trying to prove myself.

Zachery had seized on exactly that.

He'd dangled the bait.

Between my defending myself and the coworkers cursing me, he let the whole thing blow up.

In the end, I didn't just lose the job.

I paid with my life.

Thinking of that, I took a sip of coffee.

I forced myself calm.

The messages kept rolling past.

Quite a few even started messaging me privately.

Asking my rate for a night.

More than a few of them were coworkers.

Once I'd steadied myself, I screen-recorded every line of the chat.

I wrote down the name of every person spreading the rumor.

Then I posted the police report receipt in the chat.

I typed it out one word at a time: "I've got every one of you on record. I've filed a police report. When they come around, I hope you'll be able to explain yourselves."

In an instant, the chat went silent again.

The keyboards in the cubicles stopped too.

2: 2

2.

To keep it from spreading, Sylvia muted the chat for ten minutes.

"Polly, filing a police report isn't that a little much?"

"We're all coworkers here. You just got confirmed, don't make a scene like this."

"Polly, Zachery meant well."

Reading Sylvia's private messages, I felt myself go colder by the second.

Every line made excuses for Zachery.

Every line hinted I had a sugar daddy.

"Meant well? Sylvia, if he'd said that about you, would you be talking like this?"

The other end went quiet. But not for long.

Then the messages came at me in a rush.

"Why would he say that about me? I don't chase sugar daddies, I don't sell myself, so he'd have nothing on me."

"You, though, Polly fresh out of school, driving a luxury car, carrying an LV bag. Is that really your own money you're spending?"

"Stand straight and you don't fear a crooked shadow. But you don't stand straight."

"Sylvia, do you have proof? If you do, show it. If you don't, shut your mouth."

The grievance of my past life and today's anger fused into one.

I hammered at the keyboard.

Once she stopped coming at me, I saved the whole exchange.

Straight into the private folder on my desktop where I kept the evidence.

No. Not on my own.

I couldn't let this pack of people who'd smeared me get off without a lesson.

I stepped into the break room and called my cousin, a lawyer at a firm.

"Polly, don't try to prove yourself, but don't stay silent either. I trust you. Gather your evidence first."

He could hear I was low, so he tried to steady me. "A little case like this is nothing to me. I'll strike first, and your family's legal team backs the whole thing up. That Zachery is going to pay for this, guaranteed."

When I came out of the break room, a crowd was clustered around my desk.

I walked over fast and saw Zachery sitting in my chair, going through my computer.

"Who gave you the right? That's my desk."

My bag had been yanked open, the lipstick inside snapped in two, the compact smashed to powder.

Travel coffee, tampons, tissues thrown all over the floor.

Wendy was digging through it in disposable gloves, wearing a look of disgust.

"Wendy, those are my personal belongings. You're invading my privacy."

I opened my phone camera and aimed it at her.

She wasn't the least bit afraid.

"Polly Swanson, you think I want to invade your privacy? I'm just letting everyone see who you really are."

She stamped her foot down on my bag, grinding the lipstick and compact a few times like she was venting.

"This bag is Chanel's newest style, over two hundred grand. The lipstick and compact are Armani limited editions. You're an intern six thousand a month before you were confirmed. How could you afford any of this?"

I was about to open my mouth when she smiled and said, "And don't tell me you earned it in college. Your college years, your family the company's background check laid it all out."

Before joining the company, every intern went through a background check.

That file touched on personal privacy.

Only HR and vice presidents and above had the clearance to view it.

I glanced around. In the HR office, a figure stood behind the frosted glass, watching this way.

So they'd started closing ranks.

"Go on, tell us. Where did all this come from? What did you trade for it?"

I said nothing, only kept recording every move of everyone there.

"Can't explain it, right? Then I'll explain it for you!"

And with that, she pulled from my bag something that wasn't mine at all.

3: 3

3.

She dangled the box of condoms in front of me, a nasty little smile on her face.

"Polly Swanson, what kind of decent person brings this to their internship?"

Zachery snorted out a laugh.

"Wendy, you don't get it. Her real job isn't here at the office. It's somewhere else."

"Service industry, you know how it is. Always prepared, always on call. A girl at anyone's beck and"

He didn't finish the last word.

But everyone standing there had filth on their minds.

They all laughed anyway.

I clenched my fists and swallowed the urge to hit him.

"First, whatever's in your hand isn't mine, so I wouldn't know. Second, I've recorded every word you've slandered me with. When my lawyer and the police show up, don't say I didn't warn you."

Zachery noticed the phone in my hand and lunged for it.

I dodged, and he stumbled forward and went down.

I saw my chance and stomped down hard on his left hand.

He let out a howl like a stuck pig.

"Polly Swanson, you hate me for exposing you, so now you're getting your revenge."

I lifted my foot, all polite apology. "Sorry. Too much trash on the floor, didn't see it."

He scrambled up, eyes gone red.

"Polly Swanson, I was going to let you keep some dignity. You didn't want it. Don't blame me."

The work-chat cursor blinked a few times on the screen.

All at once, everyone opened the company group chat.

It was the video. The one that went viral across every platform in my last life.

Me on the arm of an older man in a black baseball cap, stepping out of a Rolls-Royce.

Walking into a private members' club.

"It really is her. Look how cheap she dresses."

"There's video and she still won't admit it. How thick does your skin have to be?"

"If her skin weren't that thick, would she be out hunting for a sugar daddy?"

Zachery stared at me, something vicious in his eyes.

He kept dumping photos and videos into the chat.

Some at the luxury counters, some in the passenger seat of a Rolls-Royce, some on a beach vacation.

Wendy dug up my social media feed.

"Still trying to talk her way out of it. She took her vacation on a beach last month. Exact same background."

Like she'd uncovered the crime of the century, she posted my whole photo set into the chat.

She pointed at a blurred figure in the corner.

"A fox always shows its tail in the end. That's the old man right there."

I looked at the photo and couldn't help laughing.

Zachery had gone to a lot of trouble to frame me.

And to make everyone believe it,

he'd deliberately mined my own social feed for material, inventing a sugar daddy who didn't exist but left just enough of a trail to be "found."

"Polly Swanson, weren't you so full of yourself? Why so quiet now?"

"If it weren't for that old man's help, how does a lowly intern like you land the Stonebrook project and get her position confirmed?"

I lifted my eyes to Zachery.

After all the circling around, he'd finally named what he was really after.

He'd started three months before me and still hadn't been confirmed.

The Stonebrook project was the stage every intern was fighting over.

Winning it didn't just mean getting your position confirmed.

Whoever landed the project would also handle all the follow-up business from Fox Corp behind Stonebrook.

Whoever took Stonebrook, and hooked into Fox Corp,

their career was as good as made.

Zachery's internship was almost up.

He needed Stonebrook. He needed Fox Corp.

"Zachery, I'm not like you. No real skill to speak of. Every intern in your batch got confirmed and you're still hanging on."

"Can't cut it yourself, so you cook up some cheap, dirty trick to humiliate other people."

That hit the nerve. Like some cornered clown, he started shrieking that he'd hit me.

The instant his fist was about to come down,

a sharp voice cut through the room.

"This is absurd. It's working hours. You think this company is a street market?"

I glanced up at who'd come in.

I let out a breath.

Now, I might just be saved.

4: 4

4.

Randolph Whitney's face was hard, and every one of the people who'd been gawking a second ago went quiet.

They scurried back to their desks like rats caught in the open.

Only Zachery, Wendy, and I were left standing.

"Mr. Whitney, there's something I need to say."

Before I could finish, Sylvia cut me off.

"Mr. Whitney, here's the incident report on what happened. Take a look."

He opened the file she handed him.

"Mr. Whitney, I only spoke up because I care about the company. I took the risk of making enemies to expose her, and Polly went and called me incompetent, called me two-faced, said I had some hidden agenda."

I was the one being smeared.

And yet Zachery looked like the wronged party.

Whitney closed the file and smiled at him.

"Zach, I understand the whole thing now. You've done well."

I stared at him, stunned.

Wendy twisted the knife right away. "Mr. Whitney, we're about to partner with Fox Corp. At a moment like this, we absolutely cannot afford any kind of scandal. We can't let certain people wreck something this big for the company."

He nodded thoughtfully and gave me a once-over.

"Polly, you're new to working life. You're in a hurry, looking for shortcuts. I can understand that."

I fired back, hard. "On what grounds do you say that? Do you have proof? His word alone?"

Sylvia pointed at the videos that were spreading everywhere. "Polly, the photos and videos are all out there. Are you still going to keep lying?"

"Mr. Whitney just stepped in to save you face, and here you are questioning him."

Randolph reined in his anger. "Polly, for the good of the company, we've already pulled your confirmation announcement."

Zachery hurried to my computer and refreshed the link.

The instant he saw the blank page, a satisfied little smile crossed his face.

"This isn't fair. You never investigated anything, and you're going on his word alone?"

"That confirmation was mine because of the countless nights I stayed up, the countless versions of the plan I scrapped, the Stonebrook project I landed. I earned it."

"It has nothing to do with anyone else."

As if something had just occurred to him, Randolph added, "Seal all the Stonebrook materials and hand them over to Zachery. The person running this project has to be honest and clean."

The pride in Zachery's eyes swelled.

Randolph pointed at me and told Sylvia, "You make sure the handover happens, and make it fast."

"Polly, you're moving out of the Operations Department for now. Go to support staff."

Then, as if he were handing me some enormous act of mercy, he patted my shoulder.

"With everything in such an uproar, the company is doing this to protect you."

The moment he turned to leave, I didn't explain, didn't argue.

I pushed the smug Zachery aside.

And sat straight back down at my desk.

They thought I'd caved, and started on the handover.

Randolph looked at me, pleased. "Polly, a young person who knows which way the wind blowsthat's the right attitude. When the handover's done, come by my office. There's something I want to discuss with you."

The three of them saw Randolph off like a pack of fawning lapdogs.

Then Zachery pressed me to hurry up and transfer everything.

But once he saw what I was actually doing,

the color drained right out of his face.