Rule One: Don't Fall

Chapter 3

I SWALLOWED hard when I saw her sitting on her swivel chair, pen in hand, busy writing something. She was wearing her usual elegant formal attire. Her hair was in a sleek ponytail, and she had on her reading glasses.

I immediately felt the pressure in my chest. I’ve faced her before—during executive meetings, HR briefings, and strategic planning—but this was different. This time, I was bringing the name of a department head who was on the verge of getting terminated.

I composed myself before clearing my throat. “Good morning, Miss President,” I said to get her attention.

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. Miss Victoria was beautiful—just like Jesher. Actually, all the female cousins in their family were gorgeous. Even their male cousins were ridiculously handsome—except for their CEO cousin, who’s currently busy building his own business. I haven’t seen him in ages—almost five years now, despite working in this company that long.

They all have mixed heritage—if I’m not mistaken, half Filipino-Spanish and Italian.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What is it about?” she asked seriously. She was incredibly intimidating.

I held the envelope tightly as I approached her desk. “This is a compiled report from the IT department, President,” I said as I carefully placed the folder on her table. “Subject: Gabriel Salazar, Finance Manager.”

She flipped to the first page. Her eyes scanned quickly, absorbing every word. “Restricted files… sss transfers?” she muttered, nodding slightly, clearly holding back a stronger reaction. “This is serious.”

I let out a sigh. “Yes, ma’am. Several spreadsheets classified under internal budget files were sent to an external email. Same address used multiple times. No official memo or coordination with any department,” I explained.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Gabriel’s been with us for five years, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She went quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “Do you think he’s selling company data?”

I paused. “Ma’am, we don’t have proof of that. There’s no transaction or email trail indicating he sold anything to an outside party. But the act of transferring internal documents to a personal account without clearance is a direct violation of our Code of Conduct and Confidentiality Agreement.”

“In other words…” she said, “you want him out.” She looked at me, which caught me off guard, but I didn’t let it show.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said firmly. “Immediate termination. For breach of trust and data privacy violations.”

I got nervous when I saw her staring at me—poker face on. Her usual expression whenever I’m in front of her.

President Monville didn’t speak for a full minute. She looked back down at the papers. Her finger was tapping against the desk—that’s her tell when she’s processing a heavy decision. Then she looked at me again, dead serious.

“Is there a risk this could blow up? Are we looking at a potential press issue?”

I shook my head. “Highly unlikely, ma’am. All data handling has been internal, and we’re containing the discussion strictly within HR and Executive. No one in the department knows yet. I already asked Mr. Guzman to restrict access in Finance to prevent any further leaks.”

“Good.” She stood and walked to the window, arms crossed. “Tell Mr. Lazaro I’m not going to be soft on this. You know how delicate Finance’s image is with the board. If even one rumour about leaked data spreads, we’ll lose trust points.”

“I understand, ma’am. That’s why I’m proposing we terminate him today—quietly, but formally. With proper documentation and a clearance procedure. We’ll walk him out with respect. No need for a scene.”

She walked back to the desk, picked up a pen from the side, and opened the last page of the folder—the HR recommendation form for immediate termination.

“You’re prepared,” she said while signing it.

I bit the inside of my lip, holding back a smile at what she said. Of course! I’m always prepared. I had to be.

I’m the HR Director.

“I had to be.”

She signed her name clean and sharp. “This is your operation now, Director Cortes. Make sure everything is watertight. I’ll notify Legal to stay on standby in case he tries to respond after this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She handed the signed document to me, then met my eyes again. She didn’t say anything, so I gave her a nod before excusing myself. As soon as I stepped out of the office, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I just got the green light to fire a high-ranking employee.

I headed straight for the elevator and pressed the open button. Inside, I closed my eyes for a moment.

But before I could fully sink into regulating my emotions, I heard the elevator doors open. A man stepped in. My eyes flew open, automatically. And everything happened so fast, I didn’t even have time to process but—damn.

What kind of creature is this?

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sharp jawline. Neatly-styled black hair. Crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. He was holding a tablet and a leather folder. And even though he was dressed simply, he was intimidating. Even more intimidating than the President.

And so. Damn. Handsome.

Even though he was wearing shades and I couldn’t see his whole face, I stared. Just for like two seconds. But those two seconds? Felt like they stretched into slow motion. That’s how disarming he was.

He moved his head slightly, and I quickly looked away. I kept holding my folder like I was super busy checking papers. But honestly? I was starting to feel hot inside the elevator—even though the aircon was blasting.

I could feel his presence to my left. His aura felt like it was mixing with the oxygen inside the elevator. It was making me self-conscious.

I COULD FEEL the eyes of everyone on me as I made my way to Salazar’s office. I could hear their murmurs, which made me shake my head. They saw the black folder in my hand—and that could only mean one thing: someone was about to get fired.

I was accompanied by two security guards and the Chief of the company’s Legal Service Team. That was probably another reason why we were attracting so much attention.

“Director Cortes… and Attorney Martin?” Salazar greeted, clearly uneasy. “Is there something you need?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir. We need to talk. Confidential.” I said seriously.

He stood from his desk and gestured to the small meeting table in the corner of the office. “Sit. Sit, please,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Sure.” We sat across from each other. I carefully opened the folder and turned the first page toward him.

“Mr. Salazar, after a series of internal reviews, and upon receiving reports from our IT department, we’ve identified multiple incidents of unauthorized access to confidential files—some of which were exported to a personal email address,” Attorney Martin stated directly.

Salazar loosened his necktie. He remained silent, eyes fixed on the paper. No expression on his face, but his jaw clenched tightly.

“Based on the logs,” I said, watching his face as he stared at the document, “these activities happened on multiple occasions, outside office hours, and without clearance.”

“Director, Attorney,” he finally spoke, voice low but steady. “I can explain.”

“I’m listening,” I replied.

“Some of those files—I brought them home to work on. I didn’t mean to violate any policy. And that email—it’s just a backup. Just in case I couldn’t access the files through the VPN,” he explained.

I rolled my eyes at that. Aish! If I could smack some sense into him, I would’ve.

I crossed my arms, staring at him with zero expression.

“Mr. Salazar, our policies are clear. Especially for department heads. We’re held to a higher standard when it comes to data privacy and confidentiality,” I said, calm and firm.

“Did someone from my team report me?” he suddenly asked, eyes narrowing. “Or did someone set me up?”

“No one set you up,” I answered.

“The investigation started internally. IT flagged the unusual access. And your account logs confirmed everything. No one else touched your credentials,” Attorney Martin added.

He stared at me—his gaze almost threatening. “So what now?”

I took a deep breath. “Effective today, your employment with the company is being terminated due to breach of trust and violations of data confidentiality. Here’s the full documentation.”

I handed him the termination notice along with the incident summary. He didn’t move right away. But when he finally reached for the papers, I noticed the faint trembling at his fingertips—even if he was trying not to show it.

“I see,” he whispered.

There was a brief silence. We both stayed quiet.

“I gave five years of my life to this company,” he murmured. “And this is how it ends?”

After a few seconds, Attorney Martin pulled out more papers from his briefcase and laid them out in front of Salazar. “Mr. Salazar… like you said, you’ve been here for almost five years. Then you should know the company policy, right?” he said gently.

Salazar looked at me with narrowed eyes, his expression turning sharp. I raised an eyebrow. What’s his problem? The audacity, man.

“Under company policy—specifically Section 5.3 of the Data Security and Confidentiality Guidelines—all confidential files must be accessed and transmitted only through secure and authorized channels. Any transfer to an external or personal email address constitutes a breach—regardless of intent,” Attorney added.

I sighed. “We’re following the procedure, Mr. Salazar. Legal has been informed, and HR will coordinate with you regarding your final pay and clearance. You’re also entitled to contest this decision through the proper channels.”

He laughed—cold and bitter. “No need. I know how this works,” he muttered.

He stood up from his seat.

“You want me out? Fine.” He grabbed his coat and slipped the termination notice into his laptop bag. “But don’t think for a second that this is over, Director Cortes.”

I didn’t flinch. “You’re still bound by the NDA you signed. Any breach will be met with legal action.”

We stared at each other for a long moment—silent, heavy with tension. Attorney Martin remained quiet but alert. The guards were also ready in case things escalated.

“I’m just doing my job here, Mr. Salazar,” I said.

He looked at me intensely and shook his head. “Do you even know how people here see you? You think it’s respect—but really, they see you as the hatchet woman. Every termination notice, your name is on it. Everyone who walks out crying? They came from your office.”

I didn’t respond. Honestly, that wasn’t new to me. I’ve heard the whispers. I’ve seen the looks. But if doing my job makes me the bad guy, then so be it.

After that, everyone went back to work. I thanked Attorney Martin and the guards before they left.

I stood in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. My eyes were fixed on the floor, the tip of my shoe tapping lightly, my hands clasped together.

I don’t feel sad. But I can’t help thinking about what Salazar said—about how people see me.

It’s not my fault I’m doing the right thing.

If it were up to me, I’d fire all of them too!

I just shook my head and stepped into the elevator as it opened. It was about to close when someone walked in—someone I knew was about to ruin my day.

“Oh, good day, my workmate!” she greeted me with an annoyingly smug smile.

Good day, your face, b***h.

I kept my poise and forced a small smile. “You too, Ms. Reyes,” I replied, trying to sound professional.

Forgive me, self. I didn’t actually want to greet her. There's nothing "good" about this day now that I’ve seen her. She’s not even remotely worthy of a “Good day.”

I’d rather greet a cockroach than her.

But I had to acknowledge her. I couldn’t just ignore her or she might start getting suspicious—like I was plotting to have her cursed or something. I should’ve worn earphones before I fired Salazar earlier. That way, I’d have a valid excuse not to engage with her.

“Trying to be professional, huh? I heard you fired someone again… from Finance, right?” she said, scoffing bitterly.

“Yeah. Just doing my job, Ms. Reyes. I hope you are too,” I said, still keeping it professional.

“Firing people who actually need the job? I see.” I wanted to roll my eyes at that. “And yes, I am doing my job. Very, very well.”

“I don’t fire people without basis. You know that, right? As the director of my department, I always ensure the termination process follows proper legal and procedural steps. I don’t make those decisions alone,” I replied seriously—still forcing a smile.

“Of course,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Why? Is there a problem?” I asked.

Here she goes again… with her nonsense. Does she have some kind of allergy to beautiful women? I honestly don’t know what her parents fed her growing up, but her attitude toward me? It was terrible from the start. Then again, the feeling’s mutual. My first impression of her was even worse.

I had a better first impression of a monkey than I did of her.

Poor girl.

I guess I’m just so beautiful that the only way she could deal with it was by being hostile. Why doesn’t she just look in the mirror and fight herself instead?

She scoffed in disbelief. “You really have no conscience, do you? That guy was literally begging you, and you still fired him,” she snapped.

I kept my composure. “He never begged me, Ms. Reyes. And how has this became your problem, Ms. Reyes?” I said, pretending to be confused.

“He needed that job, Leiria! But you still fired him!”

The heck?

What the actual hell is her problem? Why is she so bothered?

“Does that have anything to do with you?” I asked.

I could feel her glaring at me. “You don’t deserve your position!”

One of my eyebrows shot up. “Pardon?” I couldn’t help it—my professional poise cracked a little.

I crossed my arms and turned my body fully toward her. She looked startled when she saw the expression on my face, and I noticed how tightly she clutched her folder. How dare she?

“FYI, Ms. Reyes… I didn’t study Bachelor of Science in Business Administration for four years, didn’t take a Master’s in Human Resource Management for a year and a half, didn’t work two years as a relations specialist, and another year as a supervisor—and now, as HR Director—just for you to say I don’t deserve this position,” I said, sharp and direct.

That delivery was so clean—I could probably audition as a rapper at YG Entertainment.

“Any comments?” I added, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed sarcastically. “You’re unbelievable,” she said just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

She left.

I curled my upper lip in disgust as I watched her walk away. Once the elevator doors closed, I threw a mock punch in the air—pretending she was right in front of me.

Her hair’s so long, it would’ve been perfect for dragging and yanking. And while I’m at it, I could choke her a little for good measure. Then push her off the rooftop—with Jesh and Miller, too.

Might as well throw in Salazar.

I’m a nice person, okay? So nice that God decided to bless me with a whole bunch of pests in my life.

LUNCH TIME came and we stepped out of the building to grab something to eat. We’re allowed to go out during lunch break anyway. I was honestly sick of the food at the company cafeteria. I don’t even know why so many people still eat there.

We arrived at the Italian restaurant owned by Miller’s sister. The scent of freshly baked garlic bread and simmering tomato sauce instantly hugged my senses. This wasn’t our first time here—we’d eaten here a few times before.

The place was cozy—wooden tables, soft yellow lighting, and vines hanging by the windows. There were potted plants everywhere, even in the corners, giving the whole space a calm, earthy vibe.

It’s close to the company. Around seven to ten minutes by car if there’s no traffic and you’re driving at a normal pace.

If you’re planning to walk, though… like, what the hell are you on?

Our table was by the glass wall. I was with Jesh, Miller, and Amy. We brought Amy along too since she’s been my assistant, and I’ve started including her with the three of us.

What’s annoying though—especially with Jesher—is that I somehow ended up the one paying for everyone’s meal. Good thing I brought some cash with me. I gave in because Jesh sent me money to my account anyway. I’m just not sure if this still counts as me treating them, because technically I’m using her money.

I feel kinda dumb, honestly.

I was scanning their menu, trying to find something good. Everything looked appetising, to be fair.

“What’s your order, ma’am, sir? For the main course?” the waiter asked.

“Uhm, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, Lasagna al Forno, and Seafood Linguine,” Jesh said while pointing to what she wanted on the menu.

I couldn’t help but look at her because—seriously?

“How about you guys?” She looked at the rest of us and even raised an eyebrow at me. Is she serious?

Next was Miller. “Lasagna alla Bolognese and Margherita Pizza.” I frowned at him too.

“Ooh, this sounds good—Pollo Parmigiana and Fettuccine Alfredo,” said Amy.

My jaw dropped at all their orders.

We’re broke, you guys!

“How about you, ma’am?” The waiter asked, turning to me.

“M-Me?” I rolled my eyes at the three of them and shot them a sharp look. “Gnocchi al Pesto, please,” I said to the waiter with a forced smile.

“How about drinks, ma’ams, sir?”

“Iced Limonata,” said Jesh.

“Italian soda—raspberry,” said Miller.

“Same, raspberry Italian soda,” Amy added.

I glanced at the menu. “Soda—the Vanilla one,” I said.

“How about dessert?” Bro, please stop.

I swallowed hard.

That’s two days’ worth of budget down the drain! These leeches.

“Guys, want some Tiramisu?” Jesh asked. We all nodded. “Tiramisu, please,” she told the waiter, who noted it down.

“Can you add Cannoli, please?” added Miller.

“How about Gelato? Do you guys want to?” Amy asked. The other two nodded.

I stared at the three of them, giving them a look that screamed Are you serious right now? “Wow. Are you guys even using your own money?” I asked sarcastically.

Like, damn, is this still considered my treat? Isn’t the one treating supposed to be the one calling the shots? I mean, sure, they can pick what they want, but where’s the shame in their bones—wait, shame?

Do these three even have shame? When it comes to food… I doubt it.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, frowning, as all the food started arriving one after another.

“Food?” Jesh replied, half-asking.

“Are you guys trying to drain my wallet?” I barked at them.

“Come on! We love you!” said Miller, which earned him a smack from me.

“What does that even have to do with anything? I don’t even have the money to pay for all this, you idiots!” I snapped.

“We’ll just wash their dishes after we eat!” I smacked him again after that comment.

“You can stay in the kitchen alone, dumbass!”

“How much do you have?” Jesh asked.

“One thousand pesos. With this much food? That’s not gonna cut it, kids.” I rubbed my forehead.

“Ma’am, they’ve got a card scanner. You can use a card,” Amy chimed in.

I had no choice—they had already devoured everything we ordered. When we finished eating and the bill arrived, I was seriously second-guessing handing over my card to pay.

My friends are all bottomless pits!

Too late. My card got swiped.

And I am not paying Jesh back the ten thousand she sent me—that’s already her payment for her part of the order. Because this? This isn’t even a treat anymore. Has anyone ever seen someone treating people and complaining about how much they’re ordering? No, right?