Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
I had worked overtime for two and a half months straight. With just seven days left until my probation ended, my team lead, Rick, called me into his office.
"You're not cut out for this," he sneered, slamming my file onto his desk. "The company decided not to offer you a full-time position."
I stared at him, almost laughing out loud.
For three months, I had carried the workload of all five people on our team. I stayed past midnight every single day, only to be told I was "incompetent"?
I turned around to leave.
Rick grabbed my shoulder and shoved me hard back into my seat.
"Leaving? Not a chance!" He jabbed his finger at the monitor. "You're handling this project. If you walk now, who finishes it? You finish your final week, or else!"
He leaned in close, his voice dropping into a venomous whisper. "Walk out now, and you won't see a dime of your internship pay. I'll make sure you don't get your recommendation letter, either. Who do you think you are? You think your daddy owns this place?"
I looked at him and smiled.
He guessed right.
My dad actually did own the company.
"On top of the project proposal, sort through these files by tomorrow morning!"
Rick dumped a massive stack of folders onto my desk, his chin tilted up arrogantly.
"Have them ready before work starts, or kiss your three months' pay goodbye!"
Watching him gloat, I didn't feel angry. I just felt amused. If he knew my dad had sent me here as an undercover intern to learn the ropes from the ground up, would he still be smiling?
"Aren't these the documents Mr. Miller assigned to you in this morning's meeting?" I asked coldly, meeting his gaze.
"Just do what you're told!" Rick exploded, jabbing his finger in my face. "You know why you failed probation? You talk too damn much! Try slacking off, and I swear I'll ruin you!"
For the past two months, I had been doing everyone's work. I worked until 2 AM every night, hoping to earn a permanent spot on merit and prove myself to my dad.
Instead, I got treated like dirt.
Catching these corporate parasites myself would probably make my dad prouder than passing some regular internship anyway.
Seeing me sit still, Rick slammed his hand down on the files. "What are you staring at? Need a written invitation?"
I scooped up the stack and walked to my isolated corner desk.
Right as I sat down, Sarah from the next desk tossed a stack of receipts at me while pinching her nose.
"Hey, newbie. Tape these expense receipts for me. Do it neatly, or you're paying if finance rejects them." Her voice carried across the open office. "Oh, and go downstairs to pick up my package. It's a huge box of paper towels. You can handle that alone, right?"
A few snickers broke out around the room.
I looked down and sorted the papers. Sarah exchanged a smirk with Kevin across the aisle.
At noon, I grabbed my lunch, ready to eat.
Rick strolled over holding his mug, brown stains coating the rim.
"Taking lunch already? No slackers allowed on my team." He slammed the mug down on my keyboard with a wet thud. "Go wash it. Use boiling water. I hate germs."
Coffee splashed between the keys. My hands hovered in mid-air.
"What? Too good to run errands now?" His tone turned dangerous.
I picked up the cup and headed to the breakroom.
Behind me, he barked out a laugh. "See that? That's what being obedient looks like!"
When I returned, my takeout container was gone.
Kevin held up a half-eaten chicken leg, waving it at me with a grin. "Sorry, thought you weren't hungry. Did you a favor."
A female coworker beside him giggled. "Kevin, that's messed up! But thanks for saving the food, haha."
All afternoon, I buried myself in that massive pile of chaotic documents.
Right before quitting time, Rick slammed a folder onto my desk.
"What kind of garbage is this? You're embarrassing the whole team!"
It wasn't even my work. It was Sarah's morning report.
"This isn't mine—"
"Talking back again?" he cut me off, spit flying onto my cheek. "Redo the whole thing tonight! If it's not done by tomorrow, get the hell out!"
He stormed into his office and slammed the door.
Sarah slowly packed her designer bag. Passing my desk, she leaned down and whispered, "Don't blame me, sweetie. Blame yourself for getting on Rick's bad side. You're out of here in a week anyway. Just suck it up."
The office emptied quickly. One by one, the lights clicked off.
I sat alone in the dark, listening to their laughter fade down the hallway.
Someone was definitely getting kicked out in a week.
It just wasn't going to be me.The next morning, Rick called me into his private office and flicked an invitation across the desk.
"Tomorrow night. You're coming with us to meet a VIP client."
I didn't pick it up. "Mr. Lee, client entertainment isn't part of my job description."
"It is now," he smirked. "It's an assignment. Refuse, and it counts as gross insubordination. Zero pay."
Sarah chimed in from the doorway, "Come on, Chloe. Rick is doing you a favor, letting you see the real corporate world. Don't be ungrateful."
Watching them play good-cop-bad-cop, I almost told them to pack their desks right then and there.
Swallowing my anger, I managed a small smile.
"Fine. I'll go see how the real world works."
That night, we were in a private dining suite at an upscale club. The table groaned under platters of expensive seafood and rare vintage bottles.
No wonder Sarah's reimbursement receipts were always so high. They were living large on corporate funds.
The client was Mr. Warren, a greasy, middle-aged businessman whose eyes locked onto me the second I walked in.
Rick shoved me into the seat right next to Warren.
"Mr. Warren, this is our newest intern, Chloe. Brought her along specifically to meet you."
Sarah immediately poured a tall glass of hard liquor and pushed it in front of me. "Chloe, toast Mr. Warren! Thank him for giving us this deal."
I looked at the clear liquid and said evenly, "I don't drink."
Rick's face darkened. "Ruining the mood already?"
Sarah leaned in, digging her acrylic nails into my arm, and hissed, "Play nice if you want that internship sign-off."
Keeping my left hand on the audio recorder hidden in my pocket, I raised the glass with my right. "To you, Mr. Warren."
The burning liquid scorched my throat and churned my stomach.
Warren roared with laughter, slamming a heavy, sweaty hand onto my back and leaving it there. "Fantastic! Rick, this new girl gets it!"
Rick beamed. "Glad you like her! Chloe, top off Mr. Warren's glass!"
Sarah kept pouring drinks, piling on sickening flatteries. No matter how many times I declined, they forced glass after glass into my hands.
Eventually, Rick practically held my head back to force the liquor down my throat, whispering viciously in my ear:
"Keep resisting, and see if I don't let someone handle you tonight! Little girl, consider this your first real lesson in the corporate world!"
Half a bottle of high-proof liquor down, my vision blurred. My stomach convulsed violently.
I pushed back my chair and stumbled up. "Excuse me. Restroom."
I bolted into a stall and threw up until my ribs ached.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Rick:
Where the hell are you? Get back here now! Mr. Warren is losing patience!
I washed my face, opened the door, and froze.
Sarah was standing by our table, stealthily dripping liquid from an eye dropper into my glass.
Finally.
I raised my phone and took a clear photo from the doorway.
Seeing me return, Sarah swiftly hid the small vial and slid the glass toward me like nothing happened.
"There you are, Chloe! Quick, Mr. Warren is waiting for another round."
Rick stared at me, his eyes cold and predatory. "Don't just stand there! Keeping Mr. Warren waiting calls for three penalty shots!"
Everyone's eyes bored into me.
I looked at the spiked drink, then at Rick and Sarah, who looked at me like wolves eyeing a trapped rabbit.
There was no turning back now.
I picked up the glass and drained it in one gulp.
Within three minutes, my vision spun. My limbs turned to lead, and I collapsed backward onto the couch.
Rick rushed over instantly, dragging my limp body into an adjoining VIP lounge.
"Mr. Warren, fresh out of college! Pure as they come!" Rick boasted. "Consider this a personal gift. Just make sure you take care of me on this contract... you know what I mean."
Warren unbuttoned his shirt, grinning as he lumbered toward me. "Rick, my boy, you know how to treat a client. I won't let you down. Forget a ten percent kickback. If this girl pleases me, I'll give you fifty percent!"
Greed flared in Rick and Sarah's eyes.
Together, they started stripping off my blazer and blouse. I was completely paralyzed, unable to move a finger.
Within moments, I was down to my lingerie.
Warren let out a sickening laugh. "Soft and fair. Just how I like them."
He reached out to touch me.
A split second before his hand landed, the heavy lounge doors were kicked wide open.
"Police! Nobody move!"The moment the officers stormed in, Rick leaped back from me like he'd been electrocuted.
Sarah shrieked, dropping her glass as it shattered on the floor.
Warren hitched up his trousers, his face paper-white. "Officers, this is a misunderstanding! A total misunderstanding!"
Rick smoothed his expression into an oily smile. "Just an after-work get-together with coworkers, officers!"
I had dialed 911 from the restroom stall before returning. Thank God they made it in time.
The lead officer looked at me—barely dressed, semi-conscious on the couch—and his face hardened.
"Take them all in!"
At the police precinct, I sat wrapped in an emergency blanket, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.
Across the table, Rick, Sarah, and Warren sat comfortably, looking completely relaxed.
"Officer, it really isn't what you think," Rick began smoothly, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "It's her! She wanted an easy promotion and threw herself at Mr. Warren!"
Sarah wiped away fake tears, shaking her head. "It's true, Officer! We tried to stop her! She openly bragged about wanting a rich sponsor so she wouldn't have to work hard!"
Warren straightened his designer suit, putting on the air of a dignified CEO. "I was just doing business with Rick. This girl clearly has loose morals."
I snapped my head up, glaring at them with pure hatred.
Rick caught my eyes, the corner of his mouth curling into a sinister smirk. He silently mouthed:
Say. One. Word. Try. Me.
Sarah looked at me too, cold menace radiating from her stare.
The officer taking notes frowned and looked at me. "Ms. Vance, is this true?"
I parted my lips.
Rick cleared his throat loudly.
In that instant, the murderous threat in his eyes was crystal clear.
I knew that if I pressed charges right now without my father's full backing, they would ensure I suffered a fatal "accident" before the week was out.
I lowered my head, digging my nails into my palms until they bled.
"...Yes," I whispered. "It was consensual."
The officer looked between me and the three conspirators, sighed, and closed his notebook. "Handle your personal disputes elsewhere."
Rick jumped up, beaming. "Thank you so much, Officer! Sorry for the trouble!"
As he walked past my chair, he leaned down and whispered, "Smart girl. Call the cops on me again, and you won't walk away next time."
I didn't go home right away.
I took a cab straight to the emergency room at City General Hospital.
"Full toxicology screen and blood panel, please."
An hour later, the doctor frowned deeply at the results. "Miss, you have extremely high levels of Rohypnol in your system. We should notify the police—"
"No," I cut him off, taking the paperwork. "Please seal this official lab report and issue a formal forensic injury exam certificate."
I took all the evidence—the sealed medical reports, the injury certificate, the timestamped audio and photos from my phone—and uploaded them to an encrypted cloud drive.
By the time I finished, dawn was breaking.
When I opened the front door of our family estate, my dad was sitting in the living room, looking sick with worry.
"Chloe! Where have you been? Your phone was completely off!"
"Dad, I'm okay. We just... had to stay late to wrap up the project."
"Two days left of your probation," Dad said, his eyes filled with hope. "I sent you down to the bottom tier because I wanted to see you grow and lead on your own merits. Are you ready?"
I lifted my head. Exhaustion weighed heavy on my face, but my eyes were terrifyingly calm.
I smiled faintly.
"Dad."
"I promise you. In two days, I'll give you a result that will blow you away."The next morning, I pushed open the office doors.
Every pair of eyes turned toward me, filled with open, mocking disgust.
Sarah strutted past my desk holding her iced latte. "Well, look who made it back! So, how was Mr. Warren's bed? Cozy?"
Kevin immediately chimed in from his cubicle, "Sarah, you don't get it. That's called an investment! One night on her back saves thirty years of desk work!"
"Seriously. Young girls these days have zero shame. Us honest workers could never stoop that low."
Cruel laughter exploded through the open space.
I sat down at my desk without a word and booted up my PC.
A new email popped into my inbox with no sender name.
Attached was a photo: me from two nights ago, half-dressed and passed out cold on the VIP lounge couch.
Message: This one is cropped. Bring up that night again, and the uncensored version goes to everyone you know.
Rick poked his head out of his corner office, twirling his phone with a sadistic grin.
Sarah walked over, pretending to adjust some folders on my desk, and whispered in my ear: "Reputation is everything, sweetie. Keep your head down for two more days and we leave you alone. Otherwise... well, you've seen the preview."
I said nothing, merely smiling down at my keyboard.
For the next forty-eight hours, their harassment dropped all pretense.
"Chloe, do a full physical audit of the entire warehouse inventory. I need the sheet before 5 PM!"
"Chloe, order lunch and afternoon coffee for the whole floor, then go pick it up! Can't you do a simple task right?"
"Write my son's high school internship application essay tonight. It's due tomorrow morning."
Finally, Rick slammed a massive binder onto my desk.
"Take this. Build the deck and write the keynote speech for the group's mid-year executive conference." He sneered openly. "You're getting fired in two days anyway. Might as well squeeze the last drop of use out of you. A cheap whore blacklisted by Warren won't find a job anywhere in this city. Be grateful I'm giving you work."
I gathered the binder silently and sat down.
I wasn't writing a speech for him.
I was building his guillotine.
On the morning of the conference, the main auditorium was packed with dozens of employees and senior managers.
Rick was dressed in a sharp three-piece suit, his hair slicked back, practically glowing with arrogance.
He threw me a contemptuous smirk from the front row, his eyes practically shouting: Watch me take full credit for your work, then toss you out like garbage.
Confident as ever, he strode onto the stage, plugged in his flash drive, and opened the file labeled Project Team A: Mid-Year Review.
The massive projection screen flickered to life.
There were no graphs. No metrics. No sales figures.
Just one massive sentence in bold, black font:
I AM INCOMPETENT TRASH, AND I DO NOT BELONG IN THIS COMPANY.
Dead silence blanketed the room.
A second later, a wave of stunned whispers broke out.
Rick's face drained of every drop of color.
He whipped his head around, his eyes locking onto me with pure rage.
He grabbed the wireless presenter remote and smashed it onto the stage, roaring at me:
"Chloe Vance! You dare set me up?!"
"You're fired! Right now! Every penny of your salary is forfeit! Forget your recommendation letter!"
"I swear to God, I won't just blacklist you from this industry—I will hire people to ruin your life so thoroughly you won't survive in this city!"
Every head in the room turned toward me.
I slowly stood up from the back row, a cold smile playing on my lips.
"Rick."
"Do you even know who you're talking to right now?"
Veins bulged along Rick's neck as he lost his mind completely, screaming at the top of his lungs:
"Who the hell are you?! I'm your boss! I'm your fucking god!"
SLAM!
The heavy mahogany double doors of the auditorium swung wide open.
Surrounded by a team of stone-faced bodyguards and the company's top executive board, my dad strode into the room.
His gaze cut straight through the crowd, locking onto Rick frozen on stage.
The air in the room froze solid.
My dad spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like an icy blade:
"You're her god?"
"Then who the hell am I?"
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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