Chapter 4

"You!"

Rage erupted. I glared at Chloe.

"What right do you have to touch my things? This is my personal property!"

Chloe crossed her arms and scoffed. "Elena, do you still think you're the Head of Tech?"

"You're just an ungrateful, fired washed-up woman."

"Your trash was taking up space. I did you a favor by cleaning it. No need to thank me."

Inhaling deeply, I walked over to the trash can and knelt down to pick up my notes and certificates.

Suddenly, Chloe’s high heel kicked forward.

Crash! Glass shards flew everywhere.

I instinctively shielded my face with my arms, but I was too late.

A sharp piece of glass sliced across my left cheek.

"Ah!"

I cried out in pain, covering my cheek. Warm blood immediately seeped through my fingers.

A few of my former team members had gathered at the door.

Seeing this, they tried to rush in. "Elena! Are you okay?"

"Stop right there!" Chloe barked, glaring at the crowd. "Let's see who dares to help her."

"The Tech Department is undergoing a restructuring. I haven't submitted the layoff list to Arthur yet."

"If anyone wants to pack their bags with this fired loser, step right up!"

Her threat worked like a bucket of ice water. The employees froze at the door.

Only Hathaway, a girl I had personally mentored from her internship days, broke through and ran to help me up.

"Elena, oh my god, you're bleeding. Come on, I'm taking you to the ER."

Chloe’s face turned green. She pointed at Hathaway. "You're fired too! Get out of my sight!"

Hathaway helped me stand up and glared at Chloe. "Gladly. Let's go, Elena."

At the hospital, Hathaway was still shaking with rage.

"Hathaway, I'm so sorry. I dragged you into this," I said, my voice hoarse.

"Don't say that," Hathaway shook her head quickly. "It's not your fault at all."

"Management and Chloe have been treating us like garbage."

"We work ourselves to the bone for the product, and they just say we're burning cash. Our salary is a joke, and Arthur even cut our bonuses. Who would want to work for that jerk anyway?"

"So, what's your plan now?"

"I... I don't know," she muttered, rubbing her hands nervously.

I suddenly thought of Stuart’s profitable company.

I took out my phone and dialed his number.

"Stuart, does your company need people? Product development. I have a brilliant colleague..."

"Yes!" Stuart answered without a second of hesitation. "I've been waiting for you to say that."

"My company is where you belong, Elena."

"Bring your people over. I'll match whatever you want!"

Hathaway’s eyes lit up. The very next day, she joined Stuart's company with me.

We quickly formed a new team and began developing a direct competitor product targeting Arthur's core market.

A few days later, Hathaway whispered to me:

"Elena, some of our old colleagues from Tech reached out. They want to know if we're hiring."

"Chloe pushed Arthur to lay off more people, and a bunch of them got sacked. They're looking for jobs."

After a moment's thought, I nodded. "Tell them to come."

Soon, a familiar yet completely revitalized team was assembled.

Our goal was crystal clear: build a superior product and crush Arthur's business.

By the end of the year, the contract for the "Smart Community" project was up for bidding.

This was the crown jewel Arthur's company was desperate to secure, and it was our primary target.

On the day the results were announced, we won.

This meant Arthur's company lost at least ten million dollars in projected revenue.

That night, Arthur posted a bitter, passive-aggressive message on LinkedIn, hinting that "disloyal employees stole trade secrets to engage in malicious competition."

Chloe was more direct. She shared the news article on Twitter with the caption:

"Some people will do anything for money. Stealing Arthur's project and poaching his team. Aren't you afraid of karma?"

I smiled and put my phone down.

On Friday, I took my team out to celebrate.

The atmosphere was amazing. Everyone was raising their glasses.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

I declined it.

The next second, the door of our private dining room was pushed open.

Two uniformed police officers walked in, their eyes locking onto me.

"Elena Lewis? We received a formal complaint."

"You are suspected of stealing proprietary technical secrets before leaving your former employer."

"Please come with us to the station to assist with the investigation."

The room fell dead silent. All glasses froze in mid-air.

Hathaway was the first to react. "Officers, that's impossible!"