Chapter 2

My former clients immediately began commenting under my post.

"Aria! Come to my company. I'll triple whatever salary they were paying you!"

"Triple? That's thinking too small. Aria, name your price. My firm is always open to you."

My Snapchat buzzed. It was Eleanor Vance, one of my biggest clients. "Aria, what is going on? We literally just discussed our quarterly contract. You resigned before we even signed?"

I typed back, "I'm sorry, Eleanor. My name was put on the company's restructuring list. A new representative will reach out to you shortly."

She sent a confused emoji. "You? Laid off?"

"Is your firm trying to go bankrupt?"

I replied with a helpless shrug emoji.

She immediately texted back:

"If you aren't managing our account, I will have to reconsider this partnership entirely."

Seeing these messages, a wave of relief washed over me.

Having spent ten years in this industry, I had built an ironclad network of high-profile clients. Many competitors had tried to headhunt me with massive signing bonuses, but I had always turned them down.

I believed in loyalty.

Ten years ago, when I freshly graduated from college, I sent out hundreds of resumes and got nothing but rejections. Just when I was about to give up, Richard Davis, the CEO of this company, gave me a chance.

To repay that debt, I worked tirelessly. I treated every small task with absolute perfection. I secured deal after deal, single-handedly boosting the department's revenue and ensuring everyone got their bonuses.

But lately, things had gone sour.

A week ago, Chloe and her "elite team" made a massive logistical error that almost cost the company millions. I pointed out their mistake during a meeting. That very night, Richard called me to "remind me of my place" and deducted my monthly bonus.

Three days ago, Chloe encouraged the team to practice "quiet quitting" and leave exactly at 5 PM, leaving half-finished client presentations behind. I stayed up all night to clean up their mess. Yet, behind my back, they called me a "toxic micro-manager."

Suddenly, the company-wide WhatsApp group lit up.

[Effective today, Chloe Davis is officially promoted to Executive Director of Sales.]

The group chat exploded with celebratory emojis and congratulatory messages. Many of them were from junior employees I had personally trained and mentored from scratch.

Those messages woke me up. This place was no longer worth my loyalty.

"Aria." Chloe pushed my office door open, looking around at my half-packed boxes. "Cleaning out your desk?"

"Make sure you wipe it down before you leave. Consider it practice for your future housework."

"Take your time. Enjoy your final moments of contributing to this company!"

I gave her a flat look and ignored her.

My silence annoyed her. She stepped closer, pointing a manicured finger at me. "Why are you acting so high and mighty? So what if you were the top sales representative? I fired you with a single sentence."

I let out a soft laugh. "Is that so?"

"Did your uncle actually sign off on this layoff list?"

"Or did you make this decision all by yourself?"

Richard had been on an business trip in Europe for the past two weeks, unreachable unless it was an absolute emergency. I knew for a fact he had no idea.

After all, no sane CEO would fire their top performer of ten years—the very backbone of the company's revenue.

Chloe flinched slightly, her confidence wavering for a fraction of a second, before she puffed out her chest again. "My uncle adores me. My family practically owns this place. You're just an employee. Why would there be any consequences for firing you?"

"Stop trying to scare me. You're just bitter because you're washed up and nobody else wants you!"

I smiled gently. "Chloe, I highly doubt you can handle this position."

She tried to snap back, but stumbled over her words.

I continued, "Do you even know our clients' preferences? Do you know how to negotiate a contract? Can you even draft a viable proposal?"

"This position isn't for a pretty trophy, Chloe. Your textbook theories won't survive in the real world."

"I suggest you get to work. Otherwise, you might end up begging me to come back."

I picked up my box and walked past her. She shrieked behind me, "Beg you to come back? In your dreams!"

"Leave your client logs before you go!"

I tapped my temple. "They're all up here. Good luck."

As I walked through the open office, not a single person stood up to say goodbye.

I didn't feel sad anymore. Instead, I felt a strange curiosity. Without me there to fix their mistakes and fight for their bonuses, I wondered how long they would enjoy their "stress-free" work life.

Let's see how long this company lasts.