My executive boyfriend, Marcus Winters, had always wanted the regional president seat. Then his favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, complained that I always got the spotlight, and he deliberately sabotaged my car. The crash broke both my hands, leaving me unable to compete in the design contest that could decide the board vote. He handed my entry slot to Sophie and expected me to accept it quietly.

When I confronted him, he said it was only one competition and that, as design director, I should give younger employees a chance. To prove his "fairness," he stripped me of my director title and docked six months of my pay to compensate the team.

Everyone waited for me to fight back.

Instead, I nodded, calm and silent.

Marcus was pleased. He promised that once his promotion came through, he would restore my position and publicly announce our relationship.

I smiled coldly and told him we were done. I had already submitted my resignation.

What Marcus did not know was that the board and I had made a private agreement: if I won the championship and secured the decisive vote, the person I named would become regional president. I had been preparing to name him.

Now he had not only replaced me with Sophie, but also encouraged her to submit a fraudulent design. Once the contest ended, the only thing waiting for him was termination, a ruined career, and a bill he could never afford.

The moment I said it, my boyfriend, Marcus Winters, slapped me twice across the face.

He frowned and snapped, "What are you making a scene for now?

"Everything I did was for your own good. And now you're using resignation to punish me?"

The sharp sound of the slap drew every eye in the room.

Marcus's favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, immediately stepped forward to defend him when she saw his expression darken.

"I honestly don't know what else you want. Marcus has already done so much for you. Why are you still not satisfied?

"If Marcus hadn't vouched for you in front of the board chair, do you think you'd still be standing here after abusing your authority and monopolizing the department's only competition slot year after year? You should know better than to be ungrateful."

Then she turned to Marcus, full of righteous anger.

"Marcus, I really don't think you should keep protecting her. Look at her face. Does she look sorry at all?

"Your kindness is completely wasted on her."

Her words were almost laughable.

Was Marcus's so-called kindness meant for me, or for her?

She knew the answer better than anyone.

Yet she had the nerve to stand there and accuse me in public.

If not for Sophie, why would Marcus have sabotaged my car just because she said, "If Julia keeps taking the spotlight every time, what about the rest of the department's rising talent?"

He caused an accident so I would break both hands and miss the competition.

Then I could only watch as he handed my place to Sophie.

That was not all. Marcus also demanded that I give Sophie my design draft so she could "study" it.

When I tried to stop him, he raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

"Julia, you're a designer. Your hands are broken now, so you can't compete. If Sophie takes your design onstage, I'm helping you. Someone else will simply accept the award for you."

"Besides, to you, it's just one lost championship. It's not a big deal. But for Sophie, this competition is crucial.

"You've won the design championship so many times. It's time to make room for younger talent, isn't it?

"They're the future of this company. I'm thinking about the company. Stop being so unreasonable."

After saying that, he shoved me aside, opened the drawer, and took my design files.

The force sent me crashing to the floor, fracturing my already injured hands a second time.

I looked down at my arms wrapped in bandages and gave a bitter laugh.

I had fought for the championship year after year only to raise my value, negotiate with the board chair, and secure Marcus's promotion.

Now he was accusing me of being selfish.

The department employees saw what happened and immediately joined in, scolding me without caring who was right or wrong.

"An ungrateful person like her isn't worth another word."

"Exactly. She only cares about herself. As long as she's here, no one else in the department will ever get a chance."

"Anyone who damages team unity should be pushed out of the company."

Someone picked up a broom and swept it aggressively near my feet, as though they meant to drive me out right there.

I was about to speak when someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled and almost fell.

The movement pulled at both injured hands, and a piercing pain shot through me.

I clenched my teeth, cold sweat breaking across my back.

Seeing sweat bead across my forehead, Marcus finally spoke up.

"Enough. Stop messing around.

"Her hands are broken. She's still a patient. The competition is over anyway. Everyone say less.

"Don't talk about firing her again. If she can give up one competition slot, she can give up a second. That's good for everyone in the department."

On the surface, Marcus was defending me.

In truth, he had just handed the department a reason to hurt me again.

If my hands kept being injured before competitions, someone else could always replace me.

Then they would not have to work hard to earn a slot, nor resent me for winning every year.

Marcus could use that to win loyalty and establish his authority.

What a clever calculation.

The fake concern on his face only made my heart colder. I no longer wanted to argue.

The pain in my arms reminded me that if I delayed treatment any longer, my hands might never heal properly.

But when I turned my head, I saw the usually proud Marcus personally pouring tea for Sophie.

He peeled an apple for her, then carved the pieces into little rabbits before handing them over.

The people around them immediately exchanged knowing looks.

Sophie blushed and said, "Don't look at me like that. He's only taking care of a junior designer."

That was what she said, but everyone around her smirked with obvious understanding.

The sight pressed against my chest until even breathing felt difficult.

I had no desire to keep watching. Under the strange gazes of the crowd, I fled the office.

Sophie had never been qualified to join the company in the first place.

She had simply been lucky enough to run into Marcus when he was heading out.

They had not seen each other in years, yet after one meal, Marcus arranged everything for her.

Just like that, she became a member of the senior design team.

At first, I thought she was honest and hardworking, only a little weak in technical skill.

Then I asked her to help organize a draft and discovered she did not even understand basic color correction.

From that day on, I realized Sophie's problem was not that her design ability was weak.

She had no design ability at all.

I told Marcus many times that she could not pass the monthly review and that keeping her there would only hurt her.

Every time, Marcus agreed. Every time, he did nothing.

Then I caught him secretly giving my drafts to Sophie.

Only then did I understand. It was not that he refused to listen. He simply had no intention of removing Sophie.

Even after I caught him, he did not stop. Instead, he asked if I had any better preliminary designs.

After all the years we had been together, the first time he begged me for anything was for Sophie, a useless opportunist who could not design.

When I refused, he pleaded.

"Sophie can't leave the company yet. Her younger brother is seriously ill and in the hospital. He needs a huge amount of money every month for treatment.

"I'm her mentor. I can't abandon her.

"You understand, right?"

I softened when I heard that and handed over a design I had just finished.

Only later did I learn there was no sick brother. It was just another lie Marcus had used to manipulate me.

The elevator reached the first floor.

I walked outside and hailed a cab to the hospital.

At my request, the driver opened my contacts and dialed a number that had been buried for years.

As the phone rang, my heart tightened.

The next second, a familiar teasing male voice came through.

"Well, if it isn't our little star. What made you remember your old mentor today?"

Hearing that familiar tone, the tension in my chest finally loosened.

"Dean, does the offer you made me back then still stand?"

He fell silent for several seconds.

Just when I thought that was the end of it and was about to hang up, his excited voice burst through the receiver.

"Julia, do you have any idea how many years I've been waiting for you to ask that?

"I'll book the ticket right now. Pack your things. When you land, Carla will pick you up."

Hearing long-lost concern, my nose stung and my vision blurred.

But I could not leave yet. My resignation process was not complete, and there were things I still had to settle with Marcus.

I interrupted Dean's rapid-fire instructions.

"I'll come in a few days. I still have handover work to finish."

After agreeing on a deadline, I hung up.

Dean was now a well-known figure in the design world. He had opened a thriving design firm with several other former classmates and mentors.

Back then, they all told me not to leave, that I should stay with them and grow steadily.

Design required focus and energy. I had known that.

But I touched the plain ring Marcus had given me, and my decision hardened.

I could not let Marcus struggle alone in a strange city while I enjoyed stability.