The new project was short on staff. Over everyone's objections, I pulled three former colleagues out of an overlooked department where they'd been warming the bench for years. The four of us became the project's core team.

The bonus was generous, the workload light. They all said I was their lucky charm.

Three months later, with delivery just around the corner, I passed the break room and overheard them talking.

"The biggest credit for this project belongs to the three of us. Why should Chloe get an equal share of the bonus just because she recommended us? She barely did any real work."

"Exactly. Let's talk to the director. We'll say all the core work was done by us, that she's not up to the task. We'll apply to have her removed from the contributors list."

"Just thinking about not having to split those tens of thousands with her—it feels amazing."

I pushed the door open. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled.

They wanted to kick me out?

Too bad. I was the director who parachuted in to evaluate them.

"I've finished revising the project acceptance report. I removed Chloe's name."

I was on my way to the break room to get some water. Those words froze me in place.

The speaker was Tasha Parker—the same woman who had once cried and begged me to bring her onto the project team.

"Good. She may be the project lead, but what has she actually done these past three months? All she does is sit in meetings and sign papers. We wrote all the real code."

That was Vinny Owen, chiming in. His skills were mediocre at best, but he was obedient—reason enough for me to make an exception and hire him.

"If she takes forty percent of the bonus, I've worked this whole year for nothing. Leadership looks at results. As long as we stick together, someone like her is easy to deal with. We need to find a way to make her leave on her own."

The last voice belonged to Patricia Brown—my number-one assistant on this project.

"No need to find a way. Just confront her."

There was a sharp edge to Tasha's voice. "The project's almost finished. The core data is all in our hands now. She doesn't understand technology. Without us, either the project collapses or she walks. Someone who just coasts along like her won't dare make a scene."

"Exactly! Let's do it that way. I've disliked her for a long time," Vinny added. "Always putting on airs, pretending to be a leader."

The three of them were perfectly aligned. What they seemed to have forgotten was this—

Three months ago, the company was facing layoffs.

It was these three who messaged me late at night, one after another, pouring out their misery. Elderly parents, young children, mortgages and pressure—begging me to pull them up before they sank.

I softened. I applied for extra slots and brought them into this year's top-tier core project.

For three months, I handled coordination, external negotiations, and resource acquisition. I shielded them from client nitpicking time and again, and fixed more of their bug-riddled proposals than I could count.

To help them earn more, I deliberately assigned all the basic execution work to them, while I took on the hardest, most thankless problems myself.

And now?

My coordination had become "doing no real work."

My delegation had turned into "not understanding technology."

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The laughter stopped instantly, like a duck with its throat squeezed shut.

Patricia reacted first. A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face before she quickly replaced it with righteous defiance.

"Chloe, since you've heard everything, there's no point beating around the bush."

She set her coffee down and crossed her arms, looking straight at me.

"We're all adults. We believe in pay based on contribution. On this project, you really didn't put in much effort."

I walked over to the coffee machine and calmly poured myself a cup of water from the dispenser next to it.

"Didn't put in effort?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Tasha cut in. "We wrote the code. We ran the tests. Even the final presentation was done by us. And you? All you did was talk."

"Chloe, be fair," Vinny added, his tone edged with disdain. "We already thanked you for that so-called recommendation. We even treated you to coffee. But that's a separate matter. Tens of thousands in bonuses—there's no way you should take half just because you talked a little, right?"

I took a sip of water and found it almost amusing.

"Then what do you want?"

The three exchanged glances. Patricia pulled a document from her bag and slapped it onto the table.

"This is a voluntary resignation form. Sign it.

"As long as you withdraw from the project team on your own, we won't expose to the whole company how you've been occupying a position without doing real work. We'll leave you some dignity."

"Otherwise," she continued coolly, "once we jointly report you to headquarters for incompetence and delaying progress, you could even face compensation claims. You'll lose both money and your job."

I looked at the printed resignation form, and whatever shred of goodwill I still had evaporated on the spot.

They'd really come prepared.

They'd even printed the resignation letter for me.

"And if I don't sign?" I asked calmly.

"Don't sign?" Tasha let out a cold laugh. "Chloe, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit. The core data is all on our servers now, and we've already changed the passwords. If you don't leave, just wait for tomorrow's acceptance review—you'll be left high and dry.

"When the client blows up and the company investigates, you, as the nominal project lead, will take the fall for everything."

It was a naked threat.

Using the authority I'd given them to turn around and choke me with it.

"Chloe, if you sign it, I won't make things too ugly for you. After all, we were colleagues once." Tasha suddenly switched to a tone of feigned concern. "I've been thinking about your future, too."

She pulled a wrinkled recruitment flyer out of her pocket.

"My aunt manages logistics. They're short a cleaning team leader. It's dirtier and more tiring, sure, but at least it's stable.

"It's right on this floor. If we have empty bottles left over after drinks, we can save them for you to sell. How about that?"

Patricia covered her mouth and laughed. "Tasha, you're really something. You even lined up her next job. But cleaning does suit Chloe—hasn't she been doing all kinds of odd jobs these past few months anyway?"

Vinny chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, Chloe, look how good we are to you. We even paved a way out for you. Shouldn't you be thanking us already?"

I stared at Tasha coldly.

"You want me to clean toilets? This is what you call planning for my future?"

"Don't be picky," Tasha said righteously. "With your current abilities, getting into logistics at all is already more than you deserve. I only pulled strings for you out of old sentiment. Plenty of people would kill for this chance and still wouldn't get it."

I nodded, then poured the water from my cup onto the floor.

"Fine. Since you're all so capable, I'm done with this project."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Behind me came their triumphant cheers.

"I told you she was a paper tiger—one scare and she folded!"

"This is great! Money, money, here we come!"

I stepped out of the break room, took out my phone, and sent a message to headquarters.

"Inspection complete. Prepare to close the net."

When I returned to my desk, my computer had already been locked.

A glaring red "ACCESS DENIED" flashed on the screen.

Petty—more so than I'd even expected.

Tasha sashayed over, looking down at me from above.

"Oh, Chloe, sorry about that. My hand slipped just now, and I deleted your account."

She said she was sorry, but her face was full of barely concealed glee.

"Anyway, you've already signed the resignation. No point keeping this computer. You should pack up early and make room for the new intern."

As she spoke, she kicked one leg of my chair.

Colleagues nearby shot over curious, uneasy looks.

I ignored her and quietly packed up my personal belongings.

Seeing me stay silent, Tasha took it as fear and grew even more brazen.

"Chloe, don't blame us for being ruthless. That's the workplace—survival of the fittest. People like you, who coast by on connections, are bound to be eliminated sooner or later."

"Connections?" I paused and looked up at her. "Whose connections am I relying on?"

"Don't play dumb."

Tasha leaned closer and raised her voice. "Everyone in the company knows how you got in back then. If you didn't have some shady relationship with that former VP who resigned, do you think you'd still be sitting in this position?"

"Exactly," Vinny snickered. "You don't even dress that well—those bags you carry are probably knockoffs, right? Saved all your money to keep a pretty boy on the side?"

That smear was impressively vicious.

Not only did it erase my competence, it conveniently trashed my personal integrity too.

Sure enough, the murmurs around us grew louder.

"So that's how it is… no wonder she never works overtime."

"You never really know people…"

I looked at their faces and found it ridiculous.

Back when they needed my help, it was all "Chloe is beautiful and kind," "We owe everything to Chloe's support."

Now, for a bit of bonus money, they'd turned into rabid dogs in the blink of an eye.

"Are you done?" I asked.

I slipped the red folder into my bag and stood up.

"If you're done, move aside. Good dogs don't block the road."

"Who are you calling a dog?" Vinny snapped, his face twisted with humiliation and rage as he shoved me hard.

I couldn't dodge in time. I stumbled, my lower back slamming into the edge of a desk. Pain shot through me, so sharp I couldn't straighten up.

"Damn bitch! Don't push your luck! You think you can just leave? Not anymore.

"Pay up for the equipment you damaged earlier. That testing machine we used for last week's demo—the screen's scratched. You must've done it."

Vinny pointed at a dust-covered old computer in the corner. "Depreciation plus repair costs. Five thousand."

That computer was scrap—salvaged from the junk storeroom. I'd been using it to prop up a monitor.

"That machine was already decommissioned. It came from the scrap room."

"Cut the crap!" Tasha chimed in. "It was at your workstation, so you're responsible. Either you pay up, or we call the police right now and report you for damaging company property. If you don't pay, you can forget about passing any background check when you job hunt in the future."

These were the colleagues I'd once treated with my whole heart.

For five thousand, they'd thrown away every shred of dignity.

"I don't have a cent. Call the police if you want."

I hugged the cardboard box to my chest and headed for the door.

Tasha shot Vinny a look. He suddenly lunged forward and knocked the box out of my arms.

Documents, my water bottle, and a small figurine scattered across the floor.

And there—my external hard drive.

"What's this?" Vinny shouted. "Well, well, Chloe. So you dared to secretly copy company confidential data!"

Tasha pointed at the hard drive on the floor. "A commercial spy like you is a disgrace to the entire industry! We even treated you like a sister. Who knew you were this dishonest?"

The onlookers began to whisper and point.

"Wow, you'd never guess—she looks so proper, but she steals."

"I heard she was already shady back in her old department."

"So she doesn't just steal men, she steals company secrets too!"

"How did someone like her get in here?"

Seeing the crowd turn, the three of them grew even bolder.

"What's going on here?" A potbellied middle-aged man walked over.

"Mr. Jackman!" Tasha hurried up to the manager in a sugary voice and retold the story, embellishing every detail.

"How dare you commit crimes right under my nose? Chloe, you really have a death wish!"

Patricia leaned in, malice dripping from her tone. "Mr. Jackman, even if we've recovered the hard drive, what if she already transmitted the data? For safety's sake, shouldn't we destroy it?"

Mr. Jackman nodded. "Good point. We can't risk any leaks."

As he spoke, Tasha lifted my hard drive and smashed it hard against the floor.

The casing shattered, pieces flying everywhere.

My heart sank straight to the bottom. Inside were critical data I hadn't yet uploaded to the cloud.

These idiots had no idea what they'd just destroyed.

"You'll pay for this," I said, my voice cold as ice.

Mr. Jackman snorted. "Pay? You should be worrying about yourself. Security. Drag her out. Don't let her dirty our premises."

Two security guards stepped forward, roughly reaching for my arms.

I shook them off. "Don't touch me."

Patricia raised her phone and started snapping photos nonstop, chanting as she did.

"Everyone, take a good look—this is what happens to a corporate spy! Anyone who hires her in the future will be inviting disaster! Get out! Leave now, or I'll have security throw you out!"

Tasha, Patricia, and Vinny all flipped me off, exaggerating the shape of their mouths as they silently mouthed, Go—get—lost.

I smiled.

If they wanted to push things this far, then they had no one to blame when I showed no mercy.

"Fine. I'm leaving."

I picked up my bag and walked out without looking back.

I just hoped that this time tomorrow, they'd still be smiling so brightly.