The next morning, in the company's largest conference room, the project acceptance meeting began right on schedule.

Although I'd been "forced out," I was still the project's nominal lead, and my name remained on the client's invitation list.

So I deliberately changed into professional attire and arrived at the company entrance on time.

The moment I reached the front desk, I was stopped.

"Well, if it isn't Chloe the Great Idler."

Patricia, dressed in a brand-new red suit and flawless makeup, was directing Vinny as he moved materials around. When she saw me, she cried out theatrically.

"Why are you here? Got fired and still won't give up—came back to steal things?"

The young woman at the front desk looked torn. "Chloe, Mr. Jackman instructed us that your access card has been deactivated. You can't go in…"

"Did you hear that? You're not allowed in!"

Patricia folded her arms and strode over, chin lifted. "Today's a big day—headquarters' top boss is personally here for the acceptance. We can't afford someone with a stain on her record like you going inside. If you offend an important guest, we won't be able to take responsibility."

"Headquarters' top boss?"

"Scared now?" Tasha walked over as well, a thick stack of documents in her hands. "I hear HQ is taking this very seriously. The president himself is leading the team. We're about to show our faces in front of him. Once the acceptance goes through, promotions and raises are a done deal."

"As for you…" She looked me up and down and snorted. "You're only fit to carry trays at that coffee shop across the street."

"Why waste time talking to her?" Vinny urged impatiently. "Hurry up and chase her off. We don't need her bad vibes here."

Patricia's eyes flicked, and she suddenly smiled.

"Don't rush. Since she's here, why not let her go in? Let her watch with her own eyes as we collect the bonuses and receive commendations. That kind of contrast—doesn't it feel even better?"

Tasha immediately caught on. "You really think things through, Patricia. That's a kill without spilling blood."

Patricia turned to the front desk. "Let her in. Just say she's someone we invited… a cleaner. The conference room could use someone to pour tea anyway."

The receptionist didn't dare defy them and silently opened the door for me.

I said nothing and walked straight in.

The conference room was already full.

In addition to the client representatives, senior management was present. Mr. Jackman was at the front, fussing over the equipment like a lapdog.

When he saw me enter, his expression changed, and it looked like he was about to explode—until Patricia hurried over and whispered a few words in his ear.

After listening, Mr. Jackman broke into a malicious smile.

"Since you're willing to contribute what little value you have left, go stand over there. When the president arrives, be sharp about it. Don't let the tea run dry."

He pointed to a spot by the water dispenser in the corner.

There was a pile of disposable paper cups and a trash can beside it.

Everyone in the room looked at me, their eyes filled with mockery and disdain.

I walked to the corner, but instead of grabbing the cups, I pulled out a chair and sat down openly.

"Who told you to sit there?" Patricia shrieked. "That seat is reserved for leadership! Do you think you're worthy?"

"Get up! Go pour water!" Vinny rushed over, reaching out to grab me.

At that moment, the conference room doors were pushed open.

A large group of people filed in with great momentum.

At the front was a man with an overwhelming presence—the CEO of the group headquarters, Roger Beckett.

The room fell silent instantly. Everyone sprang to their feet, faces plastered with ingratiating smiles.

Mr. Jackman practically jogged over, bowing and scraping. "Mr. Beckett, you're here! Please, this way—your seat is ready!"

Patricia and the other two hurriedly adjusted their clothes, straightened their backs, and struck the pose of elite core staff, their eyes burning as they stared at Roger, as if he were a walking ATM.

Roger didn't spare them a glance. He strode straight toward the main seat.

As he passed by me, his steps paused—just slightly.

Patricia, sharp-eyed as ever, immediately jumped out and pointed at me, shouting,

"Chloe! Are you blind? Mr. Beckett is here, and you're not even standing up! You actually dare sit there so boldly—no manners at all!"

Her shout successfully drew Roger's attention.

Mr. Jackman snapped back to his senses, cold sweat instantly breaking out. He pointed at me and yelled, "Security! Where the hell are you? How did you let this kind of trash in here? Drag her out, now!"

Turning to Roger, he forced a smile. "Mr. Beckett, my sincerest apologies. She's a former employee our department fired—sticky fingers and not quite right in the head. She's been refusing to leave. I'll have someone remove her immediately so she doesn't offend your eyes."

Patricia seized the moment to add fuel to the fire. "That's right, Mr. Beckett. Her name is Chloe. Back when she was on the project team, she did nothing at all, stole our core data, and her private life is extremely messy. We pitied her and didn't call the police—but who knew she'd be this shameless?"

"Stole data? Private life… chaotic?"

Roger stopped walking and repeated the words calmly.

His tone revealed nothing.

Patricia took it as confirmation and went all in. "Exactly! We have evidence! She didn't just steal—she even tried to seduce Mr. Jackman. After being rejected, she held a grudge and tried to sabotage today's acceptance meeting!"

"People like her are a cancer in the company! She must be punished severely!" Tasha shouted righteously.

The three of them closed in around me, as if I were some unforgivable criminal.

Eager to perform in front of leadership, Vinny reached out to grab my arm. "What are you still sitting for? Get out!"

The moment his hand touched my sleeve, I flung it away.

I stood up and calmly adjusted my collar.

"This," I said coolly, "is what you call evidence?"

I looked at them, my gaze icy.

"Utter nonsense!" Mr. Jackman roared. "You dare assault our staff right in front of Mr. Beckett? You've got some nerve! Someone—call the police! We need to get her arrested!"

The room descended into chaos.

Patricia looked at me smugly, mouthing the words: You're finished.

Just as security rushed in to restrain me, Roger—who had remained silent the entire time—finally spoke.

"Enough."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried unquestionable authority.

Everyone froze.

Mr. Jackman stood there dumbfounded. "Mr. Beckett…"

Roger didn't even glance his way. He walked straight up to me.

Then, right in front of everyone’s stunned faces, he gave a slight, formal bow and held out both hands.

"Director Simpson," he said, his tone deeply respectful, "on behalf of the board, please accept our sincerest apologies for the ordeal you have endured these past few days."