My fingers dug into the plastic handles of the grocery bag until my knuckles turned white.

When I wanted a raise, we were "family" and I needed to be understanding.

Now that I was defending myself, it was a "professional relationship" and I had to respect my leader.

I dropped the meat on her desk, my voice deadly calm. "Joanna, I'm getting back to work. Remember to transfer me the money for the meat."

I sat down and woke my computer. A notification popped up immediately—a trending post: *Don't let small companies steal your passion.*

The top comment read: *[The boss's way of rewarding your ability to endure hardship is to give you more work, not more money.]*

I froze for two seconds, reflecting on my last two years.

The first year, the accounts showed results. One viral video brought the company 100,000 in revenue. Blake's reward? Assigning me five new accounts.

The second year, all six accounts broke 500,000 followers. The company's quarterly revenue topped a million. With no change in my workload, Blake assigned me even more content.

I had asked for a raise twice. Both times, Blake said young people shouldn't be too calculating. He told me to look at the long-term returns—stock options and a partnership once we went public.

Every application for a salary increase was rejected.

I opened a recruiting app and uploaded my resume.

In less than ten minutes, my inbox was flooded.

**Isabella Lambert:** *[Ms. Floyd, your experience and skills are a perfect match for our Operations position. Probation salary is 8K, full benefits, and housing allowance. Do you have time to chat?]*

Before I could reply, Blake Rowe called me into his office.

He sat in his leather boss chair, sipping tea. "I heard what Joanna said earlier. Ms. Floyd, don't argue with her. I recognize your professional ability. The accounts you manage have generated significant revenue. You alone are worth several employees." He paused for dramatic effect. "After we hire more staff next year, we'll move you into management."

I adjusted my coat and looked at him in silence.

He said the same thing last year.

He said the same thing the year before that.

But the recruitment notice was never posted.

Why? Because I did everything. Blake held meetings and made decisions. Joanna handled the money—tightly—and only hired a part-time accountant for the books. Copywriting, editing, operations, client relations—that was all me.

I was worth several people, so there was no need for him to waste money hiring anyone else.

I stared him down. "Since I'm worth several people, why do I only get 4,500?"

Blake blinked.

"Mr. Rowe, I manage six accounts in different verticals. I pitch content for six different directions every day. I get two days off a month. Even when I'm home, I'm replying to clients. I brought in million-dollar revenue, yet my year-end bonus was 1,000 dollars and three boxes of fruit." My voice remained steady. "I can wait for you to hire people next year, but management can't survive on four thousand five, can they?"

Blake's face darkened instantly at the mention of money.

"The company is struggling right now. Rent, utilities—these are all costs. Even with revenue, the net profit isn't high." He sighed, pivoting to lecture me on the job market. "Companies out there are all bait-and-switch operations—just sales jobs in disguise. What can you actually learn in a place like that?"

He stood up and walked around the desk to pat my shoulder, his tone dripping with earnest manipulation.

"Ms. Floyd, I'm grooming you like my own little sister. I take you on business trips to learn on the company's dime. Haven't I brought you to every team-building event? When we go public, you get stock options. When we hire, you get management. Why are you calculating over petty short-term profits? Don't worry—follow me, and I won't treat you badly."

My nails dug into my palms.

It was always the same script.

"I understand," I said flatly.

He waved a hand, dismissing me. "Polish that copy a bit more. And work overtime tonight to finish the documents for my business trip tomorrow."

I turned on my heel and walked out.

The moment I was back at my desk, I sent Isabella Lambert my contact information.

*[Here is my number. If you have time, we can talk in detail.]*

Two years ago, fresh out of college, I knew about Isabella's company. It was a significant player locally. But back then, I believed a startup would offer me more comprehensive development.

Back then, Blake and Joanna were friendlier. The colleagues were harmonious. We really did feel like a family. I watched the company grow, pouring my sweat into every brick and beam of this place.

But now I finally understood.

The bricks and beams of a company never belong to the employees.

At 9:30 p.m., I shut down my computer and emailed the content pitch to the boss. I also exported the raw footage I had shot during work. Aside from my daily tasks, I had my own account recording daily life. Usually, I was too busy to edit, but today was different.

For two years, I had completed every task above and beyond standard.

I didn't owe this company a thing.

Saturday was my day off. Yesterday, I had chatted with Isabella Lambert, and we scheduled an interview for Monday.

With my mind made up, I finally allowed myself to sleep in. But before I could even eat breakfast, Joanna messaged me, ordering me to come to the office to monitor the data.

*[Joanna, today is my day off,]* I reminded her.

Her call came through immediately.

"Rose Floyd, why has your attitude been so terrible lately?" she demanded. "If I had time, I'd watch it myself! Haohhao is sick, and Blake is on a business trip. You're his elder, for god's sake. What is wrong with coming over to check the data? You're one of us. Why are you making such a fuss over a simple favor?"

Speechless.

"Joanna, your family matters have nothing to do with me. I get one day off a week. I have no obligation to come in today."

I hung up.

She called again.

And again.

When she realized I was serious, she sent a barrage of texts.

*[Rose Floyd, I am so disappointed in you.]*

*[You watched Haohhao grow up. I didn't expect you to be so cold-hearted when he's sick!]*

*[Blake was even talking about signing a share-gifting agreement for you and raising your bonus. You're freezing us out.]*

I didn't reply to a single one.

Then I saw her post on social media. A public condemnation.

*[These days, sincerity is never returned. My son is sick. I asked Ms. Floyd to come check the data, and she ignored me. I gave her a job, paid for her travel to learn, and gave her a raise. My son even calls her "Auntie," but in the end, she has no heart.]*

She attached screenshots of our chat.

Below the post, a mob of commenters cursed me for having no conscience.

*[Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. Once her wings hardened, she stopped caring about the people who helped her.]*

*[What an ingrate. Watch out, OP—after she resigns, she'll probably try to expose your company and bite back.]*

A headache bloomed behind my temples. Their family drama had nothing to do with me. The last time Joanna claimed Haohhao was sick and demanded I cover for her, she had actually gone out partying. Not to mention, I brought them millions in revenue, yet I was still forced to pick up their kid, run errands, and buy their groceries.

Why didn't she put *that* in her post?

I took screenshots of the entire chat history.

Including the parts she left out.

The next day at work, Joanna glared at me the moment I walked in. Her eyebrows shot up, her expression harsh.

"Yesterday, Haohhao had a fever of thirty-nine degrees. Blake was away. I told you to come watch the data, and you still refused. Rose Floyd, do you still listen to company orders or not?"

My voice dropped an octave, firm and cold.

"Joanna, I am a company employee, not your family's nanny."

"Your son's illness is not my responsibility. My responsibility is to do my job."

Her chest heaved with indignation. Her lip curled in contempt.

"Good! Just great!"

Joanna Swanson glared at me, her face twisted in a sneer. "Rose Floyd, you really think you've grown wings, don't you? The netizens were right—you were just biding your time, stealing our skills until you felt tough enough to fly the coop! Mr. Rowe is kind-hearted enough to give you a chance, but I don't give a damn!"

She shoved me hard.

I stumbled back a few steps before regaining my balance. Calmly, I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and held her gaze without blinking.

"Joanna, are you sure you want to fire me? Does Mr. Rowe know about this?"

"The six accounts currently under my management—"

A cold, derisive laugh cut me off. "I can swap anyone into that seat and the accounts will run just fine! Don't think you're irreplaceable."

She stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. "And don't give me that 'I'm operations' nonsense. So what? I can recruit a random operations assistant online for pennies. Do you honestly think it has to be you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "And don't even think about running to Blake Rowe to save your job. He's on a business trip and won't be back until tomorrow."

She looked me up and down with undisguised contempt. "Or... you can apologize right now. Admit you were wrong, beg for forgiveness, and I might consider letting you stay."

That arrogant posture. That tilt of her chin.

A hollow numbness spread through my chest. Whatever loyalty I had left evaporated like morning dew.

"Fine," I said evenly. "Have the company issue my termination notice."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Joanna's face. She frowned, but her sharp tongue didn't falter. "Playing hard to get? You think I won't do it?"

She marched to the printer, grabbed a termination form, stamped it with the official company seal, and slapped it onto my chest.

"Pack your trash and get out! I want to see what kind of job you can possibly find with that attitude!"

I walked to my desk in silence.

Two years. I had spent two years of my life here, yet everything I owned fit into a single medium-sized box.

The elevator doors slid shut behind me. A wave of melancholy washed over me as I stepped out of the building. My initial ambitions when I joined this company had ended in an unceremonious firing.

My phone buzzed. Blake Rowe had rejected my resignation request in the system.

He called.

I let it ring.

Moments later, a text popped up:

*【Rose, don't mind Joanna. She's just blowing off steam. You've watched this company grow from the ground up—I wouldn't feel comfortable handing those accounts to anyone else.】*

*【I'll be back tomorrow. Take these two days as a paid vacation. We'll talk when I return.】*

I stared at the screen and let out a dry laugh.

Their favorite routine. Good Cop, Bad Cop. A psychological game designed to break me down and build me back up in their image.

Joanna would strip away my self-worth, calling me useless, and then Blake would swoop in with crumbs of validation. A classic manipulation tactic to make me believe that they were the only two people on earth willing to employ me.

I didn't reply.

The next day, I sat across from Isabella Lambert.

"I specialize in operations," I said, introducing myself. "At my previous company, I managed all six major accounts—"

A knowing smile stopped me mid-sentence. "I know. Your accounts are case studies in our training program. The moment I saw your name on the resume, I knew exactly who you were."

Her eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Within two months of taking over, you made a single video generate a hundred thousand dollars in revenue."

She leaned forward. "Our base pay for operations is $8,000 during probation, rising to $10,000 once you're permanent. We strictly observe all holidays. Performance reviews happen every two months, so there's significant room for advancement."

A pause. "Are you interested? I can send the offer letter right now."

I nodded, my voice steady but sincere. "Of course. It would be an honor to work with you."

"However," I added, "I still need to finalize things with my previous employer. Although I have the stamped termination paper, the CEO rejected my resignation application in the system..."

Isabella smiled. "Not a problem. Let's leave the start date open for a moment. I'll send the offer invitation immediately so your old company can't guilt-trip you into staying."

Walking out of her office, the heavy stone that had been crushing my chest for two years suddenly vanished.

When I had previously mentioned resigning to Blake, he had looked at me with disappointed eyes and said...

"I hired you because I saw potential in you. I thought you were willing to endure hardship to achieve greatness. Do you think the outside world will give you the time to find your potential?"

That was what Blake had said.

Even though I had already built a successful account by then, his words had worked. I stayed.

I became cheap labor.

I became their office nanny.

The next morning, I walked into Blake Rowe's office and placed a photocopy of the termination notice on his desk.

"Mr. Rowe, this is a copy of my termination. Joanna didn't have time to print a formal copy for you yesterday, so I brought it myself."

Blake didn't even glance at it. He snatched the paper and tore it into shreds, his expression indifferent.

"Rose, didn't I tell you? Joanna wasn't being serious. The company has always viewed you as a talent to be cultivated. Why would we ever fire you?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out another photocopy. My voice remained calm.

"Mr. Rowe, I am serious. If you tear this one up, I have ten more."

Blake's face darkened. Beside him, Joanna rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with provocation.

"Rose Floyd, drop the act."

She scoffed. "Blake gave you a paid day off yesterday—is that not enough? Or are you trying to claim you found a new job in less than twenty-four hours? Who are you trying to fool?"

Blake sighed, feigning impatience. "Ms. Floyd, stop making a scene. If it makes you feel better, I'll have Joanna apologize. You've been here two years—can you really bear to walk away?"

I silently pulled out my phone and opened the digital offer letter.

"I really have found a new job. I only came today to clarify things, for the sake of our two years as colleagues."

Blake leaned in to look at the document. As he read the signed offer, his brows knitted so tightly a deep furrow formed between them.

Joanna stared blankly. "That's impossible. It's only been one day!"