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After Stealing My Ungrateful Protégé's Lines, I Went Ballistic
NovelShort
Completed
At the company annual party, the boss suddenly announced he was canceling everyone's year-end bonus. His reason: the market was bad this year, and everyone had to pull through the hard times together. In my last life, as the top sales earner, I led the charge against this empty-promise nonsense. I brought the company ten million dollars in sales in a single year. Why should even the bonus I'd earned get cut?
Chapters (4)
第1章
At the company's annual party, the boss suddenly announced he was canceling everyone's year-end bonus.
His reason: the economy was rough this year, and we all had to pull through the hard times together.
In my last life, as the sales champion, I was the one who led the charge against that empty-promise nonsense.
I brought the company ten million in business a year. On what grounds should even the bonus I'd earned be cut?
Only to be stabbed in the back by the apprentice who usually trailed along behind me, picking up my scraps.
"We come to work to grow our own value and grow with the company. Surely nobody here is only staring at that little bit of money?"
He secretly recorded me making my case and sent it to the boss.
The very next day I was branded with leaking trade secrets and destroying team unity.
I tried to take it to the labor board, only for the company's legal counsel to turn it around on me, and I ended up saddled with a million-dollar breach-of-contract penalty.
My savings were frozen. My house was auctioned off by the court.
With nowhere left to turn, I jumped from the roof of the company building.
Now I was living again, back at the exact annual party where the boss announced the bonuses were gone.
Facing that hypocrite's face.
I took a deep breath and nodded.
"Sure.
...
The moment the words left my mouth, the whole room went dead silent.
Everyone stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
Especially my dear apprentice, Max Fox. His mouth hung half-open, the words he'd been about to say frozen there, his eyes full of disbelief.
In my last life, this was the exact line he used to nail me to the pillar of shame as a greedy traitor.
And he, climbing over my corpse, became the boss's favorite: high-minded, full of promise.
This time I'd stolen his line right out from under him.
Even the boss, Finn Lambert, went blank for a second, that face of his puffy and greasy from years of drinking.
He'd clearly prepped an entire speech to handle the pushback from us ungrateful employees.
He might even have been ready to make an example of me, the sales champion, to scare the rest into line.
My sudden defection threw his whole plan into chaos.
A few seconds later, Finn was the first to recover, the muscles of his face folding into a fake smile that bunched up like a chrysanthemum.
"Well, well! Look at that! Look at that!"
He slapped his thigh, his voice booming over the entire room.
"That's our Director Pruitt for you! Emily Pruitt really gets it!"
"You want to know what a company pillar looks like? This is what a company pillar looks like!"
He raised his glass, lifting it toward me across the room.
"Everyone should learn from Director Pruitt! Only when the company does well can any of us do well!"
"Come on, let's all raise a glass to our clear-sighted Director Pruitt!"
I looked at Finn's greasy face, cold contempt curdling inside me.
Finn Lambert, our boss. Everyone called him Lambert the Skinflint.
The company's numbers this year had doubled from last year, and eighty percent of that came from Sales Department One, my team, who'd worked ourselves to the bone.
I alone had signed three deals worth ten million each.
The young ones on my team had lived on takeout for half a year and pulled all-nighters for three months straight, all banking on that year-end bonus so they could go home for a good holiday.
And now, with one line about a rough economy, he wanted to wipe out everything we'd earned?
I picked up the orange juice in front of me, lifted it toward him across the room, and drained it in one go.
Max snapped out of it, and as if terrified of falling a step behind, he hurried to raise his glass, chiming in loudly in a tone that came close to groveling.
"Right, right, right! My mentor is absolutely right! And Mr. Lambert is even more right!"
His face was flushed, though whether from excitement or from holding it all in, who could say.
"Under Mr. Lambert's brilliant leadership, the precious experience and life lessons we've gained can't be measured by any amount of money! That is the truly priceless wealth!"
Watching him practically try to carve the word loyal into his own forehead, I felt my stomach churn.
In my last life, this harmless-looking act was exactly what fooled me.
I taught him hands-on how to handle clients and work the field. I even handed him the easiest clients I had, the ones most likely to close, just to help him grow fast.
And what did I get?
This was how he repaid me.
Around me, my coworkers wore all kinds of expressions.
Some looked relieved, figuring that since even the sales champion had spoken up first, they didn't have to stick their necks out.
Some looked plainly disgusted, clearly thinking I'd thrown away my dignity just to flatter the boss.
And a few who were close to me had nothing but worry and confusion in their eyes.
I ignored all of it.
This farce was due for a new lead.
第2章
The annual party had turned into a gratitude rally.
Finn, loose with drink, worked the room table by table, spraying spit as he painted castles in the air.
I made an excuse and slipped back to my office early.
Less than ten minutes later, Max's footsteps came down the hall, that familiar tread getting closer.
"Boss," he said, pushing my office door open and poking his head in, a look of warm concern on his face. "You really opened my eyes today."
He stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him.
"I honestly thought you'd be the first one to speak up against it."
I didn't look up, just kept sorting the papers on my desk.
"What good would that do? Besides offending the boss, what would it get me?"
"That's true, but..." Max ambled over to my desk, angling his body to one side as if it meant nothing.
As he talked, he casually slid one hand into his pocket.
"Weren't you saying that this year-end bonus was going toward the down payment on your new place?"
"You even took me along last month when you went to look at it."
He leaned on the words "year-end bonus" and "down payment," pronouncing each one a little too clearly.
At the same time, out of the corner of my eye, I caught his hand in that pocket, thumb working restlessly against the volume button on the side of his phone.
Ah. The record button.
Same recipe, same flavor.
In my last life, this was exactly how he'd done it, cutting and splicing my words together.
Turning me into a villain who cared only about money and didn't give a damn whether the company lived or died.
I laughed to myself, but on my face I let a perfectly measured trace of loss and resignation surface.
"The down payment?"
I let out a long sigh, quiet, but plenty loud enough for the phone in his pocket to pick up clean.
"How could a down payment matter more than the company's future?"
I raised my head and looked straight at him, my eyes lit with the glow of someone who'd seen the light.
"Max, you're still young, you don't understand. Mr. Lambert carries a company this size on his own shoulders. Do you know how hard that is, how much it costs him?"
"As his employees, we can't just think about taking from the company. We have to think about giving back to it."
"This year-end bonus, forget the company struggling and not paying it out. Even if they did pay it, I'd hand it right back!"
"Weathering hard times together with the company, that's the kind of responsibility an employee should have!"
I made sure to pitch it high and stirring, all noble sacrifice.
The smile froze on Max's face.
He'd probably been hoping to record me griping about not having the money for a down payment, and instead he'd captured a model-employee commendation speech.
His eyes darted around. He was clearly scrambling for a new angle.
"Boss... you, you're serious?"
"Of course I'm serious!" I slapped the desk and stood, looking down at him, my tone leaving no room for doubt.
"And that's not all! I'm going to back it up with real action!"
"To help the company cut costs and get through this rough patch, I've decided..."
I paused on purpose, and was pleased to see the light of curiosity and greed kindle in his eyes.
"...to hand every one of my most important major clients over to you!"
"You've always told me you wanted to run big projects on your own, to really test yourself, to raise your own value, haven't you?"
"Well, now's your chance!"
For one instant, Max's eyes lit up bright as a pair of hundred-watt bulbs.
It was greed, naked and unhidden.
Everyone knew that those major clients of mine, Mr. Chavez, Mr. Finch, and Janet Lawrence, were the company's absolute lifeline.
It had taken me three whole years to pry them loose from the competition and lock them down tight.
The orders those clients placed every year accounted for a third of the company's annual profit.
But they were also the hardest patrons alive to please.
Brutal demands, an insane eye for detail, one misplaced punctuation mark could sink an entire deal.
In my last life, Max had hinted more than once, sometimes openly, that he wanted a piece of these core accounts, that I was treating him like an outsider, keeping things from him.
Now I was serving that scalding slab of prime meat right up to his mouth.
How could he possibly refuse?
"Are... are you serious, boss?"
His voice actually trembled, worked up beyond anything.
"You'd really hand Mr. Chavez and the others over to me?"
"Of course." I gave him a faint smile, kind as a saint. "You're my apprentice. If I don't develop you, who am I going to develop? Do good work. Don't let me down."
"Thank you, boss! Thank you! I will! I swear I won't let you or Mr. Lambert down!"
He tripped over his own thanks, as if terrified I'd change my mind in the next breath.
Then he spun around and bolted for the door, no doubt itching to go report the win to Finn.
I watched him practically flee, and the curve at the corner of my mouth grew colder.
Go on.
Take this big gift I'm handing you, and hold on to it.
You'd better be able to hold on to it.
第3章
The next morning, right on time, I walked into Finn Lambert's office.
In my hand was a neatly printed Client Handover Request.
Finn pushed his reading glasses up his nose and squinted through the whole thing, and every emotion under the sun crossed his face.
Surprise. Suspicion. But mostly a barely contained glee, the wheels already turning.
"Director Pruitt, you... what exactly do you mean by this?" He shoved his glasses up, feigning calm.
"Mr. Chavez, Mr. Finch, those clients are the lifeblood of this company! Handing them to Max, a rookie... can he really pull that off?"
I smiled and pulled out the chair across from him and sat.
"Mr. Lambert, Max may be young, but he's got drive, he's got hunger, and more than that, his heart's in the right place."
I let those last words land with a little extra weight.
"After the party last night, he came and sought me out. Said he wanted to take some pressure off the company, that he was asking to shoulder more responsibility. It really moved me."
"Besides, I can't stay in the director's chair forever, can I?"
"Someone has to bring up the next generation."
"Give the young ones more chances, and you're pumping fresh energy into the company."
Finn rubbed his smooth chin, his eyes darting back and forth.
I could read the little calculation running behind them with my eyes shut.
Me, sales director, on the company's highest commission rate at ten percent.
Max, an ordinary salesperson, on a rate of just three percent.
Same clients, same numbers, but the cost to the company depended entirely on whose name sat on the account.
If those big accounts stayed with me, the commission alone would be a sum big enough to give him palpitations.
Now here I was, all noble sacrifice, stepping aside for the up-and-comer.
Saving him a fortune, and handing him a favor on top of it.
Making that decision of his to scrap the year-end bonuses look positively brilliant.
What reason did he have to say no?
"Mm... Director Pruitt, you make a fair point."
Finn mulled it over for a moment, then finally showed his hand.
"Since you're recommending him so strongly, and you're willing to mentor him yourself, then... let him give it a shot."
"But," he said, pivoting, "handover is handover. You still carry overall responsibility. If something goes wrong, I'm still coming to you."
Nice try.
I kept smiling. "Not to worry, Mr. Lambert. I'll make the handover list crystal clear and have Max sign off on it."
"Once the handover's complete, those become projects he's independently responsible for."
"He's young. How's he supposed to grow without a few knocks? We can't be shielding him forever, right?"
I sealed off every road back.
Finn choked on that, but in the end, faced with such a fat incentive, he nodded.
"Fine! We'll do it your way!"
The handover went smoothly. Max guarded against me like I was a thief, terrified I'd change my mind.
He didn't just take every scrap of client data, he went ahead and kicked me out of the client group chats himself.
My other coworkers started looking at me differently, sure I'd lost my mind, or that the boss had something on me.
I didn't care in the slightest.
I settled into the easy life that came after losing my "power."
Clocking in and out on the dot every day, not a single minute of overtime.
During work hours, while everyone else was frantic on the phones and hammering out proposals, I was leisurely bingeing shows, sipping herbal tea, and browsing shopping sites.
Max, meanwhile, sank straight into a living hell.
To please those big clients he treated like treasure, he took bootlicking to an art form.
Mr. Chavez said he wanted barbecue from the West Side one evening, and Max drove across the whole city to fetch it without a word of complaint.
Mr. Finch's daughter was in a piano competition, so Max ran around drumming up votes, more invested than if she'd been his own kid.
Janet's dog went missing, and he mobilized his whole family, young and old, searching all night through pouring rain.
He was run ragged, never off his feet, drinking and schmoozing until the small hours every night, the circles under his eyes darker than the bags.
You could watch him wither by the day.
But he loved it. Every time we crossed paths in the hallway, he straightened his back.
Playing the victor, he'd toss out a light little line:
"Boss lady, taking it easy again today?"
I just smiled and said nothing.
The calm before the storm is always especially short.
A week later.
I counted the days and figured it was about time.
第4章
Finn called me into his office, his face dark as a storm.
"Ms. Pruitt, what's going on with Mr. Chavez? Can Max actually handle this or not?"
I played innocent, even letting a flicker of surprise cross my face, just enough.
"Mr. Chavez? What about him? Is he adding to his year-end order?"
"Adding my ass!" Finn's voice cracked with rage.
"He called to complain! Said that new kid, Max, is treating this like a joke!"
"Can't even keep his own client's basic product specs straight."
"The quote he sent over—price, model number, delivery date, all wrong!"
"Mr. Chavez said if it weren't for the years he's worked with you, he'd be switching suppliers right now!"
Inside I was grinning ear to ear, but my face wore the pained, heartsick look of someone who couldn't believe it.
"Mr. Lambert, please, calm down. Max, he... he's really been trying. Truly."
I sighed, my tone all protectiveness for the younger generation.
"He probably just took over and doesn't know the account well yet. Too eager to prove himself, made a few mistakes in the rush."
"He's young. Everyone pays their dues learning the ropes. We should give him a little more time and patience."
"Pays his dues?" Finn laughed, furious.
"Mr. Chavez's account runs over ten million a year! Who's going to cover those dues? You? Me?"
Right then the office door flew open.
Max stumbled in, reeking of liquor, his tie hanging crooked around his neck, hair a mess, his face white as paper.
The second he saw me, his eyes turned into knives dipped in poison.
But he had no time for me now.
He lunged at Finn's desk, his voice shaking like a leaf.
"Mr. Lambert... boss..."
"Mr.—Mr. Chavez's side. Something's gone very wrong."
I folded my arms at my leisure, leaning against the wall by the door, a cold curve tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Max's lips were bloodless. He stammered it out.
"Mr. Chavez said... said that last batch of samples we rushed over to him, they don't pass inspection at all!"
"He had a third-party lab test them, says we cut corners, passed off cheap junk as the real thing!"
"Now... now he's not just canceling every order this year, he's coming after us for triple damages under the contract!"
Crack.
Finn shot up out of his chair, the force sending it rolling back until it hit the wall with a dull thud.
His eyes were bloodshot, like a raging bull's, and he jabbed a finger at Max's nose and roared:
"Doesn't pass? How could it not pass?"
"We used the best materials we've got. You inspected everything yourself before it left the plant, didn't you?"
The shout drove Max back a full step, nearly buckling his knees.
"I... I..." he mumbled, eyes darting away.
"To... to make Mr. Chavez's deadline, and thinking I could... save the company a little money..."
"I... I found a contract factory that was cheaper..."
"You idiot!"
Finn lost it completely, snatched the heavy contract binder off his desk and hurled it at Max with everything he had.
The binder grazed past Max's ear and slammed into the wall behind him, papers scattering across the floor.
"Who the hell told you to swap in your own factory?!"
"Do you have any idea how strict Mr. Chavez is about quality? You treated everything I said like noise?"
I stood off to the side, watching this dogfight play out, so close to laughing out loud.
That so-called cheap contract factory—I'd heard of it long ago.
An industry-famous scrap heap, specializing in knockoffs made from garbage materials.
Their prices were criminally low, and so was their quality.
In my last life, Max had once pitched me this very factory, wanting to switch to it to cut costs and boost margins.
I'd shot it down hard on the spot, and chewed him out over it besides.
Who would have thought.
Now with no one holding him back, hungry for a win, desperate to show he could save the company money—
he'd walked straight into the pit I'd dug for him, no hesitation at all.
"Mr. Lambert, now isn't the time to be losing your temper."
I finally spoke, unhurried, breaking the suffocating air in the office.
"The urgent thing is to find a way to fix this, fast."
My voice wasn't loud, but Finn grabbed onto it like a drowning man grabbing a rope.
His head snapped toward me, and he looked at me with something close to pleading.
"Emily! Yes! Emily!"
"You've always run this client! You've got the best relationship with Mr. Chavez!"
"Hurry, go explain things to him, put in a good word for the company, see if he'll give us some room?"
I sighed, spreading my hands like it was out of my control.
"Mr. Lambert, first—a few days ago when I handed the client over to Max, you nodded it through."
"To help him work independently, he already kicked me out of every client group chat."
"Mr. Chavez probably won't even pick up my call now."
"Second," I paused, looking at Max, whose face had already gone the gray of ash.
"The breach penalty... is no small number."
"How—how much?" Finn's voice was trembling.
I held up three fingers and said flatly:
"Per the contract, Mr. Chavez's account totals ten million. Triple penalty, that's three million."
"And that's just Mr. Chavez alone."
"If word of this gets out, Mr. Finch and Janet on their end..."
I didn't finish, but the meaning was clear enough.
Thump.
Finn's legs gave out and he dropped straight to the floor, sitting there a long while without getting up.
Three million!
For a company our size, that was absolutely the last straw that would break the camel's back!
"No! This isn't my fault!"
Max suddenly shrieked like he'd gone mad, pointing at me, his face twisted.
"Mr. Lambert! You can't pin this all on me! It's her! Emily set me up!"
"When she handed over the account, she left out on purpose that Mr. Chavez had a required contract factory! She just wanted to watch me fall flat!"
"And! And that factory—I heard she used to scout it out herself!"
"She planted the trail on purpose, to bait me into it!"
I looked at him coldly, like watching a clown thrashing around.
"Max, when you talk, do it with a conscience—and with evidence."
"First, on the handover checklist, the requirement to use the designated A-grade supplier is right there in black and white, bolded and marked in red, spelled out plain as day."
"And underneath it, your own signature."
"Want me to have admin bring the original over to jog your memory?"
"Second, you say I contacted that factory? Where's the proof? Call logs? Emails? Text messages?"
"Produce one—just one—and I, Emily Pruitt, will take full responsibility on the spot and clear out of this company."