After I was passed over for a management position for the fifth time, my mother called, once again nagging me to come home and let her set me up with someone. Normally, I would have shut her down immediately. But this time, I quietly agreed. It was because, after losing the promotion to my arch-nemesis yet again, I’d gone to confront my boss—and boyfriend—determined to get answers. But I accidentally overheard him talking to someone else. “You’ve watched Patty grow in this company. Why do you vote against her promotion every single time?” A cynical laugh from Chad Shaw. “I give her the affection she wants, and I give the owner’s daughter the position she wants. I get to keep both of them, everyone gets something, and I maximize my assets. What’s wrong with that?” The other person sounded impressed. “You’re cold-blooded. You keep her dangling with low-cost affection. Aren’t you afraid she’ll just get fed up and leave?” Chad’s voice was casual, confident. “It’s been a few years in bed, that’s all. It was mutual. If she leaves, it’s no real loss.” He paused. “Besides, last month she’s the one who suggested we stop using protection. I don’t think she’s ready to let go just yet.” He had ripped away the last shred of my dignity with his own hands. Along with the five years of what I had carefully nurtured, what I had foolishly believed was love. I tore the appeal form in my hands to shreds. And bought a ticket for the next train home. A position and a love that seven years of my life couldn’t earn? I was done with them. 1 Amber White snatched the torn pieces of paper from my hand. “An appeal form? You’re going to appeal again?” she sneered, flicking the scraps of paper at my face. “Patty, you need to learn your place. Failing once or twice might be bad luck. But five times? Do you still think it’s just luck?” “You’re out of your league. Appealing a dozen times won’t change that.” I thought of the four previous appeal forms tucked away in my bottom drawer, each one neatly signed by Chad Shaw, each one citing ‘insufficient competence’ as the reason for failure. For the first time, it struck me as funny. Every time, he’d placate me with excuses about fairness and avoiding favoritism. His words were like bitter medicine he forced down my throat, leaving me choked and silent. In seven years, I had landed six multi-million dollar contracts for this company. I was the top performer for thirteen consecutive quarters. I’d ended up in the hospital with two bleeding ulcers from cleaning up my colleagues’ messes. Not a single client I’d worked with had ever called me incompetent. In the past, I would have argued with Amber, defending my abilities to the bitter end. But now, I was just tired. It would only end with us in front of Chad, where he would deliver the same lukewarm verdict. “Past performance is irrelevant. You need to accept that your overall skills just don't measure up.” And then, under the spell of his manipulation, I’d throw myself back into my work, desperate to prove myself, all while fulfilling his goal of getting maximum return on a minimal investment. Only now did I realize that the one who was never treated fairly was me. Chad Shaw, you really know how to play the game. Tears blurred my vision, splashing onto my phone screen. A notification lit it up. [Come to my office.] My dormant heart gave a weak flutter, a foolish spark of hope. But as I reached the door, I heard Amber’s sobbing from inside. “Alright, stop crying. I told you, you deserve this. I’ll handle her.” Chad’s voice, so gentle and patient, was a dull knife twisting in my heart, churning up the rot inside. Six months ago, Amber had spread a rumor that I’d slept with a client to close a deal. The client’s wife had found me and beaten me so badly my face was a swollen mess; I could only eat liquids for two days. I had looked at him then with the same tearful vulnerability, begging him to clear my name. His only response had been, “Don't be so dramatic and naive. This is the corporate world. You know the truth will come out eventually.” Bitterness seeped into the old wounds. I had to admit, even his so-called affection had always been rationed. I numbly pushed the door open. Chad’s hand, which had been wiping Amber’s tears, froze. He glared at me, annoyed. “I hear you’re unhappy with Director White’s promotion. Has anyone ever told you that careers aren’t built on gossip? Is it so hard to admit you’re not good enough?” I stared at him, stunned. “I didn’t…” He cut me off before I could finish. “A one-thousand-word self-criticism. And a public apology at this afternoon’s meeting.” A single unconfirmed rumor, and I was being ordered to write an apology. It made all the vicious, actual rumors he’d heard about me—and ignored—seem like a sick joke. Before, I could have told myself he was just keeping his professional and private lives separate. But now, knowing I was nothing more than his cheapest asset, I lost the will to even argue. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down, a small, humorless smile on my lips. “Yes. You’re right.” “I admit I’m not good enough. I’ll apologize.” 2 I gave a slight bow in Amber’s direction. “Director White, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have questioned your abilities or entertained the foolish notion of an appeal.” She didn’t respond. As I started to straighten up, Chad’s hand pressed down firmly on the small of my back, forcing me down again. He leaned close to my ear, his voice a whisper. “I promised her father she wouldn’t be unhappy here. Just play along. Indulge me this once.” He pushed my waist down a little further, and a bolt of agony lanced through me. Yes, Amber’s father had helped him once. It was right for him to repay that debt. But what about me? Once, I was with him on a site inspection when a piece of machinery malfunctioned. To protect him, I’d thrown myself in front of him without a second thought. A heavy control lever had slammed into my back, leaving me with a permanent injury. He’d held me then, his eyes red, telling me I was reckless, that I’d almost gotten myself killed. He’d massaged my back every single day during my recovery. And now, he was pressing on that very same injury, forcing me to apologize to the person who tormented me. What a pathetic way to repay a debt. Those ten seconds felt like a century. When I finally tried to stand, it felt like my back was broken. Amber gasped, feigning concern. “Oh, I almost forgot! Patty injured her back for you, didn't she, Chad? You’re so thoughtless. It’s not very nice to be so cruel, is it? You might break her heart.” Chad’s hand shot away from me as if burned. His expression was dark and unreadable. “If… if there’s nothing else, you can go.” I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my body trembling. Fighting through the searing pain, I straightened my spine and walked out of the room. Amber’s words were the cruelest cut. There were a million ways to stage an apology. He had chosen the one that would cause me the most physical pain. It took a long time back at my desk before I had the strength to take the resignation letter I’d drafted and hand it to my direct supervisor. He’d fought for me on the promotion, but he couldn’t override Chad’s final word. “The company knows what you’ve given these past seven years. Chad knows it too. You’re still young, there will be other opportunities. Are you sure you don’t want to wait it out?” Later. Next time. Just wait. Over the years, those words had practically become a part of me. It was the later he’d murmur after we made love, when I’d ask when we could finally go public with our relationship. It was the just wait he’d offer after I lost another promotion, when I’d ask when I’d finally have a chance to stand beside him as an equal. It was the next time he’d promise whenever my parents called about marriage, when I’d ask when he would finally come home with me to meet them. I had never questioned my own resolve, but I couldn’t change the ending he had already written for me. I shook my head, a helpless smile on my face. “Twenty-eight isn’t that young. People my age are married with kids. I can’t lose out on my health, my career, and a family, can I?” He didn’t say anything more, just looked at my pale face and signed his name with a sigh of regret. “Finish your handover this week and you’ll be free to go.” “I won’t mention this to Chad,” he added. “It’ll save you some trouble these next few days. Besides, your position doesn’t require you to report to him directly anyway.” A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you, sir.” Just after I submitted the form, a message from Chad popped up on my phone. [How’s your back? I bought some cream. I’ll put it on for you tonight.] This was his typical move. A way of backing down when he knew he’d gone too far but was too proud to apologize. I used to think this was his way of showing he cared. I would even use it as an opportunity to be playful and ask for more affection. Now, I saw it for what it was: a piece of candy to keep me under control. [No need. I’ve booked a massage therapist to come to my place.] As was tradition, there would be a celebratory dinner for the promotion, hosted by management. I politely declined, using my pre-booked massage as an excuse. But Amber grabbed my arm, her face a mask of disappointment. “Patty, does this mean you don’t really accept that I beat you for this position? Is that why you’re making excuses?” “Anyone else can skip, but not you. I want your sincere blessing.” I frowned, about to speak, when Chad, who had just tacitly approved my absence, chimed in. “Everyone else is going. Don’t you think it’s inappropriate for you to be the only one who doesn’t? Show some grace. As a senior employee, you should be able to handle a loss. Don’t be a laughingstock.” He added, “You can get a massage any day.” I froze, a familiar bitterness rising in my throat. I should have known long ago just how cold Chad’s heart was. When a greater benefit was at stake, my feelings were always the first thing to be sacrificed. 3 I was twenty-three, in my second year away from home, when he promised to celebrate my first birthday with me since we’d gotten together. I’d cooked a special dinner, my heart filled with joy, and waited all night. When I finally called him and mentioned my birthday, I could hear a girl crying in the background. There was no apology, no explanation. Just a hint of irritation in his voice, as if I were being childish for making a big deal out of a birthday. He later explained that Amber’s mother had died giving birth to her. Every time someone celebrated a birthday, it reminded Amber of her mother and made her sad. For the next five years, he never celebrated my birthday. He wouldn’t even let me post about it on social media, for fear of upsetting Amber. He always said it was just for show. But even when no one was watching, he never made the slightest effort for me. Now, meeting my supervisor’s pleading gaze, I relented. It was easier not to make a scene. I would treat it as a farewell dinner. At the table, Chad and Amber sat together. She, in her chic power suit, and he, in his tailored blazer, looked like a perfect match. Sometimes, you just have to accept reality. There are some people you can never catch up to, no matter how hard you run. So when a colleague joked that the two of them looked like a power couple, a match made in heaven, I found myself nodding in agreement. “They are a good match. Age, looks, family background… it all fits.” The moment the words left my mouth, both Chad and Mark Chen, the VP he’d been speaking to earlier, stared at me. Usually, at these events, Chad was the subject of endless matchmaking jokes. And every time I heard them, a knot of resentment would tighten in my stomach. I’d either pretend not to hear or sit there with a sour expression. But today, I felt like a spectator, completely unfazed. Amber, however, was glowing from the praise. She shot me a triumphant look. When the conversation inevitably turned to marriage, she steered it directly toward me. “My dad is driving me crazy about getting married. It’s giving me a headache. I heard you have a boyfriend you’ve been with for years, Patty. You’re twenty-eight. Don’t your parents pressure you? You have to tell me your secrets for dodging them.” All eyes turned to me. Even Chad seemed to tense up. I acted as if it were nothing. “Of course they do. But we broke up, so I can’t really help you with that.” A brief, heavy silence fell over the table. Many looked at me with pity. A colleague I was friendly with joked about setting me up with someone. I pulled out my phone. “Sure. Send me his contact.” Crash. Chad’s glass shattered on the table. Shards of glass left thin red lines on his hand. I glanced at it for a second before looking away, no longer feeling the frantic urgency I once would have. A strange, tense atmosphere settled over the dinner. What had started as a celebration ended abruptly. When the cars were arranged, I refused to be put in the same one as Chad. I just held up my phone, showing the ride I’d already hailed, and went home alone. I was just getting ready for bed when the front door opened. Chad, smelling strongly of alcohol, pinned me against it. His kiss was brutal and demanding. He tried to force his way in. The doorknob dug sharply into my injured back. Pain shot through me, and I snapped. I slapped him, hard, across the face. “Chad, what do you take me for?” He slammed the door and left. In five years, we had never had this kind of unspoken war between us. So when he realized I was finally fighting back, Chad couldn’t even be bothered to pretend he cared anymore. He had me reassigned to supervise the construction site in the north district. When the news got out, many of my colleagues were outraged on my behalf. The north district project was an unpaid rework, and the temp workers were resentful and hostile. During the day, there were incidents of falling debris and nails left lying around. At night, there were harassing phone calls and bizarre, staged "hauntings." Three male supervisors had already cracked under the pressure, one ending up in a psychiatric ward and the others in the hospital with injuries. It was no place for a woman. I remembered Chad being woken up in the middle of the night by one of those supervisors, spending hours trying to sort out the mess. I had joked then, “If you ever want to get rid of someone, just send them there. If we ever have a big fight, I’ll just go myself. Out of sight, out of mind.” He had tapped me on the head and said, “Don’t be ridiculous. No matter how much we fight, I would never send you to a place that dangerous.” I guess he was a liar. I packed up my desk with swift, clean efficiency, as if I were never coming back. 4 Mark Chen, as the head of on-site operations, drove me to the site himself. During the drive, he seemed to be struggling with something. Finally, he spoke. “Patty, I know you and Chad are at odds over the promotion. I don’t know why he’s insisting on sending you out here, but it’s not safe for a woman alone. You two should really talk things out.” I had just received the confirmation for my flight on Friday night. A sense of peace settled over me. “I know, Mark,” I said nonchalantly. “The promotion doesn’t matter to me anymore. And it doesn’t matter where I work. I’m fine with it.” My indifference seemed to cut off whatever else he was going to say. He gave me a long, unreadable look before turning his attention back to the road. It was a lie, of course. I was scared. But I only had to endure it for three days. After that, none of this would be my problem. Winter days grew dark early. The previous supervisors had been given special permission to leave before nightfall. But I was required to clock in and out at the standard times. I figured they wouldn’t pull anything too crazy on the first day. The moment my shift ended, I clocked out and ran. There was a short, unlit path leading from the building to the main road. This was the path they said was the most dangerous, a known haunt for creeps and vagrants. I was moving fast, staying alert, but a man with a leering grin suddenly jumped out in front of me. He was completely naked. “Well hello there, little lady. You’re a pretty one.” I fell backward, scrambling away from him on the ground. As he got closer, my hand closed around a piece of scrap wood with a nail sticking out of it. I swung it wildly, hitting him. He cried out in pain, and I seized the opportunity, stumbling and crawling my way to freedom. My hand was bleeding from a splinter, and I couldn’t unlock my phone. Shaking, I pressed the power button five times to dial my emergency contact. Once, twice—no answer. The number, which Chad had set to his own, just kept ringing. I could hear footsteps and curses behind me. I scrambled faster, but in my panic, I twisted my ankle. The phone flew from my hand and clattered to the ground. I didn’t dare go back for it. I finally burst out of the dark path and into the light of the main street. My hand dripping blood, I managed to get a taxi to the police station. Later, when I went back with an officer to retrieve my phone, a call came through. It was Chad. His voice was impatient, the sounds of a party loud in the background. “Did you call? I didn't hear it. What's up?” I could hear Amber’s voice, clear as day, right next to him. “Chad, hang up and come have fun!” I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, unable to speak. My thumb slipped and opened my social media feed. At the top was a video Amber had posted five minutes ago: she and Chad, singing a duet, looking into each other’s eyes.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "388309", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel