Chapter 4 Chapter 3

I arrived at the office completely worn out. My eyes felt heavy and swollen, my breathing still uneven from running. I was sweaty, disheveled. Definitely not at my best.

I got into the Nexdata elevator — that tech company where I worked, or rather, survived — and as it went up, I gave the presentation one last look. At least that part was perfect.

The company was small, specialized in technology. Nothing special. To be honest, this job was crap. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The elevator doors opened with a ding

. I barely took two steps when I saw Mr. Philip leaving his office. I walked quickly toward him, my heart still racing.

"Good morning, Mr. Philip. I finished the presentation."

He stopped, looked me up and down, and calmly adjusted his glasses.

"Presentation? What presentation?"

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around my phone.

"The one for the new project… the app for influencers."

"Oh, that. We’re not doing it anymore."

My smile faltered. I frowned, unable to hide my frustration.

"We’re not doing it anymore?"

"No."

"I—I stayed up all night working on that..."

"Look, I know you worked hard, but we’re not moving forward with the project."

My jaw clenched. I stood there for a few seconds, trying to keep my composure.

"You could’ve at least warned me, you know? I lost hours on this. Aren’t you even going to look at what I did?"

"No. But maybe you can come up with a new project soon?"

I stood there like an idiot, the presentation still open on my phone. That was it. Hours of work, canceled with a pat on the shoulder. If I had a self-destruct button, I’d have pressed it right then.

"Wait..." I said, following after him.

"Chloe, I already said we’re not continuing the project," he replied without even turning around.

"But that’s wrong. How can you just drop something at the last minute?"

He stopped, turned slowly, and looked at me.

"If you’re not happy, you can just quit."

Son of a bitch. I’d quit right now, easily. But I had bills waiting for me at the end of the month.

I said nothing. My throat tightened, but no words came out.

"Now go back to your desk," he said, already turning his back.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard. The anger burned through me, but I swallowed it down. I turned and went to my desk, my steps heavy.

If I didn’t need this paycheck so badly…

I dropped into my chair, patience long gone. I rolled my eyes and glanced toward Philip’s office. There he was, hitting on the secretary. Again. Disgusting scene. But I had work to do.

Work that he made me slave over like an idiot. I’d slept three hours. Skipped coffee because it had literally spilled on the street. God… could this day get any worse? It could. It always could.

I sighed, fixed my bangs, and looked around. Everything was calm. I opened the browser and went to the complaints website. It had become a routine. For the past two months, using a fake account, I pretended to be an extremely dissatisfied customer.

And the best part? Every comment I made triggered a meeting. One of those long, boring ones where Philip showed up acting all serious, saying we needed to "improve our image."

He had no idea it was me behind it. And you know what?

I didn’t regret a damn thing. Trashing this company had become my favorite hobby.

"Terrible company. I paid for an expensive service, waited twenty-four hours for someone to contact me, and received no call or email. This company is a scam. All I can say is: don’t buy anything here. It’s a waste of money and a massive headache."

I typed the comment proudly. Hit “send” and leaned back in my chair. Now I just had to wait twenty, thirty minutes to see Philip explode — since the coffee didn’t work out today, at least this would make up for it.

I took a sip of water, still savoring the moment, until I heard his office door slam open. The wood hit the wall.

"Meeting. Now," he said, face red, almost boiling.

I glanced at the clock. Five minutes. I smiled. I didn’t even notice, but my face broke into a wide, automatic grin.

I stood up slowly from the chair. Now it was just two hours of the same old speech:

"We’re a family."

"Our image matters."

"We need to deliver a clean, error-free product."

"Our apps exist to help people."

I knew every line, every tone, every facial expression by heart. But this time, inside, I was buzzing. If I could, I’d set off fireworks right there in the room.

I sat in the back, next to Olivia. She adjusted her glasses and gave me a small, knowing smile.

"It was you, wasn’t it?" she whispered, not even looking directly at me.

"Yeah," I replied flatly, crossing my arms. "That bastard deserves it. I worked all night like an idiot for him to just say we’re dropping the project? No fucking way. He deserves my hate comments. And this time, I went all out... he even changed color."

Olivia stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.

"You’re really brave. Aren’t you afraid someone will find out?"

"No." I shrugged, without hesitation.

She looked at me sideways, half impressed, half worried.

I just leaned back, stretched my legs under the table, and stared at the front of the room, where Philip took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before starting the usual lecture. And me? I was in full “watch the chaos” mode.

That meeting only made me sleepier. Several times, Olivia had to nudge me when she noticed I was about to doze off. In the end, Philip just repeated the same crap as always — which meant nothing would change. Again.

The day dragged on. Every time I looked at the clock, the hands seemed to move backward. Every second was torture.

When the workday finally ended, all I felt was relief. The only thing I wanted was to go home and sleep for a week.

I went home on autopilot. As soon as I got in, I kicked my heels off into a corner without aiming. Walked straight to my room, dropping my bag along the way. I didn’t even bother changing out of my work clothes. I collapsed face-first on the bed.

And I passed out.