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Bring Your Own A4? I Brought the Company Bankruptcy Instead Novel Cover

Bring Your Own A4? I Brought the Company Bankruptcy Instead

When a project manager attempts to secure a contract, he is blocked by Lydia Reed, an arrogant administrative employee who refuses to provide printing paper. Claiming he is a 'bottom feeder' who makes no contributions, she demands he bring his own supplies. In response to being denied company resources for a critical deal, the manager makes a single phone call to Mr. Cross. By withdrawing from a 200-million-dollar bid, he sets a path for the company's total collapse.
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Chapter 2

I gripped the USB drive so tightly that the metal casing bit into my palm.

Memories from three months of sleepless nights and hard work flashed before my eyes—Walter Brooks revising plans on his laptop while sitting in a hospital waiting room, Claire Bennett's eyes red from crying over a single data error, and the pile of stomach medicine on Jason's desk…

I stormed out of the administrative office and headed straight for the CEO's office. With a kick, the heavy door slammed into the wall with a deafening crash.

The CEO, Dominic Thorne, jerked from fright and spilled coffee all over himself.

As I forced my anger down, I said, "Mr. Thorne, the admin says we have to bring our papers for printing. The Gyrfalcon Project's bidding deadline is tonight, and the proposal urgently needs printing… Are you going to do something about this or not?"

He was still rattled, but his expression darkened immediately. "Elliot, have you lost your mind? Rules are rules! I don't care if it's a 200-million-dollar deal or two billion; you follow my rules!"

I clenched my fists. "The nearest printing shop is over 13 miles away. There's no way we can make it in time!"

"That's a problem for you to solve," he said, regaining composure and taking a slow sip of the coffee. "As a project manager, you shouldn't lack such basic adaptability."

I looked at the half-smiling expression on his face and remembered Jason telling me that Dominic never wanted our team to have the Gyrfalcon Project. He wanted it for his brother-in-law and the sales director, Grant Sterling.

My eyes were red-rimmed as I dashed back to the administrative office and pleaded in a trembling voice, "Lydia… I'm begging you. Just think of it as a loan to me, alright? I'll pay you back double once the project bonus hits my bank account…"

She looked at me like I'd just told her the world's funniest joke. Leaning forward, she lowered her voice and replied, "Elliot, don't you get it yet? This isn't about papers."

She tapped her fingernails on the desk and smiled. "These are rules, and you… aren't important enough for me to break them."

Just then, my phone rang, and the caller ID "Harvey Cross from Deltis Group" started flashing on the screen.

I looked at Lydia's face, etched with contempt, then at the mountain of papers behind her, and thought of Dominic's arrogant face. A surge of searing heat rushed to my head.

After tapping on the answer button, I said in a terrifyingly calm voice, "Mr. Cross."

"Mr. Ward! Have you sent the file? All the judges are here, waiting for your proposal—"

"That 200-million-dollar contract," I interrupted and kept my eyes locked on Lydia as her expression froze. "We're pulling out."

There was a stunned cry from the other end of the line, but I'd already hung up.

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the marble floor with a sharp crack. The screen instantly shattered into fragments.

For a second, the entire office fell dead silent before Lydia bolted up from her chair like a cat whose tail had been stomped on.

"Elliot, have you lost your mind? That's a 200-million-dollar project, and you just walked away! Who gave you the nerve?"

She stormed around the desk, her high heels clicking aggressively until she was near and pointing fingers so close she nearly poked my face.

"You're just a low-level project manager, so don't flatter yourself! Believe me, I could have security throw you out right now!"

I bent down and slowly picked up my phone. The cracked screen reflected my distorted face.

"Are you deaf? Say something!" she snapped. Her chest heaved with rage, and her eyes shot daggers.

"Stop standing there like a statue! I'm telling you—you can't handle the fallout, so call Mr. Cross right now to tell him that it was a joke!"

When I remained unmoved, her voice turned shrill and mocking. "Oh, I get it now. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Are you using the project to threaten me just because I didn't give you paper? I never knew you were this childish, Elliot. This is pathetic!"

She circled me, looking me up and down with a sneer. "Before you throw a tantrum, at least know your place. What makes you think you're indispensable when the company works just fine without you? Let me tell you something—there are plenty of project managers out there like you!"

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