Kneel to His Two Sweethearts? I'm Out

"I have my own arrangements," I replied and hung up the phone.

Then, I glanced at my watch. There were fewer than 24 hours left until the three-year term was up.

I took a cab to Terrell Tower.

The entire building was pitch black.

Everyone in the company had already gone home. Only Wesley Hanson was still sitting at his desk, fully absorbed, eyes fixed on the screen.

He was so focused that he hadn't even noticed the coffee by his hand had long gone cold.

I remembered him because he was the true technical backbone of Terrell Group and the only person who had actually done any real work over the past three years.

But to keep power from slipping out of his hands, Geoffrey had deliberately kept Wesley under his thumb the whole time.

All the dirty, grueling work fell on Wesley's shoulders, yet all the credit went to Geoffrey.

Geoffrey had even gone so far as to withhold Wesley's year-end bonus from the previous year just to pressure him into signing a non-compete agreement, effectively trying to box him in and lock him down in that role.

Before, since the company belonged to Geoffrey, it wasn't my place to interfere. The best I could do was find roundabout ways to slip Wesley some extra money on the side.

But now…

"Ms. Bennett, what brings you here?"

Seeing me, Wesley set down his pen and rose to his feet, looking somewhat startled.

"The bug's almost fixed. Please just don't tell Mr. Terrell or dock my pay. My mom is still in the hospital."

The ones doing the real work walked on thin ice, while the ones putting on a show basked in boundless glory. Why should those who work hard be trampled upon?

I pulled over a chair and, after sitting down, placed the documents on the desk.

"You don't have to fix the bug anymore."

Wesley froze. "What?"

"You designed Terrell Group's system architecture and wrote the underlying code—not to mention Geoffrey's so-called smart algorithm is actually your patent, isn't it?"

Wesley fell silent for a moment, his back straight and rigid.

"How much does he pay you?" I asked.

"Fifteen thousand dollars," Wesley replied in a low but steady voice. "But Mr. Terrell said he would give me stock options—"

"Nothing but empty promises," I said with a cold laugh. "Geoffrey has already prepared your termination letter. As soon as the bell-ringing ceremony is over tomorrow, he plans to fire you on the grounds of leaking technical secrets, and you won't see a cent of severance."

Wesley furrowed his brows deeply.

"That's impossible! I've given ten years of my life to this company."

"Nothing's impossible. In his eyes, you're just a useful tool. And once a tool has served its purpose, it's only natural to toss it away."

I pointed to the documents on the table.

"Take a look at this."

Wesley reached for the papers, and after just one glance, his entire body went rigid.

"Equity transfer agreement? The transferee… Wesley Hanson?"

He looked at me, eyes wide with shock.

"Ms. Bennett, what is the meaning of this? How is it that you hold equity in Terrell Group?"