Leave Her in the Dust

Back then, she had been crouching outside a breakfast shop in torn clothes, crying from hunger.

I was the one who reached out to her, gave her a warm meal, brought her into the company, and pushed her all the way to her position as CEO.

Now, she told me that I had nothing to do with it.

I laughed self-deprecatingly. "Fine. Let's act like we never knew each other."

For some reason, Joanna’s heart skipped a beat. Her grip around the phone tightened subconsciously.

But I had already hung up.

The next day, I went to work as usual.

To punish me, Joanna summoned me into her office first thing in the morning and tore into me mercilessly. She threw a proposal in my face and demanded I redo it.

That afternoon, she unexpectedly bought coffee for the entire office while deliberately skipping over me, using Zion's name to help curry favor for him with everyone.

Back when I used to encourage her to build better relationships with coworkers, she had accused me of lowering her status and said leaders needed to maintain dignity.

I genuinely thought she just didn’t understand social dynamics, but now I realized she had understood them perfectly all along.

For seven years, she had kept our relationship secret and avoided even speaking to me at work to avoid suspicion.

Yet today, she was openly targeting me so obviously that everyone in the office kept glancing my way, though nobody dared ask questions.

That evening, we had an extremely important business meeting to attend together. Joanna deliberately brought Zion along, giving me a displeased expression the entire way there.

Once we got to the restaurant, Zion immediately plopped down at the head of the table, before ordering ice cream and all sorts of sugary nonsense from the menu.

Frowning, I reached over to pull him up. "Do you even know who we're meeting tonight?"

Zion pouted.

"Why are you being so submissive, Ethan? Joanna's the CEO, so she's already doing the other party a giant favor by coming to see them personally. If you continue acting so spinelessly, people are going to think that our company's low-class! Aren't I right, Joanna?"

He looked to Joanna for support, and she glanced over at us calmly.

I stared at Joanna as well. She would have this much common sense at least, wouldn't she?

"Zion's right."

As Joanna's words registered in my brain, my eyes widened in disbelief.

"You've spent too long bowing your head towards customers, Ethan. Don't you remember how many business deals I've clinched, even with a strong attitude?"

She had completely forgotten that I was the one who cleaned up after her messes.

At that moment, I had an epiphany.

Letting go of Zion, I nodded.

"Fine. We'll do things your way, Ms. Vale."

Not long after, the client arrived right on time. All of us went to greet him at the entrance.

Joanna immediately pulled Zion beside her and squeezed me aside before smiling brightly at the client. "Mr. Devon, this is Zion Winters, one of our company's talents."

At the dinner table, she stuffed a glass of liquor into my hand.

In the past, she had been the one who made the toasts, while I was the one who drank. This time, I didn't so much as move a muscle.

As the atmosphere grew increasingly awkward, Joanna hesitated for a second before shutting her eyes and forcing herself to drink the liquor herself like a woman on death row.

She had always hated drinking culture at business dinners, and always just watched me down drink after drink at the table.

To think the day would come for her to be the one who made a compromise.

The client knew her reputation well. Seeing her personally drink eased some of his displeasure.

Even though Zion repeatedly sat in the wrong seat, whispered constantly with Joanna during the meeting, and acted spoiled while asking her to pick food for him, the client merely frowned and endured it.

Yet, Zion only became more smug, convinced it was because he and Joanna carried enough status for them to get away with it.

That was until the final specialty dish I'd personally spent thirty thousand dollars ordering was brought to the table.

The client reached out towards the dish with his utensils, but someone else was faster. Zion casually took a piece of one of the best cuts of meat.

I froze on the spot as Zion stuffed the meat into his mouth, happily chewing away.

In our line of work, there was one unspoken rule: the final signature dish had to be tasted by the client first. Once they did, the deal was considered practically secured.

Now…

Bam!

In a fit of rage, the client slammed the table.