My Boss Used Me, I Kicked Him Out After Rebirth

The next day, I went to Jared.

"Running to building management, sabotaging a coworker's housing — when did you get this cheap, Jared?"

He didn't even flinch at being called out.

"Sorry, Chloe. You forced the issue. If you won't pair, I had to use what I had."

What a performer.

Yesterday he was icing me out for Stephanie. Today, the minute he thought I was cracking, he was back to concerned-manager mode.

"I can agree. But you meet me on a few conditions."

Stephanie swooped in.

"Really? Oh my god, that's great, Chloe. Name your terms. Jared and I will work with whatever you need."

I was supposedly the core of this whole partnership, and Stephanie had framed me as the person being granted a favor.

I ignored her.

"One. All core data and final deliverables live on my machine, under my custody, from here to the end."

"Two. We do not file with HR. This pairing stays off the registry. No one outside this room knows."

Jared visibly hesitated at "off the registry." Skipping HR was a violation. The downside was ugly.

I kept piling on.

"You've both told me, repeatedly, how sincere you are about this partnership. From a risk perspective, what I'm asking is minimal. Or is the problem that you're only comfortable when I'm the one holding the risk?"

"That is not what I meant." Jared shifted. "Custody is fine. The off-registry piece — that's significant exposure."

I looked at him like I was explaining to a child.

"High risk is where the upside is. With what the three of us can put on the board, we want to be in the solo pool. Mixed in with the free agents, we run away with it."

"You don't get many chances in a career to crush the field on easy mode."

Stephanie lit up.

"Jared. Chloe's right. If none of us says anything, who would ever find out?"

She was batting those bright, innocent eyes, caught up in the math of it.

Eventually, money won. Jared nodded.

For the next couple of months, the three of us ran a play-act of falling out. They thought they had me handled. I didn't care — I clocked in on time, memorized the core model line by line on my own, and locked the most important client data where only I had the key.

And then the final year-end evaluation arrived.

I walked into the System evaluation room alone. The countdown on the big screen ticked to zero. A clean chime. The System locked. No partnership status could be changed from that point forward.

A second later, the partnership chat inside my head lit up, chimes banging.

"Chloe. What are you doing? We present in two minutes. Send me the core data model. NOW."

Jared's voice, irritated. Entitled.

Stephanie right behind him: "Yeah, Chloe, don't play games. That model is Jared's blood-work. Don't try to take it all for yourself."

I stared at their gibbering in the chat. I calmly pulled up the System panel and clicked Terminate Partnership.

In my previous life, in this exact moment, they had stripped me of everything I'd built and kicked me out.

This time, we ended it differently.

I smiled, cold, and pressed Confirm.

"Right. Keep your own blood, sweat, and tears."