Ripping Off Their Mask

Leslie said that as long as she secured the deal with my company, she could gradually repay the 150,000 loan.

Her boss had promised that after the layoffs, all resources would go to the one employee who remained to groom them for success.

If she made it through, earning 20,000 a month wouldn’t be difficult. Step by step, she could turn her fabricated persona into reality.

But first, she had to survive the cull.

I had wanted to help her, but I hadn’t foreseen this chaos.

Only five minutes remained.

I strode forward, snatched the scissors from Grandma’s hands, and yanked the network cable from Ben’s grip.

“Just five minutes! After that, I’m done!” I said firmly.

Ben wailed even louder as he pointed at me and screamed, “You worthless loser making only 3,000 a month! How dare you take my stuff? I’ll beat you to death!”

Aunt Mary let go of him and watched as he threw a flurry of punches at me.

My dad stepped in to restrain him, but before he could say a word, Aunty Mary lashed out at him, "What do you think you’re doing? He’s just a child! His punches don’t even hurt! It’s nothing more than play-fighting!"

Grandma smacked my arm and then turned to Ben. “Bad Allison! Grandma hit her, see? Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

As she spoke, she struck my back twice more.

Although the blows didn’t hurt much, my parents’ faces darkened.

But wielding her age like a shield, Grandma snapped at my mom.

“What’s that look for? Are you planning to hit your own mother, Jen? Allison is old enough so what’s the big deal about a couple of slaps?

“My precious grandson is crying his eyes out—how are you going to make up for that?”

Aunt Mary smirked triumphantly at my parents.

They weren’t ones to stir up trouble so for the sake of keeping the peace, they let it go.

I plugged in the network cable, ignoring the chaos behind me. There was no time to argue—I had to send the email immediately.

But my business partners had already lost their patience.

One of them was furiously tagging me in our group chat, making it clear that if the proposal wasn’t in by eight o’clock, they wouldn’t even bother looking at it—no matter how brilliant it was.

I understood their frustration. Working overtime during the holidays was already frustrating enough.

With three minutes left, I rushed to send the file. The network lagged a little, but it should have gone through.

Then I hurried to the bathroom.

By the time I returned, the clock had struck eight.

I thought everything was fine. The proposal had been sent in time. Crisis averted.

But when I sat down to check my business partner’s response, my mind went blank.

The proposal hadn’t gone through. It had been recalled.

Seeing nothing in the chat, my partners, now fuming, announced that they wouldn’t review it at all.

Panicking, I tried to resend the file only to find it gone.

I looked up.

There was Ben, grinning at me, his face full of mischief.

I stared at him. “Did you delete the file?”

He stuck out his tongue.

“That’s what you get for being mean to me! Just teaching you a lesson so you know who’s in charge. Hmph!”

…

Aunt Mary’s hostile gaze pierced through me.

“What’s that look for? Are you planning to hit him? He’s just a child! What’s wrong with a kid being a little playful?

“You’re an adult, and you’re holding a grudge against him? How pathetic can you be?”

She scoffed and added coldly, “It’s just a file. So what if it got deleted? What kind of ‘valuable’ documents could someone with your measly salary even have?

“Worst case, you get fired. That’d actually be a blessing—you can finally come home, find a husband, and give your parents some peace of mind.”

I shut my eyes briefly, forcing down the anger.

Turning back to the computer, I quickly messaged Leslie, urging her to resend the file immediately.

Maybe—just maybe—there was still a chance to fix this.