In his eyes, my value had already been drained dry.
I was like a high-speed engine—too noisy, not pretty enough—ready to be replaced by shinier, more decorative parts.
What he needed now was no longer an engineer who could solve critical technical challenges, but a cheerleader to sing his praises.
I watched his mouth keep moving, the same tired clichés spilling out.
I knew then—the time had come.
Five years.
I had poured the best years of my life into this place.
I had built the company’s entire architecture, handled countless emergencies, and provided its most solid backbone.
As the engineer who designed it all, I knew every single screw in this machine.
I had thought this was my career, my creation, my life’s work.
But now I saw clearly—I was just a sentimental fool of a programmer.
Fine.
I cut him off mid-lecture, my voice so calm it startled even me.
“…David Ross, you’re right.”
David kept talking, spit flying so close it nearly hit my face.
All those lofty words sounded like chewed-up sugarcane—flavorless, bitter.
I looked at him and nodded solemnly during a pause, as though I’d just had an epiphany.
“David, I understand now.”
A smug smile crossed his face. He was about to deliver his perfect closing remarks.
But I didn’t give him the chance.
Meeting his shocked gaze, I calmly opened my laptop and drafted a new email right there in front of him.
The recipient? The CEO of Riverton Labs.
“Sophie, what are you doing?”
David’s face twisted from triumph to alarm, his brows furrowing in suspicion.
He thought I was bluffing, trying to scare him with childish theatrics.
I ignored him, fingers tapping softly on the keyboard, loud enough for him to hear every word I was writing.
“Michael Chen, hello. Last month you mentioned wanting me to join as your Chief Technology Officer. Is the offer still on the table?”
David’s pupils contracted sharply.
I kept typing, my tone as calm as if I were filing a weekly report.
“If yes, I can bring a complete, mature system architecture with me.”
“It has been market-tested for over five years, supports millions of daily active users,”
“and holds full independent intellectual property rights, with no legal conflicts with my current employer.”
Before I could even hit send, my phone rang—it was Michael.
I glanced at David’s darkened face and put the call on speaker.
Michael’s voice came through, steady and clear.
“Sophie, first of all, congratulations. I heard things aren’t great with your current company.”
“If you join us, your salary and position will exceed expectations, and we’ve reserved the largest possible share of stock options for you.”
“Thank you, Michael. I’ll be in touch.”
The entire process was smooth, decisive—without a second’s hesitation.
The office was dead silent.
David’s face had gone from shock to a dark, furious shade.
His chest heaved as though he’d been punched, struggling to catch his breath.
He glared at me, eyes full of disbelief and rage.
“Sophie!”
