Jumping Ship After He Steals My Job with Her

When the conglomerate's heir parachutes into our company, he conveniently brings along a "poor student" he's been sponsoring for years. That afternoon, they turn the entire office upside down.

The young heir, Matthew Zohart, has no idea how to handle problems. All he knows how to do is smooth things over.

He lets Gracie Fowler blow through my team's entire bonus and just stands there as she throws a tantrum in the open office.

"I'm the future daughter-in-law chosen by the Zohart family!" she shrieks. "What are you people, anyway? Just a bunch of office drones!"

Enraged, I rip off my work badge and turn to walk out.

The very next second, Matthew drops down and grabs my leg. "You can't leave! I don't know how to do anything! If the team leader who actually gets things done quits, won't my family's company collapse?"

After three years of blood, sweat, and tears working at Zohart Group, we finally came out on top of the other team, and I finally had a chance at a promotion and a raise.

Out of the blue, the company's heir showed up for his first day at work, bringing with him a poor student he had sponsored for years.

When I heard the news, I was having a cup of my well-needed coffee in the pantry. I looked outside and saw a group surrounding a strikingly handsome man. He stood in the very middle, nervously distributing gifts.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Matthew Zohart, the new general manager. I'll arrange something soon so that we can all go out together and get to know one another."

Standing beside him was a young woman dressed in a white dress. She smiled gently and introduced herself. "Hello, everyone—Gracie Fowler here. I'm kind of frail most of the time, so please take extra good care of this soft little girl!"

Amid my daze, a small gift box had been placed in my hands. Matthew was smiling as he handed it to me, his expression full of the nervousness of someone who had just started a new role.

Honestly, it stabbed my heart.

In that moment, I could feel the reality of having a 30-thousand-dollar monthly salary as the newly appointed supervisor slowly collapsing, and I was reduced to a life of grinding as a regular employee.

A wave of irritation rose in my chest. Mortgage payments were coming up again soon, and my side hustle needed to pick up the slack. Well, at least my livestream sales had been doing well lately.

Unamused, I dragged my feet and returned to my desk. For some reason, Gracie followed me over.

"You must be the team leader, Claire Simpson, right? I got assigned to your team!" she said.

The cheap shampoo smell that came off her hit my nose and gave me an instant headache. Regardless, after adding Gracie to the project group chat, I asked her to review the materials and create a preliminary summary.

It should have taken her about 30 minutes at most, but after lunch break, I still hadn't seen her do any work. Instead, she was lying on the desk, excitedly poking and peeking at everything.

The desk was covered with over a dozen cute figurines. Even the documents for the contracts had new bow stickers stuck on them. She looked exactly like a kid who had just walked into kindergarten.

I sighed helplessly. I wanted to beckon her over, but she grabbed her cup and headed to the pantry. My eyes widened slightly as I caught a glimpse of her swaying skirt—a vivid red patch had tainted it dead centre.

I quickly fished out a tampon, removed my outerwear, and ran up to her. "Hey, your period came. You can use this for now."

Before I could say more, Gracie rolled her eyes at me and started mocking me out of nowhere. "Yeah, I got it, Ms. Simpson. By the way, how stingy of you to just offer me one. I know what you're trying to do.

"Trying to show off some skin and get a man's attention? Please—look at the goosebumps on your arms and those non-existent boobs. Seriously, what makes you think you have anything to flaunt?"

I was baffled. My hand, still holding the tampon, didn't know whether to retreat or extend.

Gracie reacted first. She swung her hips dramatically and sauntered past me, leaving another comment in her wake.

"Having a menstrual period is a woman's privilege to gain sympathy. Only by showing it will Matty feel a sense of eagerness to protect me and help me with my work.

"You can't deprive me of the chance to show my vulnerability just because you're about to have menopause soon. Oh, by the way, I've asked someone else to do the summary for me. Will ping you when I'm done!"

…

The words coming out of Gracie's mouth were absurd, to say the least. It instantly made me want to tear the tampon in half and slap it right on her face.

When I finally returned to my desk, a few of my male colleagues came up to me with grim expressions. "Ms. Simpson, that newcomer's dress is stained. I don't think we're in a good position to point it out to her."

I took a long, deep breath and coldly answered, "Relax. In no time, her precious Matty will run to the convenience store and get her some tampons. It's better that ordinary folks like us stay out of that princess' business."