“You want justice? Then go find yourself a rich dad to fight for you. Too bad—you don’t have one.”
She didn’t bother hiding the contempt on her face as she said coldly, “But I do. I’m the daughter of Wesley Modine, CEO of CipherLux Innovations. With that identity alone, I can crush you so hard you’ll never get back up!”
I stared at her, genuinely wondering where she got that kind of confidence.
I even started doubting my own uncle for a second; could he really have fathered some secret love child behind the family’s back?
I suddenly asked, “I heard Mr. Modine has a niece he treats like his own daughter. Tell me, Miss Sales-Champion Modine, have you met her?”
Sadie’s face froze for a split second before she shot me a disdainful glance.
“That’s my cousin, of course, I’ve seen her. But she’s been living overseas for years. Hardly ever comes back. Even I barely see her. Someone like you—a low-class nobody—don’t even dream about it.”
I let out a short laugh. “Is that so? If the Sales Champion isn’t ‘low-class,’ then why did she steal someone else’s title and bonus? Don’t tell me… you’re the fake heiress?”
“Bitch!” Her face went completely dark as she glared daggers at me. “Phoebe! Don’t push your luck. Your title was revoked because you didn’t deserve it. I earned mine with real skill!”
“Skill?” I took a step closer, staring straight at her.
“You mean the ‘skill’ of playing games at your desk every day? The ‘skill’ of taking two-hour lunch breaks and clocking out exactly at five?
“Or maybe the ‘skill’ of spending an entire day typing only the words ‘Project Plan’ into an empty PowerPoint?”
I wasn’t speaking fast, but every word hit hard enough to make her flinch.
She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Then she shot a desperate look toward Cody.
His face showed that classic can’t-believe-how-useless-you-are expression. Then he turned to me, his voice dropping low.
“Phoebe! Watch your mouth. This is a company, not a fish market. You don’t get to yell and scream here.
“And don’t think that just because you brought in a few projects in the past you can do whatever you want. Survival of the fittest. If someone better replaces you, accept it. Don’t make a scene!”
Everyone turned to look at me, all waiting to watch me embarrass myself over that 70,000 dollars bonus.
Seventy thousand?
I wouldn’t even care if it were five million.
What I wanted wasn’t money. I wanted fairness.
I didn’t explode. I didn’t argue. I just let out a cold, sarcastic laugh.
“Fine. I accept it. A sales champion should indeed belong to someone more ‘competent.’”
The moment I sat back down at my desk, HR sent out two notifications.
[Employee Phoebe Tuffield used company funds for extravagant meals, severely violating company regulations. Effective immediately, Ms. Tuffield is removed from the Sales Manager position and suspended for reflection.
[Intern Sadie Modie bravely defended the company’s interests and has shown outstanding performance during her internship, creating huge profit for the company. Effective immediately, she is promoted to full-time and appointed as the new Sales Manager, taking over all of Ms. Tuffield’s projects.]
Right after that, Cody tagged me in the group chat.
[@Phoebe—wasteful and undisciplined. This month’s bonus will be deducted. Handwrite a 10,000‑word reflection and post it here for everyone to learn from.]
Humiliating.
They stripped me of the sales title, took my bonus, turned me into the company’s cautionary tale, and put me on display like a sacrificial lamb—using my “failure” to boost their authority.
The group chat instantly went silent. Even the entire office felt frozen.
People were sneaking glances at me—some sympathetic, some angry on my behalf, some just enjoying the drama.
The message stayed pinned at the top, unmoving, like they were all waiting for me to lower myself in shame and admit fault.
Then Cody tagged me again.
[@Phoebe. Didn’t you see it?]
I still didn’t respond.
The man must have gone insane; he kept tagging me over and over.
Then Meg sent me a private message.
[Phoebe, stop being stubborn. Just give in a little. Your work is more important.]
