I pulled the silver flash drive from the tablet's port. Sienna’s fingers tightened on the plastic edge for a fraction of a second before she let go, her lips pursing into a thin line.
"I need the raw data files on this to fix your broken formulas," I said, dropping the drive into my pocket.
Sienna crossed her arms, leaning her weight against the partition wall. "Fine. Just make sure the final version has my name as the lead author. Dom wants to see my leadership skills reflected in the quarterly reports."
"I will format the header exactly how you want it," I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on my monitor.
"Make sure you do," she muttered. "Dom is already stressed enough today. He doesn't need you causing another scene."
She spun around and marched back toward the executive suites.
Alone at my desk, I unlocked my phone. I didn't open the budget spreadsheet. I opened a PDF file secured inside my encrypted folder. The scanned severance and non-disclosure agreement glared back at me, bearing the bold signature of our corporate counsel, Caleb Thorne. I had signed it during the first week of Dominic and Sienna’s month-long road trip, quietly severing both my employment and my relationship with Dominic while they were busy taking sunset photos.
I stared at the scanned signature for a long moment, tracing the date with my eyes. The screen went dark as I locked the phone and shoved it into my blazer.
The glass doors to the design floor swung open, hitting the metal stops with a loud crack.
Dominic strode in, his face pulled into a tight scowl. Sienna trailed closely behind him, carrying a thick stack of my printed schematics.
"Gather around, everyone," Dominic projected his voice across the open-plan office. "Right now."
Keyboards stopped clacking. Chairs rolled backward. Heads popped up over the low partition walls.
Dominic stopped directly in front of my desk. He snatched the stack of papers from Sienna and slammed them down next to my keyboard. The impact rattled my empty coffee cup.
"Rowan, explain this," he demanded.
I looked at the top sheet. It was the user-interface design I had spent the last three weeks perfecting, working late into the night while he took Sienna to expensive dinners. "These are the final wireframes for the Q4 launch."
"These are garbage," Dominic countered, his voice carrying to the far corners of the room. "Sienna just reviewed the integration flow. She found twelve critical errors that would crash the entire backend."
"I ran the diagnostics yesterday," I said evenly. "The flow is stable."
"Are you calling Sienna a liar?" Dominic leaned over my desk, planting his knuckles on the white surface. "She spent her entire morning trying to salvage this mess. If we go to the board with these wireframes, we lose the Series C funding."
Sienna stepped forward, placing a hand on Dominic's arm. "Dom, please. Don't be too hard on her. Rowan isn't used to managing the full scope of a project this large. She probably just got overwhelmed."
"She needs to learn accountability," Dominic snapped, brushing Sienna's hand away to emphasize his anger. He picked up the stack of designs, shaking them in the air. "We are allocating the annual performance bonus to the marketing department this year. Sienna saved this company from a massive embarrassment today."
I watched his hands grip the edges of my work. The performance bonus. That was a fifty-thousand-dollar payout he was shifting directly into Sienna's pocket.
"You are giving the design team's bonus to marketing," I stated.
"I am rewarding competence," Dominic said loudly, making sure every designer in the room heard him. "And I am punishing negligence. You are the lead on this project, Rowan. This failure falls on you."
"The design team worked overtime for two months to finish this," I said, keeping my tone conversational. "Taking their bonus penalizes everyone for a mistake you claim I made."
"Then they should blame their manager," Dominic retorted, his eyes narrowing. "You signed off on these files. You approved the flawed architecture. If you spent less time worrying about office politics and more time doing your job, we wouldn't be in this situation."
A heavy silence settled over the room. I could feel the eyes of twenty designers burning into my back. To my left, Director Pierre stepped out from his cubicle. He crossed his arms, his thick gray eyebrows knitting together in a deep frown. He knew those wireframes were flawless. He had approved them himself just two days ago.
Pierre opened his mouth, taking a half-step toward Dominic.
In the past, I would have welcomed his intervention. I would have pulled up the source code right then and there. I would have forced Dominic to look at the screen, to see the clean architecture, to admit Sienna didn't even know how to read the programming language. I would have fought until my throat went raw to defend my work. I would have demanded an apology.
Instead, I looked up at Dominic's flushed, angry face.
"You are right," I said.
Dominic blinked, the aggressive posture faltering for a split second. "Excuse me?"
"I take full responsibility," I said, my voice steady and clear. "The errors are my fault. I will reflect on my mistakes."
Sienna’s eyes widened. She exchanged a quick, confused glance with Dominic. They had come down here expecting a war. They had armed themselves for a screaming match, ready to paint me as the hysterical, jealous ex-fiancée in front of the entire staff.
"That is it?" Dominic asked, his tone dropping into a suspicious register. "No excuses?"
"No excuses," I repeated. "I accept the penalty. Sienna deserves the bonus for catching the flaws."
Pierre shifted on his feet, his frown deepening into a scowl of pure disbelief. "Rowan, what are you saying? Those files are—"
"Flawed," I interrupted, cutting Pierre off. I met his gaze and gave him a microscopic shake of my head. "I made a mistake, Director Pierre. We have to accept the consequences."
Pierre stared at me for a long moment. He clamped his jaw shut and stepped back into the shadows of his cubicle.
Dominic watched the exchange, searching my face for any sign of sarcasm or underlying rage. Finding none, his chest puffed out again. He had won. He had broken my spirit so thoroughly that I wouldn't even defend my own masterpiece.
"Good," Dominic said, a smug smile finally breaking through his scowl. "I am glad you are finally acting like a professional. Start over from scratch. Have the new drafts on my desk by Monday."
"I will get right on it," I said.
To punctuate his victory, Dominic grabbed the top half of the wireframe stack. He twisted his wrists, ripping the thick cardstock straight down the middle. The sound of tearing paper echoed sharply in the quiet office.
He tossed the torn halves onto the floor at my feet.
"Clean this up," he ordered.
"Of course," I replied.
Dominic turned on his heel and walked away. Sienna offered me a pitying smile before hurrying after him, her hand sliding down to interlock with his as they pushed through the glass doors.
The office remained dead silent. None of the other designers moved.
I pushed my chair back and knelt on the gray carpet. I reached out, gathering the torn pieces of cardstock into a neat pile. My thumb brushed over the bottom right corner of the ruined page. Dominic had torn right through the center of the design, never noticing the tiny alphanumeric code stamped at the bottom of the margin.
My fingertip pressed firmly against the printed text: US Patent Reg. No. 948271.
