Chapter 3 The Project h****k
1139 Words
The morning after Katherine joined the company, Joseph called an all-hands meeting.
When I walked into the conference room, every seat along the long table was already taken. I scanned the crowded room and quietly claimed a chair at the far end, right next to the trash can.
Joseph stood commanding the space in front of the whiteboard, his expression rigid and solemn.
"We are restructuring our R&D architecture," he announced, flipping to the next slide of his presentation. "Adelynn, starting today, you will transition into a technical advisor role. You don't need to volunteer your input during daily operations—just speak up when you're consulted."
"Understood," I replied, my voice completely devoid of emotion.
He clicked to the next slide, and the screen flashed with the financial risk control project I had been spearheading.
"Following a thorough evaluation, it has been decided that this project requires a more mature and experienced hand at the helm." Joseph paused, casting a look around the room.
"Katherine previously spearheaded a highly similar business line during her tenure at the Byrd Group. Therefore, I am reassigning leadership of this project to her."
I watched in silence as he handed the project documentation—the very project I had poured three months of blood, sweat, and tears into—directly into another woman's hands.
Katherine took the file, casually flipped through a few pages, and then looked up to flash me a smug, dismissive smile.
"Some people spend three months achieving what doesn't even take me a single day's work," she remarked loudly. "I'll have this entire project wrapped up by this afternoon."
The room plunged into a momentary, stunned silence, followed immediately by a wave of hushed whispers and murmurs.
As the chatter began to swell, Joseph swept his eyes across the room, his tone authoritative as he instantly crushed the dissenting noise.
"Katherine possesses extensive industry resources. Her vision and depth of experience far exceed where our current team stands. There is no need to question this decision. Handing the project to her is the optimal arrangement for the company."
He was blatantly playing favorites, stepping up to shield her and anchor her authority while completely ignoring the thick, suffocating tension in the room.
I calmly averted my eyes, feeling nothing.
Around three in the afternoon, my phone buzzed with a notification from the R&D group chat.
Katherine had shared a screenshot of the completed project. In the image, the progress bar was locked at one hundred percent, all tests flashed green, and the deployment package was fully compiled.
She attached a single line of text: I said it would be done today, and it's done today.
The group chat exploded instantly.
Everyone from engineering to operations to marketing scrambled to flatter her. Compliments like "Katherine is incredible" and "The heiress of the Byrd family really is on another level" flooded the screen by the dozens.
Finally, Joseph chimed in, locking the thread with his message: Splendid work. Tonight is on me—let's all gather to celebrate Katherine's triumph.
Following that, dozens of flattering messages filled the screen.
I scrolled through the messages, studying the screenshot. The test data displayed was entirely the result of my three months of relentless optimization. She hadn't touched the framework or altered the core logic; she had merely executed the final, superficial wrap-up.
Yet, knowing her true capabilities, she probably couldn't even manage that on her own. This was undoubtedly the work of an outsourced savior she had hired behind the scenes.
I flipped my phone face down onto the desk and returned to typing.
On my monitor, the administrative interface for the financial backend was open. The access privileges for this particular module were still exclusively mine.
While they were wasting their breath worshiping Katherine in the chat, I quietly buried a sleeper strand of code deep within the foundation of the financial settlement module.
It would remain completely dormant for now, completely imperceptible. But one day, it would wake up.
By six-thirty in the evening, the administrative staff had already transformed the lounge into a lavish celebration. Balloons drifted through the air, champagne bottles popped, and a massive banner reading "Congratulations, Katherine" spanned an entire wall.
A tight crowd swarmed around Katherine, laughing and chatting. She sat enthroned in the center, lifting a champagne flute. Joseph stood right beside her, his hand resting casually, possessively, on her waist.
When he looked up and caught sight of me standing at the periphery, he raised his hand to wave me over.
I stood rooted to the spot.
He signaled a second time, then leaned down to whisper something into Katherine's ear before setting his glass down and walking briskly toward me.
"Come to my office for a moment," he muttered under his breath. "We need to talk."
I followed him inside. The moment the heavy door clicked shut, the raucous noise of the party outside was instantly muffled, cut off from the quiet room.
He walked over to his desk and leaned back against the edge, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest. When he spoke, his voice shifted into that warm, considerate cadence I had heard a thousand times before.
"Addie, don't overthink what happened today. Passing the project to Katherine is just for show. Throwing this celebration is just a tactic to keep her happy."
He paused, his eyes locking onto mine, his voice dropping into an intimate whisper.
"I know very well that you are the real brains behind this project. The company can't function without you, and I certainly can't live without you. Once the partnership with her family is set in stone, we'll get married right away."
I stared at him. His eyes were bright with a terrifying, absolute certainty.
He seemed completely convinced that I would nod meekly, utterly certain that I had nowhere else to go.
"Just play along with me for this one act, alright?"
The way he softened his voice on that last word carried a familiar, manipulative charm.
That was exactly how he used to coax me into taking my medicine when I was sick, or soothe me to sleep when I was restless.
Now, he was using that exact same tenderness to demand I hand over three months of my life's work without making a scene.
I lowered my gaze, bit the inside of my lip, and gave him a single, silent nod.
A relieved smile broke across his face, and he stood up to give my shoulder a reassuring pat.
"I knew I could count on you."
He pulled the door open and stepped out, allowing the roaring laughter and music from the party to rush back in and engulf me.
In the silence of my mind, I whispered to myself, "Just endure one more day. Tomorrow is the final day."
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