Chapter 2

At 2 PM, I sent the proposal to Richard's email.

At 3 PM, he replied with: [Revise again.] Not a single suggestion.

I stared at the screen for five seconds. Then I hit reply: [Got it, Mr. Grant. I'll send it to you tomorrow.]

At 5:30 PM, I clocked out on time.

As I walked out of the building, I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Joey, it's Michael."

"Mr. Brooks, what can I do for you?"

"Once my shares are unlocked, is there any issue with selling them all on the same day?"

There was a brief pause. "Legally, no. But Mr. Brooks, your shares make up 23% of the total. Selling them all at once would cause a huge drop in the stock price."

"I know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll get the paperwork ready. Sign when it's ready."

"One more thing."

"Go ahead."

"Can you draft a resignation letter for me?"

Joey paused for two seconds, then said, "Sure thing, Mr. Brooks."

After hanging up, I stood by the curb for a moment.

The sky was fading, and the office building lit up, floor by floor.

I did the math—Horizon Enterprises now took up floors 14 to 28. Fifteen floors. Seven years ago, they only had two.

Then I turned and walked away.

Day three, four, five. I clocked in, went to meetings, and kept tweaking the proposal. I had the same routine every day.

Richard had me revise it three times, always with the same reply: [Revise again.]

I never asked why.

*****

On the fourth afternoon, an internal email went out: [Horizon Enterprises IPO Bell Ringing Ceremony Arrangements.]

I took a look.

The guest list: Chairman Richard Grant, Vice President Victor Stone, Marketing Director James Quinn, and Technical Director Leo Carter. My name wasn't there.

Project Director, the one responsible for 40% of the company's revenue, couldn't even step onto the stage.

The guy at the next desk snuck a glance at me.

I closed the email and got back to work.

*****

On the fifth night, Joey dropped off all the paperwork at my place: a resignation letter, a share transfer authorization, and a securities account confirmation.

I flipped through each page and signed my name.

Joey gathered the documents and stood up. "Mr. Brooks, after tomorrow's IPO, at the current offering price, your shares will be worth about 2.4 billion dollars."

"Okay."

"If you sell them all at once, the price will take a hit, but even then, you'll walk away with at least 2.2 billion dollars."

"That's enough."

Joey nodded, then paused at the door. "Mr. Brooks, mind if I ask what's really going on between you and Mr. Grant?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just paid my dues."

He didn't press further. He closed the door and left.

I sat on the couch, staring at the cold coffee on the coffee table.

Tomorrow was day six. Horizon Enterprises was going public.

I picked up my phone, opened the trading app, and checked my holdings: 230 million shares, 23% of the total.

At the offering price of 10.2 dollars, that was 2.5 billion dollars.

I put the phone down, turned off the lights, and slept soundly.

*****

Day six. At 9 AM, reporters were packed three deep outside the entrance of the Metro Stock Exchange.

Long lenses and TV cameras were set up everywhere on the steps. Reporters jostled behind the barricades, craning their necks for a better view.

Horizon Enterprises was going public with a valuation of 10.4 billion dollars, the biggest IPO on the Innovation Board this year.

I wore a plain gray shirt and stood at the edge of the crowd. No one noticed me.

Four people stood on the bell-ringing stage. Richard was in the center, in a custom suit with a red flower pinned to his lapel. Victor stood to his left, and James and Leo stood to his right.

All four were smiling ear to ear, waving at the cameras again and again.

At 9:25, the host started the countdown. "Ten, nine, eight..."

Richard grabbed the hammer for the bell. "Three, two, one!"

The hammer came down, and the bell echoed through the hall.

Applause thundered from the audience.

On the screen, Horizon Enterprises' stock price started to climb.

It opened at 10.2 dollars, shot up to 11, then 11.2, 12, and finally hit the ceiling at 13 dollars.

The crowd went wild.

Richard was grinning ear to ear, his eyes practically vanished.

I pulled out my phone and opened the trading app.

My account value had soared to 3.1 billion dollars, at the peak price, for all 230 million shares.

I hit "Sell." All shares. Market price. Confirm.

A pop-up flashed: [You're about to sell all your HD0038 shares. Estimated total: 3.12 billion dollars. Confirm?]

Confirm. My phone vibrated. [Order submitted.]

I slipped my phone into my pocket, pushed through the crowd, and made my way toward the bell-ringing stage.

A security guard stopped me. "Sir, this is the VIP area."

I flashed my badge. "Project Director, Michael Brooks, Horizon Enterprises."

The guard gave it a quick look and let me through.

I headed up the steps.

Richard was in the middle of an interview. "The company's success is thanks to the whole team. As the leader, I—"

I walked right up to him.

He froze for a second when he saw me. "Michael? What are you doing up here?"

I pulled an envelope from my pocket and handed it to him. "Mr. Grant, this is my resignation letter."

He didn't take it. His smile lingered, but confusion flickered in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what it says." I shoved the envelope into his hand. "And there's something else you should know."

"What about it?"

"I sold all my Horizon Enterprises shares."

His smile froze.

Victor turned to me. "What did you say?"

"230 million shares. All of them."

Richard's face went from red to pale in three seconds. "You had 230 million—"

"23% of the total shares," I finished for him. "The contract spelled it out clearly when you brought me in seven years ago."

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

I took a step back. "Mr. Grant, I've paid my dues."

I gave a slight bow. "Goodbye, boss."

As I turned, I heard the microphone slip from his hand and hit the floor. Then came a heavy thud.

I glanced back. Richard had collapsed onto the bell-ringing stage, his face pale as a ghost.

Victor and Leo rushed to steady him.

Someone shouted, "Call an ambulance!"

Reporters swarmed in, camera flashes popped nonstop.