Chapter 2

Back at my rented place, I didn't break down and cry like some abandoned puppy.

I set my box in the corner, fired up my laptop, and started updating my resume.

Then I reached out to a few top headhunters in the industry.

The phone started ringing again, right when I least needed it. This time, it was the company's internal line.

I figured it was either Brandon or Arthur calling.

I hit mute and let it buzz away on the desk.

Meanwhile, back at the group's headquarters, dozens of miles away, the atmosphere in the top-floor office was so thick one could cut it with a knife.

Daniel slammed his phone down on the desk, his chest heaving with rage.

He shouted, "I can't get through. Caryl actually has the nerve to ignore my calls and even block me."

Brandon and Arthur stood in front of the desk, heads bowed, not daring to breathe.

"Dad, don't get worked up. She's just a fired employee acting out," Brandon said, forcing himself to speak up.

"Acting out?" Daniel snorted, as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. "That Mid East deal was worth 500 million bucks. Now the client's gone completely radio silent. You really think this is just her acting out?"

Arthur's knees were shaking. He was scared out of his mind.

He'd pulled out every trick in the book these past few days, fired off email after email to Jared's company, but never got a single reply back.

Whenever they did respond, it was just the same old corporate line: [We'll discuss it and get back to you later.]

Their frosty attitude left him totally stumped.

It was then that Arthur realized what he'd received from me was nothing but a hollow shell.

*****

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, throwing a bright patch onto the floor.

I woke up to my phone ringing. It was a number I didn't recognize.

I answered, but didn't say a word.

"Caryl? It's Brandon," he said.

His voice was full of that smug, holier-than-thou attitude, like I should be grateful he even bothered to call.

I gave a noncommittal "yeah," waiting for him to continue.

"Dad tried to call you yesterday. Why didn't you answer?" Brandon pressed, his voice accusing.

"It's just a spam call from a number I didn't know," I shot back coolly.

Brandon seemed taken aback by how blunt I was.

He cleared his throat, changed the subject, and went full boss mode. "Get back to the office. There's trouble with the mid east project, and you have to come fix it."

"Fix it?" I nearly laughed out loud, barely able to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Yeah, fix it," Brandon repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Relax, you won't be doing it for nothing. We'll pay you triple your usual overtime rate."

I stayed silent.

Not because I was actually thinking about his ridiculous offer, but because I couldn't believe how ludicrous Brandon really was.

He honestly believed that money could fix anything, that it could erase all the crap he'd put me through.

To him, people were nothing but tools: tossed out when he was done with them, then threw a little cash their way, expecting them to come running back when he needed them.

"Mr. Jenkins," I said, my voice cold and clear, "did you forget? You were the one who said I wasn't competent enough, that I couldn't keep up with where the company was headed.

"Now with the company in such deep trouble, someone you said wasn't up to the job probably won't be much help anyway."

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end.

I could imagine Brandon's face turning so red with fury. He probably looked like he was about to explode.

After what felt like forever, his voice finally crackled through the phone, thick with anger and embarrassment.

"Caryl, don't get cocky!" Brandon snapped. "Who do you think you are? You're someone we fired. How dare you put on airs with me?

"This business circle is small. I've got a hundred ways to make sure you never work in this line again."

He was practically roaring now, spitting out threats left and right.

That was his last trick. When reason and money failed, all he had left were threats.

I couldn't help but scoff, "Is that so? Go ahead, I'll be waiting."

With that, I hung up on him again, not even bothering to wait for his response.

I could practically hear something smashing on the other end of the line. Maybe it was a mug, or maybe it was just his precious ego getting crushed.

*****

In Brandon's office, a custom cup lay shattered on the floor.

Arthur stood off to the side, shivering, hardly daring to breathe.

Brandon's eyes blazed red as he stomped around the office like a pissed-off bull, looking ready to tear the place apart.

"Useless! Every last one of you is useless," Brandon barked, jabbing his finger right at Arthur.

Arthur didn't dare say a word back. He just kept mumbling apologies.

"Mr. Jenkins, let me try again. I'll get in touch with Mr. Torres," Arthur blurted out, practically tripping over his words in a panic.

This time, he did something even dumber.

He tracked down Jared's private social media account and started blowing up his DMs and comments, desperately begging for a reply. He was basically harassing Jared.

Such unprofessional move completely set Jared off.