Chapter 4 · The Boss Who Begged Me Back

Then, I blocked and deleted Baxter's number.

Just like that, Baxter disappeared from my world.

I changed into a long, elegant dress and headed to the hotel's rooftop restaurant. I ordered an expensive steak and the priciest bottle of wine on the menu.

I cut into the steak slowly, taking my time. I let the rich flavor of the wine linger as I sipped.

The sea breeze brushed against my face. The setting sun turned the ocean gold. The view looked like something out of a painting.

And somewhere far away, Baxter was probably living through hell.

He couldn't find me. He couldn't find the plan. And there was no way he could get into that encrypted client database.

I had built that database myself.

From the very first lead to the final contract details, it held every piece of work from the Glory Star project over the past three years.

The server was not at the company. It was hosted in a data center in Swerder.

It had multiple layers of encryption. I was the only one with the key.

I had set it up that way from the beginning to guard against internal leaks.

I had never trusted Baxter.

Now, that decision was paying off.

There was no chance the company's IT team could break through it.

My phone vibrated again. This time, it was Jeffrey.

I picked up.

His voice sounded drained, tight with stress. "Valda, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm on vacation," I said.

"The company is in chaos," he said. "Mr. Wade yelled at everyone in IT. He almost hit someone.

"They checked your computer. There's nothing there. They can't find any core files for the Glory Star project."

"I know," I said.

"Tina got called into his office," Jeffrey went on. "I heard things smashing. She was crying."

"She brought it on herself," I said.

Jeffrey hesitated, then asked, "What about Mr. Benson? He's still in the meeting room. He looks furious.

"His assistant just came in. If Mr. Benson doesn't see a satisfactory plan by six, he will hold a press conference and announce the termination of all cooperation. He will also sue us."

I glanced at my watch. It was five-thirty. Thirty minutes left.

"Valda, are you really not going to do anything?" Jeffrey's voice softened, almost pleading. "Are we really going to lose everything we worked for these past three months?"

I stayed quiet for a moment. "Jeffrey, what matters more to you, hard work or dignity?"

He didn't answer. The line went silent.

"Don't worry," I continued. "You will get what belongs to you. Every bit of it. But those who don't deserve it won't get a single extra cent."

After that, I ended the call.

I didn't want to make things harder for him. I knew he and the others were not at fault.

I only wanted to target Baxter and the people who had taken advantage of me.

I finished my steak and my wine.

Then I took out my phone and opened my email. Calmly, I wrote a new message.

The recipient was Baxter. The subject line was simple. [Final plan handover for the Glory Star project.]

The email itself was even simpler. There were three conditions.

First, he would post a public apology in the company-wide group chat, admitting fault for the one-dollar bonus incident.

Second, he would fire Tina immediately for poor performance and unethical behavior, and announce it to the entire company.

Third, he would transfer every bonus I was owed from the past three years into my personal account, totaling 1.2 million dollars.

Not one condition could be ignored.

At the end, I added one final line: [Please complete all three within ten minutes. Otherwise, you will face the consequences. Friendly reminder. It is now 5:45 PM.]

With that, I hit send.

After I finished, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

I waited. I knew he would see it.

His secretary would let him know right away.

I also knew he would be furious. To him, this would feel like humiliation.

But he had no way out.

A 900-million-dollar penalty would destroy him.

Right now, I was the only one who could change his fate.

Time passed, minute by minute.

Ten minutes went by. My phone stayed silent.

He was still hesitating. Or maybe his pride was still clinging on.

I opened my eyes. A cold edge slipped into my gaze.

It seemed I needed to push a little harder.

I pulled out another phone. This one had only a single contact saved—Webster's personal assistant.

I sent a message: [Tell Mr. Benson that the cooperation can continue. But the partner needs to change.]

After sending it, I powered the phone off and tossed it back into my bag.

Then I raised my hand slightly and called the waiter over. "Check, please."

At that exact moment, my main phone chimed. It was a new email.

I opened it. The company's finance department had transferred 1.2 million dollars into my account.

A second later, another message came in from Jeffrey.

It was a screenshot. On it was the apology Baxter had just posted in the company-wide chat. It was humiliating in every word.

Chapter 4

Then, I blocked and deleted Baxter's number.

Just like that, Baxter disappeared from my world.

I changed into a long, elegant dress and headed to the hotel's rooftop restaurant. I ordered an expensive steak and the priciest bottle of wine on the menu.

I cut into the steak slowly, taking my time. I let the rich flavor of the wine linger as I sipped.

The sea breeze brushed against my face. The setting sun turned the ocean gold. The view looked like something out of a painting.

And somewhere far away, Baxter was probably living through hell.

He couldn't find me. He couldn't find the plan. And there was no way he could get into that encrypted client database.

I had built that database myself.

From the very first lead to the final contract details, it held every piece of work from the Glory Star project over the past three years.

The server was not at the company. It was hosted in a data center in Swerder.

It had multiple layers of encryption. I was the only one with the key.

I had set it up that way from the beginning to guard against internal leaks.

I had never trusted Baxter.

Now, that decision was paying off.

There was no chance the company's IT team could break through it.

My phone vibrated again. This time, it was Jeffrey.

I picked up.

His voice sounded drained, tight with stress. "Valda, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm on vacation," I said.

"The company is in chaos," he said. "Mr. Wade yelled at everyone in IT. He almost hit someone.

"They checked your computer. There's nothing there. They can't find any core files for the Glory Star project."

"I know," I said.

"Tina got called into his office," Jeffrey went on. "I heard things smashing. She was crying."

"She brought it on herself," I said.

Jeffrey hesitated, then asked, "What about Mr. Benson? He's still in the meeting room. He looks furious.

"His assistant just came in. If Mr. Benson doesn't see a satisfactory plan by six, he will hold a press conference and announce the termination of all cooperation. He will also sue us."

I glanced at my watch. It was five-thirty. Thirty minutes left.

"Valda, are you really not going to do anything?" Jeffrey's voice softened, almost pleading. "Are we really going to lose everything we worked for these past three months?"

I stayed quiet for a moment. "Jeffrey, what matters more to you, hard work or dignity?"

He didn't answer. The line went silent.

"Don't worry," I continued. "You will get what belongs to you. Every bit of it. But those who don't deserve it won't get a single extra cent."

After that, I ended the call.

I didn't want to make things harder for him. I knew he and the others were not at fault.

I only wanted to target Baxter and the people who had taken advantage of me.

I finished my steak and my wine.

Then I took out my phone and opened my email. Calmly, I wrote a new message.

The recipient was Baxter. The subject line was simple. [Final plan handover for the Glory Star project.]

The email itself was even simpler. There were three conditions.

First, he would post a public apology in the company-wide group chat, admitting fault for the one-dollar bonus incident.

Second, he would fire Tina immediately for poor performance and unethical behavior, and announce it to the entire company.

Third, he would transfer every bonus I was owed from the past three years into my personal account, totaling 1.2 million dollars.

Not one condition could be ignored.

At the end, I added one final line: [Please complete all three within ten minutes. Otherwise, you will face the consequences. Friendly reminder. It is now 5:45 PM.]

With that, I hit send.

After I finished, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

I waited. I knew he would see it.

His secretary would let him know right away.

I also knew he would be furious. To him, this would feel like humiliation.

But he had no way out.

A 900-million-dollar penalty would destroy him.

Right now, I was the only one who could change his fate.

Time passed, minute by minute.

Ten minutes went by. My phone stayed silent.

He was still hesitating. Or maybe his pride was still clinging on.

I opened my eyes. A cold edge slipped into my gaze.

It seemed I needed to push a little harder.

I pulled out another phone. This one had only a single contact saved—Webster's personal assistant.

I sent a message: [Tell Mr. Benson that the cooperation can continue. But the partner needs to change.]

After sending it, I powered the phone off and tossed it back into my bag.

Then I raised my hand slightly and called the waiter over. "Check, please."

At that exact moment, my main phone chimed. It was a new email.

I opened it. The company's finance department had transferred 1.2 million dollars into my account.

A second later, another message came in from Jeffrey.

It was a screenshot. On it was the apology Baxter had just posted in the company-wide chat. It was humiliating in every word.