Olympia walked over and leaned down, her voice low enough that only the two of them could hear.

"Miles, don't blame me. I'm doing this for your own good. You have no idea how pathetic you've looked lately. It breaks my heart to see you like this."

Her tone was as gentle as ever.

"I know you're hurting, but you can't keep coasting on past accomplishments forever. Once you pull yourself together, things can go back to the way they were between us."

Miles lifted his head. Even now, even after everything, she was still putting on an act.

"You're stepping in as acting CTO. Can you even handle the day-to-day system maintenance?"

Olympia straightened up and shot him a look of disdain, her voice rising so the whole room could hear.

"Miles, honestly, this is exactly why you'll never be more than a worker bee. You really think this company can't function without you?"

"You think this little system of yours actually needs a senior executive to babysit it?"

She turned toward Thomas.

"Mr. Delgado outsourced it to a top-tier team ages ago. Professional work should be handled by professionals. A man with his vision isn't about to get tunnel vision over code and tech the way you do."

Thomas, meanwhile, was staring at the sliver of collarbone exposed above Olympia's blouse, his eyes greedy and unsubtle.

A chorus of agreement rippled through the conference room.

Miles glanced at the two of them, then picked up the pen and signed the penalty agreement.

"The money. Fine. I'll pay it."

He walked out of the conference room and made two phone calls.

The first was to his attorney.

"Jack Lambert, I need you to start preparing litigation materials."

The second was to his accountant.

"Rudolph Chavez, I need you to run some numbers for me."

"Calculate this: a company that used a privately developed business system, free of charge, for ten years. That system generated hundreds of millions in revenue for the company."

"How much should the system's owner charge in copyright licensing fees?"

On the third day, Miles was stopped at the front entrance of the building.

His badge wouldn't open the turnstile.

The security guard looked at him with an apologetic wince. "Mr. Gilbert, I'm sorry. Orders from above. You're not allowed inside."

Miles was reaching for his phone when Olympia emerged from the lobby.

She was wearing a brand-new Chanel suit, her makeup flawless, practically glowing.

"Miles, why are you still showing up to the office?"

She walked up to him, a note of reproach in her voice.

"Oh, right, I forgot to notify you. You're on suspension. You're not permitted to enter the office premises."

"The tech team the company hired is about to take over the systems, and frankly, I'm worried you might tamper with something out of spite. So for the time being, you can't go in."

Miles looked at her.

She glanced at him, then at the security guard, and something seemed to occur to her. She covered her mouth and laughed.

"You know what? Standing out here like this, you actually look like you'd make a pretty good security guard."

"You love slacking off, don't you? Well, this is the perfect job for you. Nice and easy, no thinking required. Just stand around, watch the door. It's practically tailor-made."

She turned to the guard beside her and asked for a spare uniform, then tossed it at Miles's feet.

"There you go. Put it on. The investment bank handling our IPO is sending people tomorrow for pre-listing due diligence. Behave yourself. Don't embarrass us."

Miles looked at the uniform on the ground. He didn't move.

Olympia didn't seem satisfied.

She pulled out her phone, aimed it at him and the crumpled uniform at his feet, and snapped a photo.

Then, right in front of him, she posted it to social media.

The caption read:

"The right person for the right job. Hopefully some people can finally figure out where they belong."

Miles watched her silhouette disappear behind the glass doors. Slowly, he bent down and picked up the uniform.

I wasn't angry.

Because I knew their reckoning wasn't far off.

I put on the uniform and stood at the company entrance.

Colleagues came and went, pointing, whispering. Some laughed. Some pitied me. Some gloated.

I ignored them all.

That night, I went home.

I opened my personal laptop and logged into the cloud server management platform for the company's systems.

Looking at the familiar backend interface on the screen, I almost laughed.

Thomas and Olympia thought that confiscating my work computer and revoking my building access would lock me out of the system?

They forgot.

The cloud servers running this entire system were leased under my own name, my own ID, my own bank account.

Root access had always been mine.

I scanned the recent system logs.

Since I'd handed over administrative control, there hadn't been a single maintenance record in the backend. Not one. They hadn't even performed the most basic data backups.

Tomorrow was the start of the long weekend.

Every year, like clockwork, the company ran a massive online flash sale for the holiday. Traffic would spike to ten times the normal volume overnight.

And they hadn't done a single thing to prepare for the surge.

I could already picture it. Servers crashing. Backend data scrambled beyond repair.

I smiled.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Olympia came by to pack her things.

She loaded her clothes, handbags, and makeup into a suitcase, one item after another. Every movement was brisk, efficient, rehearsed.

"Work is work, and personal life is personal life." I leaned against the doorframe, watching her back as she moved around the apartment. "We're supposed to get married next month. You're really moving out now?"

Olympia stopped what she was doing and turned around.

Her face wore an expression I'd never seen before. Mockery laced with pity.

"Married?"

She said it like I'd told her the funniest joke she'd ever heard.

"Miles, do you seriously still not get it?"

She walked up to me and reached out with red-lacquered nails, tracing her fingers lightly down my cheek.

"I don't feel anything for you anymore. And honestly? We're not even in the same league."

I stared at her in disbelief.

"But just a few days ago, things between us were—"

"Yeah, so what? A few days ago, I hadn't met Mr. Delgado yet."

My heart dropped like a stone.

I'd sensed it coming. But hearing it out loud still hit like a sledgehammer to the chest.

"We've been together for two years. Was all of it a lie?"

"Of course it wasn't a lie." Olympia laughed, tossing her hair back. "It's just that you introduced me to something better."

"Take a good look at yourself, Miles. Next to Thomas, you're a loser. What can you do besides scribble a few lines of code?"

"You want to know the truth? Every single date with you felt like a chore. Like dragging around a block of wood. It made me sick."

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it to the door.

"Oh, right." She paused, turning back with a dazzling smile, as if she'd just remembered something trivial. "Forgot to mention. Thomas and I set our wedding date too. Next month. Don't worry, though. You won't be getting an invitation."

The door slammed shut.

The air went still.

Without her things, the apartment felt hollowed out. On the wall, our engagement photo still hung where we'd put it together.

In the picture, I was grinning like a fool.

I slowly unclenched my fists.

So. Next month, was it?

I couldn't afford to sit around waiting for karma to do its job.

I was going to do it myself. Everything they owed me, I'd take back double.

I sat in front of the computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.

I didn't sleep all night.

I didn't sabotage the system. That would've been amateur.

All I did was add a small new feature.

A "system freeze" function.

The authority to activate and deactivate it rested with one person: me.

By the time I finished, dawn had already broken.

I took a quick shower, changed into my crisp security guard uniform, and showed up downstairs at the company right on time.

Today was the day that would decide the company's fate.

Nine a.m.

A black Mercedes S-Class pulled up in front of the building.

The doors opened, and several sharply dressed professionals stepped out.

They were the due diligence team from the underwriting firm.

Thomas Delgado and Olympia Fox, flanked by every senior executive in the company, were already waiting at the entrance.

Thomas was all smiles, radiating confidence.

Olympia clung to his arm like she owned the place, beaming as if she were the lady of the house.

"Mr. Finch, welcome, welcome! Thank you for making the trip!" Thomas strode forward and shook hands with the middle-aged man leading the group.

I sat in the security booth, watching the whole scene through the glass window. My expression was cold.

"Hey! You, the doorman!"

Olympia's shrill voice cut through the air.

"Can't you see we have important guests? Sitting in there playing on your phone? Get out here and stand at attention!"

I rose slowly, pushed open the booth door, walked to the entrance, and stood at attention.

A faint smile played at the corners of my mouth.

Come on, then.

The show was about to begin.