“You hitting someone just made everything worse, Conley. Apologize to Tyron right now and pay over ten grand for emotional damages, and then maybe we’ll consider this matter settled.”

I couldn’t help but laugh and stare straight at my boss.

“Sir… you seriously want me to apologize and pay him?”

Rayner’s face darkened, unreadable, while Lilla yanked at my sleeve.

She hissed, “Conley, don’t be an idiot. Tyron is Thelma Appleton’s son. You can’t afford to cross him. Sir Rayner is still counting on him to close the Aptivion deal.”

I couldn’t help but snort in bitterness.

“He says his mother is Thelma Appleton and you all just believe him? Did he even show proof when he joined?”

Lilla pulled out her phone, scrolling to Tyron’s Facebook.

“It’s legit. First day, Mrs. Appleton drove him here personally.”

I stared at the figures in the photo and almost dropped my jaw.

My goddess-level flawless aunt—standing there looking sharp in front of a luxury car—and next to her… was really Tyron.

Tyron even captioned the photo.

[Thanks, Mom, for taking time from your busy schedule to drop me off for my internship. I won’t let you down.]

I immediately dialed my aunt, but all I got was the mechanical message saying her phone was powered off.

Seeing that I refused to apologize, Tyron shot me a vicious look.

“Boy, don’t regret this. I’ll make sure you pay for it.”

The next day… he really did make me pay.

At the awards ceremony, the top sales trophy that was supposed to be mine—along with the 500,000 dollar bonus—were somehow handed to Tyron.

They didn’t even have time to swap out my name on the PPT slide for the acceptance speech.

It was a straight-up daylight robbery. A surge of anger quickly burned through my chest.

I spoke up on the spot.

“What were the criteria for choosing the top salesperson? This month, my projects brought in over one billion in total sales and generated tens of millions in profit. I’m five million in profit ahead of second place. Meanwhile, Tyron hasn’t closed a single deal. So I’m asking all the executives here—on what basis does he get my award?”

The hall fell completely silent.

The CFO and sales director exchanged glances, but neither dared breathe.

Tyron looked at me with pure arrogance.

“Obviously, your projects weren’t clean. The company can’t condone your kind.

“Right now, we’re only stripping your top salesperson title. Keep playing these dirty games, wrecking the company’s rep… and next up? Termination.”

I was shaking with fury, my eyes scanning the stage.

All those executives who once praised my remarkable performance, called me promising talent… were all avoiding my gaze, heads lowered like spineless cowards.

I had no choice but to turn to the CEO.

“Sir… is that your take, too?”

Being called out publicly clearly pissed him off. He frowned, annoyed.

“Conley, the company has its considerations. Don’t let this small thing ruin the ceremony. Look at the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture?” My eyes were flames, my voice raw.

“The bigger picture? I grind all year—no days off, midnight nights, my back broken on these projects… just for my work to be handed to someone else?

“One baseless rumor wipes out every damn thing I’ve done, and you all stand there? Doing nothing?

“Tell me—where’s fairness? Where’s justice? Do you feel nothing treating someone who’s carried this company like this?”

Rayner was completely speechless, but Tyron didn’t show the slightest shame. Dude even lifted his chin at me.

“Fairness?” He let out a mocking laugh. “Boy, don’t be naïve. In this world, fairness belongs to whoever holds the power.”

“You want justice so damn bad? Then go get yourself a rich mother to fight your battles. Oh wait—right. You don’t have one.”

Tyron didn’t even bother hiding the contempt on his face. He looked at me coldly and said, “Me? I’m Thelma Appleton’s son—the CEO of Aptivion Group. My status alone is enough to crush you for the rest of your life.”

I stared straight at him, genuinely wondering where this guy got the balls for that kind of confidence.

Hell, for a second I even started doubting my aunt—did she really sneak around and pop out some secret kid behind the family’s backs?

Then, I asked, “I heard Mrs. Appleton has a nephew she treats like her own son. Tell me, ‘top salesperson,’ have you actually met him?”

Tyron’s face froze. Then he clicked his tongue and shot me a dismissive look.

“That’s my cousin. Of course, I’ve met him. But he’s been overseas for years. He barely comes home. Even I hardly see him, so a nobody like you? Don’t even dream about it.”

I chuckled. “Is that so? If he’s not low-class, then why’d someone steal another man’s top-sales title and bonus? Don’t tell me you’re not a real Appleton.”

“Son of a—!” Tyron’s face went dark, his eyes filled with rage. Tyron’s face went dark, rage twisting his features.

“I’m telling you, Conley. Don’t push your luck. Your title was revoked because you didn’t deserve it. I earned mine with real skills!”

“With skills?” I stepped forward, staring straight at him. “You mean the skill to slack off and play games every day at work? Or the skill to take two-hour lunch breaks and clock out right at five?”

“Or maybe,” I added slowly, “the skill to stare at your computer all day and only type the word ‘Proposal’ on a PowerPoint slide?”

I wasn’t talking fast, but every word landed hard.

His mouth moved, but nothing came out. He just flicked his eyes toward our boss in desperation.

Rayner’s face twisted with disappointment—like Tyron had embarrassed him by being useless. Then he turned to me, his voice cold.

“Conley. Watch your tone. This is a company, not a street corner. You don’t get to yell as you please!

“Just because you won a few projects before doesn’t mean you get to be untouchable. Survival of the fittest—you were replaced by someone better. You need to accept that. Stop making trouble!”

Everyone turned to look at me, waiting to see how big of a fool I’d make of myself for a five-hundred-thousand bonus.

Five hundred thousand?

Five million wouldn’t even interest me.

What I wanted was fairness.

I didn’t get angry. I didn’t argue. I just let out a cold, mocking laugh.

“Fine. I accept it. The top salesperson title should go to someone ‘more capable.’”

The moment I sat back at my desk, HR blasted out two announcements.

[Our employee, Conley Myntti, has misused company funds for excessive dining, severely violating company policy. Effective immediately, he is removed from the Sales Manager position and suspended for reflection.]

[Our intern Tyron Appleton, who has ‘bravely defended company interests’ and shown ‘outstanding performance’—creating massive profits—is now hired full-time. He will take over the Sales Manager position and all ongoing projects.]

Right after that, the CEO mentioned me in the group chat.

[@Conley, due to your wastefulness and disregard for company rules, your monthly bonus is deducted. Write a 10,000-word self-criticism and post it in the group chat for everyone to learn from!]

Unbelievable.

They stripped my title, cut my bonus, turned me into a public example, threw me onto a sacrificial altar—using my humiliation to flex their power.

The group immediately fell silent. Even the whole office went dead quiet.

Everyone’s eyes drifted toward me—some sympathetic, some angry, some gloating.

The message just sat there, unmoving, like everyone was waiting for me to swallow my pride and apologize in the group chat.

Then Rayner mentioned my name again.

[@Conley. Did you not see it?】

I still didn’t respond.

He kept tagging me like a madman.

Then Lilla sent me a private message.

[Hey, don’t be stubborn. Just bend a little. Your job matters more.]

I looked at her and gave a small smile, and somehow that smile brought out a few tears.

My stiff fingers tapped on my phone as I typed back, my hands shaking a little.

[Got it, sir. I’ll remember this lesson. I will never again order a 40-dollar dessert and “splurge” and “waste company resources.” Next time at the company dinner, I’ll just drink water and skip the food.]

On the surface, it looked like an apology, but the message was basically a drop of water landing in hot oil.

Anyone could see it for what it was—an employee’s quiet, blunt disappointment in his own company.

Right after sending it, I logged out of every company system and took my mandatory “self-reflection suspension” exactly as instructed.

Rayner, sticking relentlessly to his “stay in your lane” mantra, shoved me into a workstation next to the bathroom—where I had to deal with coworkers walking by all day, some giving me half-interested disdain, others giving pitying looks I didn’t need.

Meanwhile, Tyron parked himself proudly at my old desk, barking orders at the department like he was suddenly in charge.

But my seat wasn’t something you could just slide into and fake your way through.

Every project before this—I handled myself. From design to production, I knew every piece of it.

Tyron? That rookie didn’t know a damn thing.

Within a few days, more than ten clients complained. They demanded I return to take over their accounts, or they’d cancel the contracts outright.

The company was about to face massive compensation fees.

Rayner finally couldn’t hold it together. He swallowed his pride and walked over to my exile of a workstation.

“Conley, these projects were yours. Now there are technical issues. Go deal with them. Make sure the Chevrolets are satisfied.”

I raised my head slowly, giving him a blank look.

“Sir, did you get the wrong person? I’m suspended, remember?”

He froze for a second, then forced out, stiff as iron, “Even during suspension, you still work. Company rules—you start a project, you finish it.”

I opened my hands. “But I already logged out of everything. I can’t access a single thing to follow up.”

His face tightened, anger building behind his eyes.

“Suspension isn’t termination. Why did you log out? Re-apply for access. Now.”

I looked at him steadily.

“You’re the one who said ‘stay in your lane,’ sir. I’m just following leadership instructions.”

A twitch ran across his face, but he forced himself to stay composed.

“Fine. I’m restoring your position right now. Contact the clients immediately. Don’t let them terminate the contracts.”

I gave him a small smile.

“Sir, wouldn’t your star salesperson be the better choice for that? I’m just the guy who supposedly ‘relied on his face’ to get sales. I don’t have that kind of talent, remember?”

His face darkened to the color of spoiled meat, rage barely held down.

“Conley, colleagues make jokes. You actually took it seriously?”

I kept the smile, but the coldness behind it was impossible to miss.

“So stripping me of my top salesperson title and cutting my 500k bonus—was that a joke too?

“And saying a 40-dollar dish counts as ‘extravagance and waste’—was that also a joke?”

Each word hit him like a punch.

His face went from red, to pale, to a blotchy bruise-like purple.

But he said nothing. I knew he was fighting himself; admitting he was wrong wasn’t something a CEO like him could stomach.

Right then, Tyron came running over, practically buzzing.

“Sir! Aptivion finally agreed to invest!”

Rayner’s face lit up instantly with triumph.

“Excellent! Tyron, you’re a damn lucky star for this company. With Aptivion behind us, those clients will be begging to stay!”

Then he turned and gave me a venomous glare.

“Conley, you’re fired. Go process the paperwork. Now.”

I nodded calmly. “Fine. Then according to policy, I expect the company to give me the compensation I’m due.”

He snapped, shouting, “Compensation? After all the trouble you caused? Wait for our lawsuit!”

Tyron glared at me, full of spite.

“Boy, I’ll make sure you get blacklisted in this entire industry!”