The Divine Coin Toss She Fired Me, So I Made Her Empire Crumble

He turned to face the entire staff and raised his voice. "Listen up, everyone!"

"After a thorough internal investigation, the company has confirmed that Vincent Sullivan has been using psychological manipulation disguised as mystical guidance to brainwash and extort our clients."

"He has severely damaged the reputation of Delgado Group. Every single one of those contracts was obtained through superstitious nonsense and fraud."

"Therefore, his commissions are hereby confiscated in full as restitution for the damage done to the company's name."

"And that's not all. Given the harm you've caused to this organization—" Dean held up a document. "You'll also be signing this five-million-dollar claim for damages."

"Bullshit." My whole body was shaking. "Those clients were begging me to sign with them."

They'd destroyed my sacred relic. They'd seized the money meant to save my grandmother's life. And now they wanted me to pay them five million dollars?

"I want to see Beverly Delgado." I shoved Dean aside and forced my way into the CEO's office.

Beverly was sitting on the sofa, cheerfully browsing gifts for Dean.

The moment she saw me barge in, her face went cold.

"Vincent Sullivan, who gave you permission to walk in here? Do you have any sense of propriety?"

I strode over and slammed the outrageous five-million-dollar demand down on the table.

"Beverly, you'd better explain this."

I stared her down, searching for any trace of conscience left behind those eyes.

"Beverly, look me in the eye and tell me the truth."

"When your cash flow collapsed, who was it that knelt for three days and three nights before the Patron Saint to pray for your salvation?"

"Those billion-dollar contracts—who cast the sacred cups and guided you to the south side of the city to close those deals?"

"And now you burn the bridge the second you've crossed it? You let him steal my grandmother's life-saving money?" My voice cracked. "Are you even human?"

Something flickered in Beverly's eyes—just for a second—before her expression hardened into cold indifference.

"Vincent, could you please stop disgusting me with your little mystic act?"

"Those clients chose us because of our brand equity and our advanced management systems. You just happened to be there. That's all."

"You really think you're some kind of living saint? Haven't you leeched off this company long enough?"

A wave of absurdity washed over me so strong I almost laughed.

For years, every time Beverly hit a dead end, she'd come to me with flushed cheeks and desperate reverence, begging me to cast the sacred cups and divine a way out. When she needed me, I was a god. When she didn't, suddenly she wanted to talk about science and rationality.

"Bev, look at him." Dean sauntered over and wrapped his arm around Beverly's waist. "You've already exposed him and he's still running his mouth."

He smiled. "Why don't we call Manager Lambert and the others in for a little face-to-face? That way he can't accuse us of ganging up on him."

Beverly pressed the intercom button without hesitation.

Less than two minutes later, Manager Lambert walked in with a handful of senior employees trailing behind him.

The moment I saw Lambert, a spark of hope lit in my chest.

Two years ago, he'd been framed with tens of millions in bad debt. He'd been so desperate he was standing on the rooftop, ready to jump. I was the one who cast the cups and unraveled the scheme within the scheme, saving his life and his family.

The others owed me too. I'd guided them to the right clients, the right neighborhoods, the right deals. They'd bought homes and cars in the Capital, put down roots—all because of my counsel.

I thought at least one of them would speak up for me.

Lambert didn't even hesitate. He walked through the door, jabbed a finger in my face, and erupted with righteous fury.

"Ms. Delgado, Director Cooley is absolutely right!"

"Vincent Sullivan didn't just peddle superstitious nonsense in the office—he forced us to buy his Protection Charms at outrageous prices!"

"And if we refused, he'd pull his mystical intimidation routine, spiritual bullying pure and simple. We were too afraid to speak up!"

I stood frozen. "Lambert, you..."

Then a woman stepped forward—someone I'd once guided away from a route that would have put her in a fatal car wreck. She piled on without blinking.

"That's right. And those big contracts of his weren't clean, either. I saw him with my own eyes, meeting a female client at a hotel in the middle of the night."