Dumped Over Status, Crowned CEO Before Their Eyes

Just as relief washed over me and I was about to turn and leave, a sharp, mocking voice sliced through the air behind me.

“Hold it! Did you mess with my delivery?!”

I turned around, startled. Our delivery packages all came with sealed stickers; how could I possibly have touched anything?

She snatched the bag, scrunched her nose and leaned in to sniff it.

“What’s that smell?”

She waved a hand in front of her face, grimacing as if the bag reeked of something foul.

“This packaging is a disaster; it all smells like one big mess!”

An older woman standing nearby chimed in.

“Yeah, Sister Corinne, these takeouts nowadays are so questionable when it comes to hygiene. Who knows if these delivery workers are carrying something…”

I sneered inwardly. I had packed that meal with my own hands, every container sealed and placed carefully inside an insulated bag, how could the smells have possibly mixed?

“Auntie, our packaging follows proper standards. If you check the seals—”

“Check what?”

She cut me off rudely and then began tearing open the bag.

“I’ve got a sensitive stomach. If I get sick from this, are you going to take responsibility?”

One by one, she pulled the containers out and placed them on a stone bench nearby.

Under the sunlight, the braised pork shimmered with a glossy sheen, while the greens looked fresh and crisp.

“Oh? This portion doesn’t look right.” She picked up the rice container and weighed it in her hand.

“Why does it feel lighter? Did you help yourself to some along the way?”

I took a deep breath, forcing down the fire rising in my chest.

"Auntie, we have surveillance on every order. The portions are standard. And riders like us—"

"Rules?" she cut me off with a sneer. "Can you eat rules?"

"I bet none of you in this job are clean! You all look messy, hanging around the entrance like strays, absolute disgrace!"

"Auntie, if you have concerns about the food, you can file a complaint through the app or reach out to the restaurant directly."

I kept my voice steady, even though my fingers clenched tightly at my sides.

"If you believe the portion is wrong, I can take a photo and report it."

"Report it? I want a refund!"

"I’m reporting you! You’ve got a terrible attitude! You stole food! I’ll make sure you lose your job!"

Her spit flew as she raged, the wrinkles on her face twitching with excitement.

By now, a small crowd had formed around us.

I could feel their eyes, hear the murmurs.

"…young people these days…"

"…can’t even deliver food properly…"

I slowly relaxed my fists and adjusted the bodycam clipped to my chest. It was meant to record the process, but now it is serving a greater purpose.

"Auntie, everything you just said has been recorded."

"As for the refund and complaint, I’ll file it according to company policy. If you have further concerns..."

She clearly hadn’t expected my composure. Her eyes widened, then burned with fresh anger.

"You’re recording me? What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me now?"

"It’s not a threat. It’s protocol." I met her gaze and said it word by word.

My stare rattled her, but she still refused to back down.

"I’d love to see what you can do! Get out of here! You’re an eyesore!"

She waved me off like I was something beneath her.

Meanwhile, my phone kept vibrating with late delivery alerts. The next order was already at risk.

I didn’t have time to argue. I turned and walked away.

Behind me, her shrill voice rang out one last time.

“What kind of person is that? I must’ve hit the nail on the head!”