His Bias, My Leap

The next moment, Andrea deliberately unclipped her badge and held it to me.

"Lisa, I've always felt like this position doesn't really belong to me. The vice president role suits you far better."

I knew she was just putting on a show, looking for a chance to humiliate me.

I wasn't about to play along. I reached out and took the badge.

"You're too nice. Thanks."

Andrea stiffened, her fingers tightening around one corner. I gave it a couple of tugs, but she wouldn't let go.

We were locked in that awkward struggle when her ear flicked. Hearing footsteps approaching, she released it instantly.

In the same breath, she snatched the glass of water off the desk, dumped it over her own head, and collapsed to the floor. Tears welled up as she looked at me helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Woolery. If you want the vice president position, I'll give it back. Why did you splash water on me?"

The acting was painfully obvious. And yet, Quinton fell for it every single time.

He didn't ask a single question. He shoved me aside and rushed to help Andrea up.

"Lisa, have you lost your mind? Andrea is an exceptional talent! What's wrong with making her vice president? And you picked on her in front of everyone? What will outsiders think of us? Apologize to her, now!"

My lower back slammed into the corner of the desk. The sharp pain drained the color from my face.

Exceptional talent, huh?

A year ago, Quinton had returned to his alma mater as a guest speaker.

Andrea had shamelessly texted him on social media afterward, claiming she had audited a few classes and counted as his junior.

He called her driven. He said that her family was poor, that she couldn't afford proper schooling, and that it wouldn't be fair to judge her education.

What he conveniently forgot was that I had also come from nothing. I clawed my way out of the mountains through studying, and only met him in college.

Before I could say a word, the room erupted. Voices piled on top of each other, all insisting I had been targeting Andrea.

Andrea sniffed quietly, her voice weak and trembling.

"Quinton, I know Lisa is upset because she doesn't want to go to Northreach. As long as she's willing to go there and help the company grow, I don't mind being picked on a little…"

Quinton sighed heavily.

"You're too soft-hearted. Lisa is only jealous of how young and capable you are."

He turned to me, his gaze icy.

"Apologize to Andrea, and make sure you mean it. Then I'll allow you to come back within a year. Otherwise, you can spend the rest of your life eating sand in Northreach."

He had forgotten how he used to cradle my face when we studied management together, praising me for being sharp and capable.

He had forgotten how I had given up my own promotion and handed him the CEO seat, how he cried as he promised to treat me well.

He always said the company needed fresh blood. So he took my accomplishments and handed them to Andrea, calling it an investment in loyalty.

Back then, I kept lying to myself, telling myself he was just ambitious.

Only now did I finally see the favoritism for what it was.

I smiled faintly, tore off my employee badge, and said calmly, "You're right. I pick on the weak, fear the powerful, and lack professional integrity. I'm clearly unfit to stay here. Whoever wants to go eat sand in Northreach's desert is welcome to do so."

With that, I picked up my cardboard box and walked out.

Behind me, Quinton snapped back to himself and barked, "Stop! I need to check what confidential materials you're taking!"

I was about to explain when he reached out, grabbed the entire box from my arms, and dumped its contents straight into the shredder.

"Everything here belongs to the company. You have no right to take anything with you. If you're leaving, then leave empty-handed."

He wanted to force me to lower my head.

What he forgot was that I had never been his subordinate.

And so, I had no intention of telling him that what he had just destroyed was the investment proposal that could have saved the company.

Back then, Andrea had miscalculated the units in a contract, costing the company more than 20 million dollars. Even after I convinced the other party to cut the penalty in half, the company's cash flow still collapsed into crisis.