The Heiress's Gold-Digger

"Want to get back together? Don't even think about it! Even if you knelt down and begged me, I would never take you back!" Claire spat.

Sometimes, I truly marveled at Claire—at her boundless confidence and her shamelessness.

Not bothering to argue with her any further, I slapped my resignation letter down in front of her.

"Please sign it, Ms. Musk. Trash like me shouldn't stay in your esteemed company and offend your eyes."

…

Claire's face changed instantly, her voice turning sharp.

"You're resigning? Who gave you permission to resign? Simon, I'm warning you—if you keep putting on airs like this, there really will be no chance left between us!"

Justin glanced at me with barely concealed glee and spoke in a hypocritical tone.

"Clairebear, can't you tell? Simon is just throwing a tantrum. Someone who would lie about his own mother dying just for thirty dollars—how could he possibly bear to leave a company with benefits this good? I think he's just playing mind games, forcing you to give in first."

Claire gradually calmed down. She resumed her lofty, superior posture, her gaze filled with mockery and disdain.

"Simon, I never imagined you could be this calculating—cursing your own mother for money. Are you even human?"

I could endure anything she said—except when she spoke of my mother.

"Claire, shut up! What right do you have to talk about my mother?"

If it weren't for her, how would I have missed seeing my mother one last time?

"Simon, why are you shouting? After all these years in the company, which promotion didn't come from me pulling strings for you? You should be grateful, yet you dare speak to me like this!"

Promotion? She actually had the nerve to talk about promotion.

In seven years at the company, I had been the top performer every single year, bringing in profits of almost a billion. Yet, I had remained nothing more than a project manager.

Meanwhile, Justin—who did nothing but loaf around—had sailed smoothly upward, even reaching the position of vice president.

Whose handiwork that was needed no explanation.

"Claire, do you really think I'm some ignorant fool?

"Fine. Since you say everything I have today comes from your generosity, then explain this to everyone—your so-called promotion means withholding my year-end bonus, transferring my achievements to Justin, and even taking the car the company rewarded me with to give to him. Is that right?"

Only then did Claire notice the crowd of onlookers that had gathered outside the door without anyone realizing when.

Her face turned ugly at once, tinged with the embarrassment of having her schemes exposed in public.

"What nonsense are you talking about? You only need an hour to commute every day—you don't need a car at all. That's why I stepped in to refuse it for you! And besides, that car was donated to charity. It was never given to Justin!"

Justin hurried to echo her words.

"Exactly. Don't pin all your filth on us. Do you think everyone is as poor as you? That car wasn't worth much anyway. I wouldn't take it even if it were given to me for free!"

After speaking, he smugly glanced around, expecting flattery and agreement.

Instead, most of the people present were ordinary salaried employees, and his words only stirred resentment.

"What does he mean by 'poor'? Didn't he say that car wasn't worth anything? But the one he posted on his social media is clearly the same car the company was going to reward Simon with!

"Simon is so pitiful. If his car hadn't been taken away, how could he have missed seeing his mother one last time when she died?"