The Promotion Built on My Broken Hands

My executive boyfriend, Marcus Winters, had always wanted the regional president seat. Then his favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, complained that I always got the spotlight, and he deliberately sabotaged my car. The crash broke both my hands, leaving me unable to compete in the design contest that could decide the board vote. He handed my entry slot to Sophie and expected me to accept it quietly.

When I confronted him, he said it was only one competition and that, as design director, I should give younger employees a chance. To prove his "fairness," he stripped me of my director title and docked six months of my pay to compensate the team.

Everyone waited for me to fight back.

Instead, I nodded, calm and silent.

Marcus was pleased. He promised that once his promotion came through, he would restore my position and publicly announce our relationship.

I smiled coldly and told him we were done. I had already submitted my resignation.

What Marcus did not know was that the board and I had made a private agreement: if I won the championship and secured the decisive vote, the person I named would become regional president. I had been preparing to name him.

Now he had not only replaced me with Sophie, but also encouraged her to submit a fraudulent design. Once the contest ended, the only thing waiting for him was termination, a ruined career, and a bill he could never afford.

The moment I said it, my boyfriend, Marcus Winters, slapped me twice across the face.

He frowned and snapped, "What are you making a scene for now?

"Everything I did was for your own good. And now you're using resignation to punish me?"

The sharp sound of the slap drew every eye in the room.

Marcus's favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, immediately stepped forward to defend him when she saw his expression darken.

"I honestly don't know what else you want. Marcus has already done so much for you. Why are you still not satisfied?

"If Marcus hadn't vouched for you in front of the board chair, do you think you'd still be standing here after abusing your authority and monopolizing the department's only competition slot year after year? You should know better than to be ungrateful."

Then she turned to Marcus, full of righteous anger.

"Marcus, I really don't think you should keep protecting her. Look at her face. Does she look sorry at all?

"Your kindness is completely wasted on her."

Her words were almost laughable.

Was Marcus's so-called kindness meant for me, or for her?

She knew the answer better than anyone.

Yet she had the nerve to stand there and accuse me in public.

If not for Sophie, why would Marcus have sabotaged my car just because she said, "If Julia keeps taking the spotlight every time, what about the rest of the department's rising talent?"

He caused an accident so I would break both hands and miss the competition.

Then I could only watch as he handed my place to Sophie.

That was not all. Marcus also demanded that I give Sophie my design draft so she could "study" it.

When I tried to stop him, he raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

"Julia, you're a designer. Your hands are broken now, so you can't compete. If Sophie takes your design onstage, I'm helping you. Someone else will simply accept the award for you."