The Promotion Built on My Broken Hands

"Besides, to you, it's just one lost championship. It's not a big deal. But for Sophie, this competition is crucial.

"You've won the design championship so many times. It's time to make room for younger talent, isn't it?

"They're the future of this company. I'm thinking about the company. Stop being so unreasonable."

After saying that, he shoved me aside, opened the drawer, and took my design files.

The force sent me crashing to the floor, fracturing my already injured hands a second time.

I looked down at my arms wrapped in bandages and gave a bitter laugh.

I had fought for the championship year after year only to raise my value, negotiate with the board chair, and secure Marcus's promotion.

Now he was accusing me of being selfish.

The department employees saw what happened and immediately joined in, scolding me without caring who was right or wrong.

"An ungrateful person like her isn't worth another word."

"Exactly. She only cares about herself. As long as she's here, no one else in the department will ever get a chance."

"Anyone who damages team unity should be pushed out of the company."

Someone picked up a broom and swept it aggressively near my feet, as though they meant to drive me out right there.

I was about to speak when someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled and almost fell.

The movement pulled at both injured hands, and a piercing pain shot through me.

I clenched my teeth, cold sweat breaking across my back.

Seeing sweat bead across my forehead, Marcus finally spoke up.

"Enough. Stop messing around.

"Her hands are broken. She's still a patient. The competition is over anyway. Everyone say less.

"Don't talk about firing her again. If she can give up one competition slot, she can give up a second. That's good for everyone in the department."

On the surface, Marcus was defending me.

In truth, he had just handed the department a reason to hurt me again.

If my hands kept being injured before competitions, someone else could always replace me.

Then they would not have to work hard to earn a slot, nor resent me for winning every year.

Marcus could use that to win loyalty and establish his authority.

What a clever calculation.

The fake concern on his face only made my heart colder. I no longer wanted to argue.

The pain in my arms reminded me that if I delayed treatment any longer, my hands might never heal properly.

But when I turned my head, I saw the usually proud Marcus personally pouring tea for Sophie.

He peeled an apple for her, then carved the pieces into little rabbits before handing them over.

The people around them immediately exchanged knowing looks.

Sophie blushed and said, "Don't look at me like that. He's only taking care of a junior designer."

That was what she said, but everyone around her smirked with obvious understanding.

The sight pressed against my chest until even breathing felt difficult.

I had no desire to keep watching. Under the strange gazes of the crowd, I fled the office.