When I Don't Get the Rewards I Deserve

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch.

At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus.

"You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more."

I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?"

But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty.

"Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!"

As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her.

She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company.

I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

Stacie Woodward's words had barely left her mouth when I knocked over my wine glass right there and then.

Her expression darkened at once. "It's such a wonderful day, and you just have to ruin it for me, don't you?

"Your dad's condition has been the same for years. He's managed with cheap meds, why can't it stay that way?

"Stop being so selfish, Reuben Holt. Do you think my money grows on trees?"

With that, she shoved a few discount coupons straight down my collar. "Today's Tory's celebration party, so I suggest you don't start trouble. Now, apologize to him, give him a toast, and we'll forget this ever happened."

I almost laughed at the absurdity of her words and grabbed her wrist tight. "I wrote the algorithm and every line of code in the app by pulling all-nighters.

"Tory's just a PR manager who doesn't know anything about tech development, yet you're making me apologize to him. He isn't even worthy of my apology."

The next second, Stacie slapped me hard across the face. "Shut up!

"Even if Tory didn't code, he put in the work by managing connections and protecting Frostward Corporation's image. That takes hard work!

"You have no idea how much publicity and effort he poured into getting the app launched."

She raised her hand to strike again, but Tory Frost rushed over and caught her arm. "Calm down, Stacie. Reuben isn't entirely wrong either… In his eyes, I guess a small PR manager like me can't compare to a core tech guy like him.

"You should take this one million dollars back. Consider it an early birthday gift from me."

Stacie was visibly moved by his words. She took his hand and intertwined their fingers. "Don't worry, Tory. No one can take away what's yours."

She turned and gave me a sidelong look before sarcastically continuing, "See? That's what real class looks like.

"He's always thinking about giving me gifts and money, be they big or small, unlike some people who only know how to reach out and ask me for cash.

"Tory's your junior, Reuben. How can two students from the same college turn out to be so different? You're nowhere near as driven or considerate as he is."