Chapter 1

Walking past the stairwell, I overheard two interns whispering about their salaries.

"Take a guess, what did I get? $85,000!"

"Not bad! I just cleared $75,000."

I froze in my tracks.

I have been at this company for exactly seven years.

My first year, my starting salary was $35,000.

My second year, it bumped to $36,000. The boss called it an "exceptional exception."

My third year, I started leading teams independently. My salary went to $39,000.

Years four, five, and six... my salary didn't budge a single cent.

During that time, I personally closed eight major enterprise contracts for the company.

This year, my seventh year, the boss said the macroeconomic environment was tough, and my salary was cut to $36,000.

Those two new hires, the ones I personally trained, were making more than double what I was making after seven years of bleeding for this place.

I let out a bitter laugh and walked straight to the HR Director's office to hand in my resignation.

The HR Director, Brenda, looked shocked. "Why?"

"The pay is low, and I'm not happy."

Brenda sighed, her tone heavy with manufactured grief. "Chloe, I know you've worked hard these past few years. But the company has its struggles too. The market is brutal right now. Just surviving is an achievement. You’re a veteran here; you, of all people, should be more understanding."

"I've been understanding for seven years," I said.

"Look, we have a performance review cycle coming up at the beginning of next year..."

"Brenda," I cut her off. "Do you remember the Smart City project I spearheaded independently last year? The one that secured a $4 million municipal contract for us? Do you remember what my project bonus was?"

Brenda's smile stiffened.

For that project, I walked out of this building at 2:00 AM for three weeks straight.

After the fortieth revision of the UI/UX mockups, I was slumped over my desk, sweating cold bullets from stress-induced stomach cramps.

At the celebration dinner, the CEO, Mr. Sterling, raised a glass and said, "Chloe was instrumental."

What actually hit my bank account was zero. What I got was a company-wide email saying "Good job."

"The company has to look at the big picture with compensation," Brenda said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Besides, didn't you win Employee of the Year? The recognition is more important than the money."

"It's been seven years, Brenda."

I stared dead at her.

"In seven years, I have trained batch after batch of new hires. I manage eight core projects. I make $36,000. The girl who just converted to full-time today—the one I literally held by the hand to teach her our software and how to talk to developers—makes $75,000."

"For seven years, every time you dumped more work on my plate, you called it a 'growth opportunity.' I’ve grown enough. Every raise I ever got was the bare corporate minimum, and this year, you actually cut my pay!"

"Brenda, let's stop talking in circles. My demand is very simple."

I looked her right in the eye.

"I quit."

Brenda's face darkened. "The company invested seven years into developing you. You can't just walk away on a whim. You need to have some professional ethics."

"Professional ethics." I repeated those two words and suddenly laughed.

Before Christmas my third year, to hit a project milestone, I canceled my flight home to see my family.

I worked through Christmas Eve in the empty office until 3:00 AM. In the Uber ride home, I got a text from Mr. Sterling: "Hard work pays off. We'll bump your pay in the new year."

That "new year" never came.

"Brenda," I stood up. "In seven years, I have never left this office before 10:00 PM. I am on call every single weekend. Three of my core designs are used in the company’s flagship marketing materials, and my name isn't on a single one of them."

I enunciated every word. "So, before we talk about my professional ethics, tell me: has this company ever shown any to me?"

Brenda's face turned completely hostile. "You can't look at it like that. The company gave you a platform. We gave you the chance to touch massive projects. Your current skills, your resume—didn't you accumulate all of that here? People need to know how to be grateful."

Looking at her, everything suddenly felt incredibly pathetic.

The rookie I painstakingly trained was instantly handed double my salary.

I worked myself to the bone, did three people's jobs with zero overtime pay, and in seven years, my total raise amounted to $3,000 a year.

And now, with one sentence about "providing a platform," my seven years of blood and sweat were supposed to be dismissed as a joke?

"I understand."

"Thank you, Brenda."

I straightened my back, turned around, and walked out.

Thank you for making me realize that this company has been dead to me for a long time.

I went to the restroom to splash cold water on my face and calm down.

Walking past Mr. Sterling's office, I heard the voice of the newly converted intern, Mia, coming from inside.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sterling. I've got the Smart City project completely sorted. Chloe walked me through everything last week."

"Good, you've got natural talent, Mia." I could hear Sterling patting her shoulder. "Keep it up. Next year, we'll try to get you leading your own team."

I didn't care. I just kept walking.

"Thank you, Mr. Sterling!" Mia's voice went up an octave, then immediately dropped into a whisper. "But... I think I just heard that my mentor went to HR. She said she's quitting."

A burst of laughter erupted from Sterling's office.

My footsteps stopped.

"Her?" Sterling sneered. "She's got a mortgage, a car loan, and her kid's daycare tuition is due next month. You think she actually has the guts to walk?"

Every single word felt like a knife twisting into my ribs.

My college roommates and classmates were all VPs or Directors by now.

I was the only one guarding my pathetic $36,000 salary for seven years.

I thought, at the very least, the boss appreciated my loyalty.

But instead.

Heh.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

I kept listening.

"She's just throwing a tantrum because her pay got docked a few hundred bucks," Sterling said casually. "She wants to play games with me? Let her freeze out there for a few days. She'll come crawling back like a good dog. At her age, with her financial baggage, where else is she going to find a stable job?"

Mia immediately chimed in. "Right, exactly! Chloe is probably just stressed out! There's no way she'd actually quit."

Sterling agreed.

"But you're different, Mia. You're young. You don't have baggage."

His tone shifted, sounding deep and fatherly. "Stick with me, learn the ropes, and the company won't mistreat you."

I walked into the restroom, my entire body freezing cold.

So, my seven years of sacrifice, the painkillers I swallowed dry while working through stomach cramps, the eight enterprise contracts I secured... in their eyes, it was all just leverage to be measured and exploited.

Because I wasn't in my twenties anymore.

Because I had a mortgage and a car loan.

Because my burdens were heavy, I had become a cheap, disposable toy they could treat however they wanted.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out mechanically. It was a LinkedIn connection request with a note:

[Executive Recruiter - Cathy]

"Hi Chloe, I've been following your exceptional design portfolio. Currently, a Tier-1 tech giant is doing an emergency search for a Principal Design Expert to lead their core product line. The compensation package is $150,000 base. I'd love to chat."

Below the note was the company name: Horizon Tech. Top 3 in the industry, famous for its aggressive compensation packages. They were also our company's biggest rival, the one we constantly tried to benchmark against and constantly lost to.

I stared at the number: $150,000.

Leaning against the bathroom stall door, I suddenly started laughing. A low, quiet laugh.

One year at Horizon was equivalent to my total earnings for the last four years here combined.

I remembered my first year at this company.

At the end of the year, Sterling patted my shoulder. "Chloe, the raise budget is tight this year, we have to take care of the senior staff first. Next year! I promise I'll get you a bump next year!"

At the year-three project celebration, he raised a glass in front of our biggest client. "This is our lead designer! A brilliant future ahead of her!"

After the dinner, he pulled me aside. "The bonuses have to go to the sales team this quarter; they grind hard for those quotas. But I haven't forgotten your contribution. When we close our next funding round, you are definitely getting equity."

That "next funding round" he promised took until last month to finally close their Series A.

In year five, when I told him managing the teams was burning me out, Sterling called me into his office and poured me expensive tea.

"Being tired means the company relies on you. Putting you in this position is the highest form of recognition. Salary is just a fixed number, but the influence of your title is limitless. Once you train two more solid juniors, I will personally request a Director title for you."

The tea smelled wonderful. The promises sounded beautiful.

I believed him. And I worked even harder, bleeding myself dry to train rookies and take on more projects.

But last week, Sterling frowned at me and said, "The macro economy is bad. We have to dock your pay by $3,000 a year. Once revenues pick up, I'll pay you back immediately!"

Out of blind loyalty to the company, I compromised. Again.

Until today, when I heard him casually tell an intern: "Let her freeze for a few days. She'll come crawling back like a good dog."

I finally understood. Sterling never believed I would leave.

In his eyes, I was just an incredibly high-ROI piece of equipment.

But he forgot one thing. I am a human being. A living, breathing human. Not a machine.

I looked down, accepted the connection request, and typed my reply:

[Extremely interested! Looking forward to connecting!]

Right after I sent the message, a notification popped up in the 200-person company Slack channel. Sterling tagged me:

"@Chloe The client is very unhappy with this mockup. How did you approve this? You cannot let your personal emotional issues impact the quality of your work!"

I stared at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Over the last seven years, I had been publicly tagged like this countless times. Every single time, I instantly jumped in to explain, apologize, and promise immediate revisions.

But this time, I didn't.

I sent a private DM to Mia: "The mockup Sterling is asking about is the final version you were in charge of revising and finalizing. Please compile your revision history and client communication logs and reply to Sterling directly."

I waited a long time. Mia didn't reply.

Instead, I got a DM from Sterling: [Come to my office. Now.]

I pushed the door open and walked in.

Sterling pointed to the chair across his massive desk. "Sit."

I didn't move.

"Mr. Sterling, if you have something to say, please say it."

"Chloe,"

He sighed, his voice dropping into a solemn register. "Brenda told me what you're thinking. And frankly, I'm heartbroken."

"You are a veteran here. A core pillar. We've weathered so many storms together over the years."

"I know you probably feel wronged. But you have to understand, managing a company requires balancing a hundred different things. I have a ledger in my heart for your value. It can't just be measured in dollars and cents."

"Then what is it measured in?"

I asked him.

He choked on his words for a second, but quickly recovered. "Influence! Clout! Look at you! You're managing eight core projects and mentoring two juniors. Nobody else in the design department has that kind of authority! That is the company's trust and reliance in you!"

"So, trust and reliance are worth $3,000 a month?"

My voice was perfectly steady.

So steady it surprised even me.

Sterling fell silent for a moment. "Alright, look. I'll go talk to Brenda. We won't dock your pay this cycle!"

His tone was filled with grand generosity, as if he were bestowing a royal pardon.

"I'll pretend you never brought up resigning. We both take a step back."

"Mr. Sterling," I raised my eyes, my gaze perfectly calm. "Mia—the intern I literally taught how to draw wireframes last month—converted to full-time today. Her salary is $75,000."

Sterling's tone instantly turned impatient. "You can't calculate salaries like that! She's a new grad, that's just the market rate for recruitment right now! You're a veteran. The company invested in training you, the platform gave you opportunities—how are you not calculating those hidden costs? How can you possibly compare yourself to her?"

"Hidden costs."

I chewed on the phrase. It tasted like pure irony.

"The profit margins from the projects I secured, the communication costs I minimized, the thousands of hours I spent training your new hires... shouldn't those be calculated as my 'hidden value'?"

Sterling's face turned completely dark. "If you drop everything and walk out now, projects will fail, and clients will leave. Who is going to take responsibility for that? Where are your professional ethics? Do you not care about your reputation in this industry?"

"Let me be very clear with you. The company can absolutely enforce your contract and make sure you never find work in this town again!"

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned the screen toward him.

"Mr. Sterling," my voice was ice-cold. "This is a log of every project file and client communication record I have handled over the last seven years. All my deliverables will be categorized, documented, and handed over perfectly."

Sterling flew into a humiliated rage. "The company gave you a platform to grow, and you don't have a shred of gratitude? Now you're threatening me? Who do you think you are? The company will keep spinning just fine without you! You're throwing a tantrum with me? Let me tell you, that garbage doesn't work in my office!"

"Fine! You think you're underpaid? Here, I'll bump you to $40,000!" He held up a single finger. "But you have to guarantee you will perfectly execute the backend work for the massive projects coming up next year. If you agree, I'll pretend this conversation never happened!"

My second raise in seven years. And it still wasn't even half of what the intern was making.

I let out a cold laugh. He genuinely still believed I was just using this as a negotiation tactic to squeeze a few extra bucks out of him.

I stood up. "Alright, Mr. Sterling. I absolutely will not let you down."

The eight massive enterprise contracts I had personally secured? Sterling had never actually read the fine print.

The contracts explicitly stated that the Lead Architect must be Chloe Davis. Unilateral reassignment of the Lead Architect was grounds for immediate contract termination and massive financial penalties.

Didn't he say the company would keep spinning just fine without me?

Then let's wait and see.

I really wanted to see exactly how his company would spin without me.

That night, I finalized my compensation package and my post-holiday start date with Horizon Tech.

The next day was the company's annual gala. It was incredibly lavish. Since the Series A funding had just closed, it was held at a five-star hotel downtown.

The project managers for the eight massive enterprise contracts were sitting in the front rows. Sterling stood on the stage, his face flushed with alcohol and pride, giving a grand speech about our future blueprint.

The main event was the annual bonus distribution.

In previous years, Sterling would personally hand out red envelopes with cash and say a few words of encouragement.

This year, he wanted to be "tech-forward." He used a digital lottery spinner on the massive LED screen. The winner would come up, and he would personally present a "Special Surprise."

Names rolled across the screen.

Kevin from Engineering: $10,000!

Sarah from Operations: $8,000!

The Sales Director: $30,000!

The crowd erupted in waves of cheering.

The screen stopped.

This time, it was my name.

Every single eye in the ballroom turned to me.

By now, everyone knew I had submitted my resignation.

Sterling stood on the stage, holding the microphone, a deeply loaded smirk on his face. "Let's congratulate Chloe Davis! A decorated veteran of our company! Come on up!"

Sterling didn't grab a red envelope. From a silver tray held by the MC, he pinched something between two fingers and held it up to the microphone.

It was a single, silver quarter.

The entire ballroom went dead silent.

Sterling held the quarter out to me, his voice booming through the speakers into every corner of the room. "Chloe. Even though the company secured funding this year, we still need to grind hard and stay hungry. Your situation is... special. This dedicated, heartfelt annual bonus represents the company's true feelings for you. Cherish it. And stop throwing emotional tantrums over every little thing."

He was testing my absolute bottom line. He wanted to see if I would swallow this bitter pill in silence, cementing my own worthlessness and humiliation in front of the entire company.

If I accepted this, no matter how hard I worked in the future, he could always use the shame of today to keep his boot firmly on my neck.

I could feel hundreds of stares stabbing into my back like needles.

Shock, anticipation, and the thrill of watching a car crash.

I reached out and took the quarter.

"Thank you, Mr. Sterling."

I smiled. My voice was unexpectedly, unnervingly calm.

"I have received the company's true feelings."

"And taking advantage of this moment, I also have some happy news to announce to everyone. Which is—I resign."

"I will be joining Horizon Tech after the holidays. All my handover documentation is complete. From this exact second forward, I have absolutely zero ties to this company."

"I wish you all the best of luck!"

The moment the words left my mouth, the faces of the eight project managers in the front row turned a sickly, pale white.

The ballroom exploded.

Suppressed gasps and the sound of hundreds of people sharply inhaling.

"Mr. Sterling!!" The Project Manager for Account B shrieked, his voice piercing through the chaos. "She can't leave! Appendix 3 of our contract explicitly states the Lead Architect must be Chloe Davis! If you unilaterally replace her, the client has the legal right to terminate the partnership and sue for damages!"

"And what about the Koda Group bid?!" Project Manager C roared at Sterling. "The final proposal is due tomorrow morning! The entire bid package uses Chloe's resume and portfolio as our core competency proof! She is our exclusive designated Design Lead! If you swap her out now, the bid is instantly voided! How are you going to pay for that loss?!"