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The CEO fired me live on stream while 50,000 people watched, telling me to clear my desk in thirty minutes and warning that anything left behind would become company property, as if every product launch, client save, crisis fix, and idea he had claimed as his own had always belonged to him. Everyone waited for me to break, but I only placed my badge on the desk, wished the company success, and left with one small box in the rain. That night, while Preston begged for a private breakfast to fix his very public mistake, the chairman called from Singapore after seeing the shareholder registry—and by the time the emergency board meeting began, Preston’s face had already gone white…

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investor calls. Preston Vale knew how to appear expensive. Even through a webcam, every detail worked in his favor: the tailored charcoal suit, the pale blue shirt, the silver watch positioned just low enough on his wrist to catch the light, the Seattle skyline behind him blurred by rain against the glass, and that calm, polished smile that made cruelty continue reading …

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