"Ms. Floyd, I'm grooming you like my own little sister. I take you on business trips to learn on the company's dime. Haven't I brought you to every team-building event? When we go public, you get stock options. When we hire, you get management. Why are you calculating over petty short-term profits? Don't worry—follow me, and I won't treat you badly."
My nails dug into my palms.
It was always the same script.
"I understand," I said flatly.
He waved a hand, dismissing me. "Polish that copy a bit more. And work overtime tonight to finish the documents for my business trip tomorrow."
I turned on my heel and walked out.
The moment I was back at my desk, I sent Isabella Lambert my contact information.
*[Here is my number. If you have time, we can talk in detail.]*
Two years ago, fresh out of college, I knew about Isabella's company. It was a significant player locally. But back then, I believed a startup would offer me more comprehensive development.
Back then, Blake and Joanna were friendlier. The colleagues were harmonious. We really did feel like a family. I watched the company grow, pouring my sweat into every brick and beam of this place.
But now I finally understood.