**Diary Entry 18th March**
*»You’re fired, you useless waste of space!»* My bosss voice echoed off the sleek white walls of the office.
He slammed a thin folder onto the polished desk, sending sheets scattering like a poorly dealt hand of cards. A few drifted lazily to the floor.
*»A whole month! A whole bloody month you wasted on this report for Sheffield Steel! And what do we have? A disaster!»*
I watched his face twist with familiar ragethe flushed neck, the bulging veins. This wasnt new. Once a week, like clockwork, hed pick a target. Today, it was me.
I stayed silent. Any word now would be petrol on the fire. Thats exactly what he wanted.
*»Nothing to say, then? I trusted you with our biggest client, and youyoure incompetent! Useless!»*
He loomed over the desk, jabbing a finger at me. The sharp, bitter notes of his expensive aftershave hung in the air.
*»I dont understand where the mistake is, Mr. Thompson. I triple-checked everything.»*
My tone was steadytoo calm, perhaps. It only infuriated him more.
*»You dont understand!»* He sneered. *»I just got off the phone with their commercial director! Theyre furious! Said our figures are a fantasy!»*
Now, *that* was interesting. There was no error in my report. Someone had altered it after Id handed it in.
*»Pack your things. I want you gone in ten minutes.»*
He turned to the window, dismissing me. His posture oozed triumphanother *»useless»* employee cast out of his perfect little world.
Slowly, I stood. Not angry, not humiliated. Just cold, clear certainty: everything was going exactly as planned.
I gathered my few belongingsnotebook, pen, purse.
Then the office door swung open without a knock.
Thompson spun around, irritation flashing. *»What the»*
The words died on his lips. His face went slack, colour draining like a receding tide.
In walked Robert. My husband. And, incidentally, the owner of the entire company.
Robert took in the mess of papers, then Thompsons stunned silence, before his gaze settled on me. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. He crossed the room, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and kissed my temple.
*»Darling, shall we go home?»*
Thompson gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. His perfect world had just cracked wide open.
*»Robert Mr. Carlisle»* he stammered, eyes darting between us.
Roberts voice was deceptively soft. *»Mr. Thompson, I see youve been making personnel changes without consulting me. Firing my best analyst?»*
The emphasis on *»my»* made Thompson flinch.
*»II didnt know Sheshes a Wilson!»*
*»My wife prefers her maiden name for professional reasons,»* Robert said smoothly, plucking a stray sheet from the floor. *»Wanted to see how things *really* worked. Without bias.»*
A glance at the numbers. *»And what an eye-opener its been. Especially regarding this report.»*
Thompson swallowed hard. The trap was snapping shut.
*»Robert, this is a misunderstanding! Her report was a disaster! Sheffield Steel called me»*
*»Really?»* Robert arched a brow. *»Funny. Their director was in *my* office twenty minutes ago. We signed an expanded contract over coffee.»*
He let that sink in.
*»Based on the original version of Lucys report. The one she submitted to you a week ago.»*
Thompsons face went ashen. Now he understood.
*»Buthowthose figures»*
*»Ah, *those* figures?»* Robert tossed the paper aside. *»The ones you sent the client were pure fiction. You altered them recklessly. Almost deliberately.»*
He leaned over Thompsons desk, looming.
*»Two months ago, security flagged suspicious activity. A systematic data leak to our biggest competitorRegional Capital.»*
Thompson shrank back.
*»We couldnt pinpoint the source. Then Lucy volunteered to help.»* Roberts tone was clinical. *»She suspected the leak wasnt just theftit was sabotage. Creating chaos from within.»*
A pause. Thompsons knuckles whitened.
*»She joined your team. Saw everythingyour incompetence, your bullying, your habit of stealing credit and shifting blame.»*
Robert stepped back. *»But the real prize? Watching you edit her report late at night. And saving it to that flash drivethe one with the football keyring. The camera above your desk caught it all.»*
Silence. Thompson was broken.
*»Now,»* Roberts voice turned to steel, *»lets discuss damages. And the criminal charges for corporate espionage. Sit down. This will take a while.»*
A nod toward the door. Two security men stepped in.
Robert took my bag, guiding me out. Behind us, Thompson sat alonehis world in ruins.
—
### **Later That Night**
The car glided through Londons glowing streets.
*»Well, Sherlock,»* Robert grinned. *»Pleased with your handiwork?»*
I exhaled. *»Pleased hes gone. Youve no idea how toxic that place was.»*
His grip tightened on the wheel. *»Now I do. Thank you. You didnt just expose a traitoryou showed me the rot in my own company.»*
A pause. *»I thought I was building a business. Turns out Id let a petty tyrant run a fiefdom.»*
I knew hed act. Robert never made empty promises.
This wasnt the end. Just the beginning of cleaning housenot just of spies, but of the fear and mediocrity they thrived on.
*»The worst part?»* I murmured. *»He didnt just mismanage. He *broke* people. That young analyst, Jamesbright, full of ideasThompson convinced him he was worthless.»*
*»Ill meet with James tomorrow,»* Robert said firmly. *»With the whole team. No management. Just listening.»*
I smiled. *»Good. They need to know the rules have changed.»*
—
### **One Year Later**
My officenow *»Director of Corporate Culture»*was more lounge than executive suite: soft chairs, bookshelves, a coffee table. Fear had no place here.
James, once timid, now led his team with confidence. *»Lucy, got a minute? Wanted your thoughts on streamlining the workflow.»*
An hour later, he grinned. *»Youve no idea how much things have changed. People arent afraid anymore.»*
Thompson? Last I heard, hed got probation and a crippling fine. Worked as a clerk somewhere obscure.
Robert squeezed my hand that evening. *»Remember when I called this place my fiefdom? I was wrong. It was a sickness.»*
A beat. *»Resignations are down sixty percent. Productivitys up forty in restructured teams.»*
Numbers, yes. But behind thempeople who no longer felt like cogs in a machine.
*»Your wellness service works,»* he said.
I watched the city lights. Real victory wasnt catching one bad apple.
It was building a system where they couldnt grow in the first place.
