«You’re fired, you useless waste!» the boss screamed. But he paled instantly when the company owner walked into the office, put an arm around me, and said, «Darling, let’s go home.»
«You’re fired, you useless waste!»
The shout from Vincent Pembroke, the department head, seemed to seep into the white office walls. He slammed a slim folder onto the desk, and papers fanned out across the polished surface, a few slipping soundlessly to the floor.
«A whole month! A whole month you wasted on that report for Ironbridge Steel! And what do we get? A disaster!»
I watched his face twist with rage. Red splotches crawled up his neck, his eyes bulging. A textbook tantrumhis weekly ritual, always aimed at a new victim. Today was my turn.
I stayed silent. Any word now would be a match to petrol. That was exactly what he wanted.
«What, nothing to say? No excuses? I trusted you with our biggest client, and you Youre just incompetent! A complete waste of space!»
He loomed over the desk, jabbing a finger near my face. The air was thick with the bitter tang of his expensive cologne.
«I dont understand what disaster youre referring to, Vincent,» I said, my voice steadymaybe too calm. It only enraged him further.
«You dont understand?!» he mocked. «Their commercial director just called me! Theyre livid! Says our numbers have nothing to do with reality!»
Now I was genuinely curious. I knewabsolutely knewthere were no errors in my calculations. Someone had altered the report after Id handed it in.
«Pack your things. I want you gone in ten minutes.»
He turned to the window, signaling the conversation was over. His posture radiated triumph. Another «useless waste» expelled from his delusional little kingdom.
I rose slowly. No anger, no hurtjust cold, clear understanding. Everything was going exactly to plan. Better, even.
Quietly, I gathered my few belongingsa notebook, a pen, my purse.
The office door swung open without a knock.
Vincent spun around, irritated.
«What the devil»
He froze mid-sentence. His face drained of colour, leaving a sickly pallor.
In walked Oliver. My husband. Also, incidentally, the owner of the entire company.
He glanced at the papers scattered on the floor, then at Vincent, and finally at me. A faint smirk flickered in his eyes.
Oliver stepped forward, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and kissed my temple.
«Darling, shall we go home?»
Vincent gaped at us, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. His perfect little world had just cracked at the seams.
«Oliver Montgomery» he finally wheezed, words barely audible. His eyes darted between us.
«Vincent,» Oliver said, deceptively soft. «Having a staffing reshuffle, are we? Decided to fire my best analyst?»
He stressed the word *my*, and Vincent flinched.
«II didnt know Shes Whitmore»
«My wife prefers to work under her maiden name,» Oliver said, casually picking up one of the fallen reports. «Wanted to see how things really worked on the ground. Without bias.»
He skimmed the numbers.
«And what an eye-opening experience its been. Especially with this report.»
Vincent gulped. He was starting to realise this wasnt a coincidence. It was a trap.
«Oliver, this is a misunderstanding! Whitmoresyour wifesreport was a disaster! Ironbridge called me!»
«Really?» Oliver raised an eyebrow. «Odd. Their commercial director was in *my* office five minutes ago. We had coffee and signed an expanded contract.»
He let the silence hang, savoring the effect.
«A contract based on the original numbers Sophie submitted. The same ones she handed to you a week ago.»
Vincents face turned paper-white. Now he understood.
«But how those figures»
«Ah, those figures?» Oliver tossed the sheet back onto the desk. «The ones *you* sent the client had nothing to do with reality. You altered them. Quite haphazardly, too.»
My husband leaned over Vincents desk, looking down at him.
«Two months ago, security flagged unusual activity. A systematic leak of tender data and client details. Someone was feeding our biggest competitorBlackwater Holdings.»
Vincent shrank into his chair.
«We couldnt pinpoint who. Then my wife volunteered. Sophies a brilliant economist. She suspected the mole wasnt just stealinghe was sabotaging us from within. Creating chaos.»
Oliver spoke calmly, almost academically, but it made Vincents skin crawl.
«She joined your department. In a month, she saw it allyour incompetence, your bullying, your habit of taking credit for others work and blaming them for your failures.»
He stepped back.
«But the real prize? She watched you edit her report late at night. Save it to a flash drive. One with a football club keyring. The camera above your desk caught everything.»
Vincent was broken.
«Now,» Olivers voice turned steely, «lets discuss damages. And the criminal charges for corporate espionage. Sit down. This will take a while.»
Oliver nodded toward the door, which immediately cracked open to reveal two security guards. He took my bag and guided me out, leaving Vincent alone with his shattered world.
As we walked through the open-plan office, employees stared in shock. They didnt understand. Theyd just seen their tyrannical boss cornered by the CEO, and Sophie Whitmorefired minutes agowalking out beside him.
The past month played in my mind like a fever dream. The turning point had been last weeks meeting. Vincent had gathered the team to discuss a new project. Ethan, always the creative thinker, proposed a fresh approach to data analysis.
Vincent listened, tapping his expensive pen, then drawled, *»Ethan, Ethan This is why youre stuck on a junior salary while I run this department. Your fantasies have nothing to do with reality. Do your job and stop wasting peoples time.»*
Ethan had shrunk into himself, silent for the rest of the meeting. That was when I knewVincent was afraid.
Afraid of smart, talented people. Because next to them, his mediocrity was glaring. He didnt leadhe scorched the earth around him.
Hed built a department ruled by fear. People were too scared to take initiative, knowing failure meant humiliation and success meant Vincent would steal the glory.
That was the real problem. In that environment, leaks were inevitable. A disgruntled employee was a competitors dream recruit.
But I never suspected the staff. Vincent was the weak link. His flashy watch, hushed phone calls about debtshe lived beyond his means.
The final clue? That football keyring. A week ago, Id «accidentally» mentioned supporting Arsenal.
Vincent had sneered. *»Only losers back that lot. Ive been a United fan for twenty years.»*
That was my trap. The Ironbridge report was flawlessbut Id left two key figures *just* ambiguous enough. Room for him to «improve» it. And hed bitten.
Outside, the evening air was crisp.
«Well, Sherlock?» Oliver grinned, opening the car door for me. «Pleased with your handiwork?»
I slid into the seat, exhausted but smiling.
«Pleased hell never poison another workplace. Youve no idea how toxic it was.»
Oliver took the wheel, his expression grim.
«Now I do. Thank you. You showed me more than a thiefyou showed me the rot in my own company. I thought I was building a business. Turns out Id let a fiefdom grow.»
He started the engine.
«This needs fixing. Properly.»
My «firing» wasnt the end. It was the start of a purgenot just of traitors, but of the fear and incompetence they thrived on.
As we drove through the city, lights streaking past, I broke the silence.
«The worst part? He didnt just mismanage. He broke people. That Ethan he belittled? Brilliant mind. Couldve been an asset. But Vincent convinced him he was worthless.»
«Ill speak to Ethan tomorrow,» Oliver said firmly. «In fact, Ill meet the whole team. No managers. Just listen.»
«Good,» I nodded. «They need to feel the rules have changed.»
We spent the drive planning how to fix the companys culture. That mattered more than catching one spy. Because leaks were just symptoms. The disease was letting men like Vincent thrive.
At home, Oliver shared what hed held back earlier.
«Blackwater didnt just buy intel from him,» he said. «They owned him. Found his debts, paid some off, then reeled him in. They werent just sabotaging usthey were waiting for him to climb higher, then strike.»
It was worse than Id thought.
«So hed keep crushing talent to clear his path?» I asked.
«Exactly. He burned everything around him so no one outshone him. Classic weak leadership.»
The next day, I didnt go in. My job was done. But that evening, Oliver returned energized.
«Made Ethan acting department head. Know what he did first? Gathered everyone and said, *I dont know how to manage, so lets figure it out together. All ideas welcome.*»
Oliver smiled.
«Remember Emma? The girl Vincent reduced to tears? She proposed a new logging systemcuts report prep by twenty percent. He called it *amateur nonsense* two months ago.»
That was the real victory. Uproot one weed, and healthy growth followed.
«So whats next for you?» Oliver asked, pulling me close. «After this, sitting at homell bore you stiff.»
I smirked.
«Who said Im staying home? Ive an idea. A new roleInternal Ethics Auditor. Someone who answers only to you, gathering anonymous feedback from every level.»
Olivers eyes lit up.
«Brilliant. Not security hunting enemiesa health service healing the company from within.»
That ended my undercover mission. And began a harder, more important one: building a company where «useless waste» described bullies, not talent.
A year later, I sat in my top-floor office, the city sprawling below.
My space wasnt some executives fortressjust a cozy lounge with armchairs, bookshelves, a coffee table. Fear had no place here.
My title? *Director of Corporate Culture Development.*
Fancy name, simple jobI listened. The anonymous platform Id built, *Dialogue*, was now the companys most-used internal tool. Anyone could speak freely, without fear.
Sometimes, they came in person. Like today.
The door opened, and Ethan peered in. A year had changed him. The hesitancy was gone, his posture confident. His analytics team broke efficiency records.
«Sophie, got a minute?» he grinned. «An optimisation ideawanted your thoughts before the board meeting.»
We talked for an hour. His passion was infectious.
This was the man Oliver had seen in himnot forged by fear, but freed to create.
«Thank you,» Ethan said as he left. «Youve no idea how muchs changed. People arent afraid anymore.»
That was the best praise.
As for Vincent? I heard of him once. The court gave him probation and a lifetime of debt repayments.
He lost everything. Last rumour? A clerk in some backwater firm. I didnt pity him. Choices have consequences.
That evening, Oliver took my hand as we drove home.
«A year ago, I said you showed me my fiefdom. I was wrong. It was a sickness.»
He paused, watching the road.
«Legal just told mevoluntary resignations are down sixty percent. Productivitys up forty in departments with new leadership.»
Numbers, yes. But behind thempeople no longer feeling like cogs in a machine.
«Your health service works,» he said.
I watched the city lights, thinking: real victory isnt catching one bad apple.
Its building a system where they cant grow.
My work wasnt spy thrillers. It was quiet, patient, almost invisible.
But I knewits what made the company strong. Not profit margins, but people who actually *wanted* to come to work.
And that was worth every trial.
