She opened her mouth to refute me, to scream, to fire me—but the logic was a trap she'd set herself. For a long, agonizing moment, she couldn't find the words.
My words cut through her hypocrisy with surgical precision.
William, sensing the shift, panicked. He turned to the CEO, his voice rising. "Ms. Pruitt, look at his attitude! He's just lying down on the job! He's giving up completely!"
Willow ignored him, her glare fixed on me. "You claim to be the project department's chief person in charge?"
I scoffed. "Chief person in charge? Please. For seven years, my 'responsibilities' have consisted of pouring tea, ordering takeout, signing for deliveries, and printing your materials. That is the extent of my leadership."
I met her eyes, my gaze steady. "Isn't that exactly what you said to me earlier?"
Her face flushed crimson—the precursor to a volcanic eruption. The reaction of a narcissist who had never been challenged by someone she considered an insect.
For a moment, she was speechless.
"Alex Dickerson!" she finally shrieked. "You are insolent! The company has supported you for seven years, and this is how you repay us? By talking back to your superiors?"
She slammed her hand against the desk. "If you don't want to work, then get out! Get out of my company right now! And don't you dare think you'll see another cent in wages or bonuses!"
Her voice cracked. "Don't delude yourself into thinking the world stops turning just because you're gone!"
I nodded calmly. A faint smile played on my lips.
"Thank you, Ms. Pruitt."
