"Who could it be? Vice President Zhang?"
"My money's on Director Wang from Marketing—his department doubled their numbers this year."
"What about..." someone lowered their voice, "Assistant Gilbert? He's President Henson's golden boy."
Dean Gilbert clearly heard that last remark.
The curve of his lips deepened, a flicker of smug certainty crossing his eyes.
Beside him, Mary smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her skirt, her smile perfectly composed.
I picked up the golden envelope and slid it open, taking my time.
"This year, our company welcomed an exceptional new member." My gaze swept across the audience. "She joined the R&D department less than six months ago, yet she spearheaded the core algorithm breakthrough for the Starsea Project—saving the company nearly ten million dollars and pioneering an entirely new technical pathway."
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
As my words sank in, the smugness on Dean's face slowly calcified. Mary's polished smile evaporated.
I continued reading: "She is young, yet possesses extraordinary talent and focus. She keeps a low profile, yet her achievements shine brilliantly."
"By unanimous decision of the Board of Directors, this year's Special Contribution Award goes to..."
I paused, letting my gaze land squarely on Dean's face.
The color had already begun draining from his cheeks. That confident smirk hung frozen in place—a poorly fitted mask starting to crack.
I looked away and announced clearly:
"From the R&D Department—Mabel Mason!"
"Winner of the Annual Special Contribution Award!"
Applause and cheers detonated simultaneously.
The spotlight swung to an unremarkable table tucked in the corner.
A young woman in black-framed glasses, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, scrambled to her feet. Bewilderment and disbelief were written across every feature.
A colleague gave her a nudge, and she finally snapped out of her daze, making her way to the stage on unsteady legs.
In that instant, Dean's face turned the color of raw liver.
It was a shade born of shock, humiliation, and barely contained rage all churning together.
His fists clenched so hard his knuckles went white. His once-straight spine curved forward slightly, coiled tight, his stare boring into Mabel on the stage.
Mary was clearly rattled too.
She twisted toward him, one hand pressing down on his rigid arm, her lips moving rapidly as she whispered something urgent.