At this company, no one has spoken a word to me in three months. I enter the break room; they leave. I get in the elevator; they wait for the next one. Around my desk, there is a three-meter dead zone where no one dares to step. My desk was moved to the storage room. My neighbors are the office printer, a broom, and a stack of calendars from last year. Today is the Annual Gala. I woke up at 5 AM. Not because I was nervous, but because I was excited. I’ve been waiting three months for today. 1 The gala invitations were sent out yesterday. A company-wide blast to 128 employees. I counted. 127 emails were sent. None for me. I didn't ask why. I learned three months ago that asking only invites humiliation. At 8:30 AM, I arrived at the office on time. The time clock flashed: Sarah Miller, 08:27. The light in the storage room has been broken for two weeks. I filed three maintenance requests. No one came. I turned on my phone flashlight to find my desk. It was covered in a layer of dust. It’s not that no one cleans; it’s that the cleaning lady stops at the door. "No need to sweep Sarah’s room," I heard her tell another cleaner. "Nobody goes in there anyway." I pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned it myself. At 8:45 AM, I heard the office outside buzzing with life. "Chloe, what are you wearing to the gala?" "I haven't decided. Brenda said red is lucky, so I bought a red dress." "Brenda treats you so well." "Of course, I'm her mentee." The laughter faded down the hall. I opened my laptop and started working. Yes, you heard that right. I’ve been isolated for three months, but I still work every day. Not because I’m a saint, but because I have a mission. At 9:00 AM sharp, a new email popped up. From: HR Manager, Mr. Lee. Subject: Gala Seating Arrangement. "Sarah, due to limited seating, you are not required to attend this year's gala. You may watch the livestream if needed." I stared at the email for thirty seconds. Then, I smiled. I hit reply and typed three words: "Noted, thank you." Send. At 2:00 PM, I ate takeout alone in the storage room. Spicy shredded potatoes and rice, $12 total. The cafeteria lunch is $15, but I don't go there anymore. Three months ago, I walked into the cafeteria with my tray, and an entire table of eight people stood up and walked away. All of them. I stood there holding my tray while the whole cafeteria stared. Someone laughed out loud. That was the last time I went to the cafeteria. I finished my food and threw the box in the trash. Then I opened a folder on my desktop. Folder Name: 2024 Work Log. Inside were 387 files. Every meeting minute, every email screenshot, every recording of client calls. Including the one from three months ago—the $5 million deal. I looked at those files and took a deep breath. Tonight is the night. 2 Three months ago, I wasn't alone. Back then, my desk was by the window, next to Chloe. Chloe was Brenda’s girl, but she was decent to me. "Sarah, lunch together?" "Sure, where to?" "Cafeteria. They have sweet and sour ribs today." Back then, I thought I was lucky. I had only been at the company for a year and was already in Brenda’s sales team. Brenda was the Sales Manager, an eight-year veteran with top-tier connections. I learned a lot from her. How to drink with clients, how to make pretty PowerPoint decks, how to perform in front of leadership. But there was one thing she didn't teach me. The unwritten rules of the workplace. On a Monday three months ago, I got a call. "Hello, is this Sarah Miller?" "Yes, this is she. May I ask who's calling?" "I'm the assistant to CEO Mr. Zhang of Apex Group. Mr. Zhang would like to meet you tomorrow to discuss a partnership." Apex Group. I almost dropped my phone. Apex was the whale our company had been chasing for two years. Brenda had made no less than twenty trips in two years and hadn't even met Mr. Zhang. How could I, a rookie, possibly... "Are you sure you're looking for me?" "Mr. Zhang said he enjoyed chatting with you at the industry forum last month and wants to continue the conversation." I remembered. A month ago, I was sent to work the registration desk at a forum. Fetching coffee, signing people in—grunt work. During a break, I sat in a corner checking my phone. A middle-aged man sat next to me. He asked for my thoughts on the industry. I thought he was just a regular employee from another company, so I chatted casually. I had no idea he was the CEO of Apex. "Um... I need to report this to my manager." "Manager Brenda, right? We know her," the assistant paused. "Mr. Zhang's intention is to discuss this partnership only with you. If your company has an issue with that, we can forget it." Only with me. After hanging up, my hands were shaking. I knew what this meant. It meant the client Brenda couldn't land in two years might be landed by me, the rookie. It also meant— I was about to steal Brenda’s client. I sat at my desk and thought about it all afternoon. Finally, I went to Brenda. "Brenda, I need to report something." I told her everything about the call. Brenda listened, silent for a few seconds. Then she smiled. "Sarah, this is great news! You have talent, the client recognizes you. That's your capability." "But Brenda, you've been chasing this client for two years..." "If I didn't get him in two years, it means we weren't meant to be." She patted my shoulder. "Go get him. If you land the deal, it's yours." "Really?" "Of course. We're a team. Your success is our success." I was so moved. That night, I worked until 11 PM preparing materials. The next day, I met Mr. Zhang. The third day, I got the letter of intent. The seventh day, the contract was signed. $5 Million. The biggest deal of the year. The day I signed it, I was nearly crying with excitement. I texted Brenda: Brenda, signed it!!! Brenda replied: Great. Just one word. I didn't think much of it. Until a week later, at the sales summary meeting. On the projector, the cover slide read: Apex Group $5M Project Review. Presenter: Brenda. I sat in the audience, stunned. Brenda stood on stage, radiating confidence. "This project... we chased it for two years. We faced countless rejections, cold shoulders..." I listened as she described the proposals I wrote, the all-nighters I pulled, the meetings I attended. My name was not on the slides. "Finally, I want to thank the team for their hard work, especially Chloe, who followed up the whole way. Massive credit to her." Chloe stood up and bowed. Applause filled the room. I sat in the corner, motionless. After the meeting, I found Brenda. "Brenda, about the project..." "What's wrong?" She was packing her laptop. "Why wasn't my name on the presentation?" Brenda stopped and looked at me. "Sarah," she smiled, "you've only been here a year. You're young. Just because you signed the paper doesn't mean the credit is yours." "What do you mean?" "Clients are company resources. Projects are team efforts. Did you think you did this all by yourself? Without the company platform, you are nothing." I stood there, speechless. "Alright, don't overthink it. You have a long road ahead. You need to learn to share if you want to go far." Brenda packed her bag and left. Leaving me alone in the conference room. That was the first time I learned what "workplace rules" really meant. 3 I understood. But I didn't swallow it. The day after Brenda’s lecture, I did something "against the rules." I sent an email to the Big Boss, the CEO. Subject: Supplementary Information Regarding Apex Group Project. The content was simple. Attached were chat logs with Mr. Zhang, meeting minutes, and the signature page of the contract. Evidence of one fact: I landed this deal alone. As soon as I hit send, I knew I was done for. Not because the CEO wouldn't see it—later I learned he did see it, but chose to ignore it. But because Brenda found out about the email. I don't know who told her. Maybe the CEO's secretary, maybe IT. But on the third day, my desk was moved. "There's an empty spot in the storage room. You can sit there," the admin said expressionlessly. "We're reorganizing the office layout." I didn't say a word. I picked up my laptop and moved to the storage room. From that day on, no one spoke to me. No meeting invites. No CCs on weekly reports. People in the break room turned around when they saw me. I became invisible. No, worse than invisible. I was a plague. "Did you hear? Sarah tried to go over Brenda's head and got caught." "Serves her right. Ungrateful." "Brenda treated her so well, mentored her, and she stabbed her in the back." "People like that deserve to be shunned." I heard these whispers in the bathroom, by the water cooler, near the elevator. Countless times. I didn't explain. What was the point? In their eyes, Brenda was the veteran, the mentor, the good leader who bought them drinks. Who was I? A rookie, a rule-breaker, an "ungrateful" snake. Three months ago, I cried once in the storage room. Just once. After that, I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and created a new folder. 2024 Work Log. From that day on, I recorded everything. Every email, every meeting I was excluded from, every detail of the ostracization. Including what Brenda did later. Like reassigning my other clients to different people. Like telling leadership I "lacked capability and couldn't keep up." Like ensuring I wasn't even nominated for Employee of the Year. I kept it all. Not for revenge. But to give myself an answer. I was going to let everyone know who signed the $5 million deal. Who put my desk in the storage room. And what the people isolating me were so afraid of. Today is the Annual Gala. I’ve waited three months for this. I don't have an invitation, but I have something else. I have Mr. Zhang’s personal number. Last week, I called him. "Mr. Zhang, I need a favor." "What is it?" "Can you come to our Annual Gala?" Silence on the other end for a few seconds. "I can," Mr. Zhang said. "Actually, I have a few words I'd like to say myself." I hung up and smiled. Three months. I finally made it to this day. 4 You might ask, why didn't I just quit? I asked myself that too. Three months ago, I almost did. It was the first week in the storage room. Friday evening, I packed up to go home. I walked to the elevator. The doors opened. Seven or eight colleagues from Sales were inside. They saw me. No one spoke. I walked in and pressed '1'. The elevator descended. 12... 11... 10... Silence. I stood in the corner, staring at the numbers. 9... 8... 7... Someone whispered something. The others laughed. I didn't know what the joke was, but I knew it was me. 6... 5... 4... Chloe’s voice suddenly rang out. "Where are we eating tonight?" "Brenda booked the usual spot. She said it's a celebration dinner for the team." "That $5 million deal is enough to brag about for a year." "Totally. All thanks to Brenda." 3... 2... "Hey, I heard that deal was originally..." someone lowered their voice. "Shh—" another cut her off. 1st Floor. Doors opened. They poured out. No one looked back. I stood there, frozen. The doors closed again. I didn't press a button. I just stood there. The elevator started going up. 1... 2... 3... I leaned against the metal wall, and finally, I broke. Tears fell one by one. Not from sadness. From hate. Hating myself. Why am I hiding in a corner when I signed the $5 million deal? Why am I treated like a criminal when I did nothing wrong? Why am I being isolated while they steal my credit? Top floor. Doors opened. Empty. I stood there, wiped my tears. Then I pressed '1'. That night, I went home and wrote a resignation letter. I didn't send it. I saved it in drafts and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling all night. Resign? Then what? Go to another company? Will the next company not have a Brenda? Will there be no credit-stealing bosses, cliquey colleagues, or unfair rules? If I leave, what will they say? "See? Sarah couldn't handle it. She quit." "Serves her right. She didn't know the rules." "Who would dare cross Brenda now?" They would turn me into a joke. A failed, pathetic, self-inflicted joke. And that $5 million deal would forever be "Brenda’s achievement." No. I refuse to leave with that label. I will let everyone know the truth. Even if I only get one chance, I will speak up. The next day, I deleted the resignation letter. And I began to prepare. For three months, I waited for one opportunity. The Annual Gala was that opportunity. 5 The Annual Gala is the company's biggest event. Every department performs, awards are given, all the big bosses attend. And there’s one special segment—Project of the Year. The $5 million Apex deal was a lock for the award. And the person accepting it would obviously be Brenda. I had a plan. I didn't need to accept the award. I just needed the truth to be seen. In early December, I started compiling materials. Chat logs, emails, recordings. I organized them into a PDF. 32 pages. Illustrated, annotated, undeniable evidence. Title: The Real Story of the Apex Group Project. Page 1: My first call with Mr. Zhang, dated October 12th. Last Page: The contract signature page. Under "Company Representative," there was only one name—Sarah Miller. I saved this PDF in three places. Laptop, phone, email drafts. Then, I called Mr. Zhang. "Mr. Zhang, just confirming about the gala." "Don't worry. My assistant already sent the RSVP. I'll be there, and I'm bringing a small gift." "What gift?" "You'll see," Mr. Zhang chuckled. "Sarah, I've done business for twenty years. I hate credit-stealers the most. Don't worry, I'll speak up for you." I was speechless. "I remember the ideas you shared with me. You have talent. You shouldn't be buried." "Thank you, Mr. Zhang." "No need. In this workplace, someone has to be willing to tell the truth." I hung up and sat in the storage room, breathing deeply. Three months of waiting. Three months of preparation. Three months of silence. It all comes down to tonight. At 4:00 PM, the office got loud. "Is your makeup done?" "Yeah, Brenda lent me her lipstick." "When Brenda goes up for the award, we have to cheer loud!" "Obviously!" I listened to their laughter from the storage room. At 5:00 PM, the office cleared out to change and prep. No one came to get me. I didn't need them to. I pulled a dress out of my bag. Black, simple. I bought it myself last month. Today, I didn't need to stand out. I just needed to look like a normal employee. At 6:00 PM, I locked the storage room and headed to the venue. The banquet hall downstairs was glowing with lights. At the check-in table, two admin girls were greeting guests. I walked up. "Sarah?" One of them blinked. "Aren't you..." "I have friends inside," I smiled. "Just going in to look." Before she could react, I walked in. The hall was packed and lively. I found a corner seat and took out my phone. The PDF file sat quietly on my screen. Thirty minutes until showtime. I looked at my colleagues in their gowns and suits, smiles plastered on their faces. I felt strangely calm. Three months ago, I was one of them. Three months later, I am an outsider. But after tonight, everyone will know who the real victim is.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "390947", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel