The Gift Receipt Chapter 2

After that day, a wall of ice formed between Isabelle and me. She didn’t come home for a week. Where she went, who she saw—I didn’t care to know. My entire focus was on the Apex Industries partnership. Their team felt our last proposal wasn’t quite there.

Determined to perfect it, I lived at the office for a week straight. Finally, my team and I crafted a flawless proposal, one they couldn’t possibly refuse. This deal was the lifeblood of our company for the next two quarters. I spent three full days preparing for the signing ceremony.

But when I walked into the conference room with my team, I saw them.

Isabelle and Leo.

They were laughing and chatting with Mr. Harrison, the CEO of Apex.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow at me, a smug, triumphant smile on her face. “What took you so long? The contract is already signed. You can take your people and go home.”

A roar filled my ears. I turned to Mr. Harrison. “Sir, what’s going on? We were scheduled to sign today at ten.” My voice was tight. “I wasn’t even here. What contract did you sign? And more importantly, Leo has been fired. He has no authority to represent our company!”

Isabelle cut me off. “I never approved Leo’s termination, Grant. Your verbal dismissal doesn’t count.” Her smile widened. “Besides, he’s now the top performer on the team. Who would dare fire him?”

Mr. Harrison frowned at me, his tone laced with confusion. “Mr. Coleman, I should be asking you what’s going on. Why would you fire an outstanding employee like Leo? The young man is talented, diligent, and hardworking. He’s been staying late every night to get this project over the line.”

His voice grew heavier. “As a leader, you can’t just steal the credit for a young person’s work.”

The sheer absurdity of it all made my head spin. “Mr. Harrison, you must be mistaken. I was the one working late. My team and I were the ones coordinating with your people every single day.”

But he shook his head firmly. “No, Mr. Coleman. You were merely the intermediary. The person doing the real work behind the scenes was Mr. Leo.”

He pushed a signed contract across the table. I flipped it open. Every detail, every clause, every projection—it was identical to my proposal.

My head snapped up, my eyes locking onto Leo. “How did you get your hands on my project files?”

Leo’s eyes immediately reddened. “Mr. Coleman,” he whimpered, “I… I made this proposal myself. Why wouldn’t it be in my hands?”

Isabelle instantly moved to his side, shielding him. “I can vouch for him. Leo did all the work himself. Grant, stop trying to take credit for what isn’t yours.”

As she spoke, a flicker of guilt crossed her eyes, but it was gone in an instant.

I understood everything. She would stop at nothing to keep Leo by her side. I didn’t know how she’d done it—perhaps a mole on my team—but right now, I had to prove the truth.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “I don’t steal credit from anyone. Because I have a complete record of all my work.”

I signaled for my assistant to bring my laptop.

But before he could, Leo plugged his own device into the projector. “Mr. Harrison, everyone, here are all the records I kept while creating this proposal.”

On the screen, my source files, my edit history, my entire digital trail appeared.

A cold dread washed over me. I opened my own laptop. Every related folder was empty. The source files had been wiped.

I was shaking with rage. I pointed at Leo. “What did you do to my computer?”

He flinched, shrinking behind Isabelle and starting to sob. “Mr. Coleman, please, just leave me alone. I really did do all this myself. If you want it, I can give it to you, but please, don’t fire me. I’ve worked so hard for this job…”

His crying drew the attention of people outside the conference room. Whispers and pointed fingers followed. I ignored them and quickly logged into my cloud account. The access logs showed a login from an unrecognized device just thirty minutes prior.

There was only one other person who knew the password to that account. Isabelle.

I lifted my head and stared at her, my eyes burning holes into her. She couldn't meet my gaze.

A volcano of fury erupted in my chest.

Crack!

I lunged across the room and slapped her again, harder this time.

“You shameless bitch!” I roared. “You stole my work just to protect your little lapdog!”

She clutched her face, denying everything. “What are you talking about?!”

Leo fanned the flames, his voice thick with fake tears. “Mr. Coleman, please don’t be angry with Ms. Coleman. It’s all my fault. I… I’ll just give the project to you, okay?”

He picked up the contract and tried to shove it into my hands.

Mr. Harrison had seen enough. He blocked Leo’s path and pointed a trembling finger at me, his face a mask of disgust.

“I was wrong about you, Grant Coleman,” he spat. “Let me make one thing clear: I am signing this contract with Mr. Leo, and no one else! Security! Get this man out of my building!”

Guards rushed in and dragged me out of the room.

I went home and collapsed onto the sofa, a fire of rage and betrayal scorching my insides. I picked up my phone, ready to call my assistant and launch a crisis PR campaign, when a notification flashed across the screen.

A trending news headline.

Corporate CEO Grant Coleman Bullies New Employee in Vicious Power Play

I clicked on it. The video from the signing had been edited into a masterpiece of manipulative fiction. In the clip, I was a snarling aggressor, while Leo was a weeping victim, looking as if he might shatter into a million pieces. The headline was pure bait: The Unfeeling Capitalist vs. The Helpless Worker: A Modern Tragedy.

The comment section was a cesspool.

[This Grant guy looks polished, but he’s pure evil.]

[My heart breaks for Leo. Poor thing. All capitalists are scum!]

[Stealing someone’s work and then acting all high and mighty about it? Unbelievable.]

Just then, another notification appeared. A live broadcast from my company’s official account.

It was Isabelle. On screen, she looked exhausted and burdened, with dark circles artfully smudged under her eyes.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Isabelle Coleman. Regarding the events of this afternoon, I want to apologize on behalf of my husband, Grant.” Her voice was heavy with sorrow. “Grant has been under immense pressure lately, and his mental state has been… unstable. That’s why he acted out. I have placed him on an indefinite leave of absence from all his duties at the company so he can focus on his health. I hope that his personal issues won’t affect your opinion of our company.”

I was trembling, my blood boiling. I dialed her number.

On the live feed, I saw her glance at her phone, an expression of weary resignation on her face. Then, in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers, she declined my call.

And turned her phone off.

The chat exploded.

“OMG, Isabelle is a saint. Her husband is a monster and she’s still protecting him.”

“She married such a narcissistic asshole. What terrible luck.”

“Poor Isabelle, having to deal with a crazy husband and save her company at the same time.”

With one broadcast, she had successfully crucified me.

Fine. Just fine.

I laughed, a raw, humorless sound, and opened my own social media account to go live and tell the truth.

Password incorrect.

I tried every password I’d ever used. All wrong. I went through the recovery process, and the moment I logged in, my inbox was flooded with thousands of hate-filled, threatening messages. I ignored them and hit the ‘Go Live’ button.

The camera activated. Before I could say a single word, a black screen appeared.

“Your account has been suspended for violating platform community guidelines.”

The screen went dark.

I grabbed my car keys and stormed out of the house.

The company building was lit up like a beacon. I kicked open the door to her office.

She was sitting behind her desk, watching me with a calm, triumphant smile.

“Isabelle, do you really think my parents won’t make you pay for this?”

She laughed softly and walked toward me. “Grant, your parents are halfway across the world. By the time they hear about this, it will be old news.” Her eyes were cold, filled with contempt. “Besides, I’m sure that when they find out, they’ll understand my actions. It’s high time someone taught you to control that spoiled rich-boy temper of yours.”

She had the audacity to act like she was doing me a favor. “Think of this as a small lesson. Once the storm passes, I’ll let you come back.” She sighed, her face a mask of false sincerity. “I didn’t want to do this, but Grant, you were being too cruel. I can handle being hurt, but Leo has done nothing to you. You can’t take your anger out on him. You have no idea how brilliant he is. You’re just too prejudiced, too impulsive.”

Her words were so absurd they were almost comical. I looked her up and down, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Oh, please, Isabelle. He’s a fresh college graduate. Are you really interested in his ‘brilliance,’ or is it something else? You know the truth.”

My voice dropped, filled with disgust. “I must have been blind to ever marry a venomous snake like you.”

Another word would have been a waste of breath. I couldn’t stand the sight of her sickeningly false face for another second. I turned and walked away.