The Pie-Maker’s Final End Chapter 2

In the final week before my contract expired, Mr. Wang's exploitation reached a fever pitch.

He summoned me to his office, a corner suite with a panoramic view of the city's financial district.

Sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, so bright it hurt my eyes.

He leaned back in his expensive leather chair, his fingers drumming a light rhythm on the polished mahogany desk.

"Claire, this project is yours."

He pushed a thick file across the desk. The cover read: "Apex Group Strategic Partnership Proposal."

Apex Group. The company's largest, most important, and most difficult client.

I opened the file. After two pages, my heart sank.

It was a new, incredibly complex, custom request involving multiple technical hurdles. And the client wanted to see a complete first draft in three days.

Three days.

It was an impossible task.

This wasn't just exploitation; it was sabotage.

"Mr. Wang, three days is too tight. The technical feasibility study alone will..."

"Claire."

Mr. Wang cut me off, that signature, knowing smile plastered on his face again.

"I know it's difficult. That's why it's a test."

He stood up, walked around the desk, and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder once more.

"You're young. Don't be so quick to say no. The company has invested so much in you. It's time we see what you're really made of."

He leaned in closer, his voice low, laced with the smell of stale liquor and hypocrisy.

"Your contract is up soon. Whether or not we renew it depends on your performance this time."

A naked threat, sugar-coated with the word "test."

My stomach churned.

I didn't argue. I just picked up the file, which felt as heavy as a block of lead.

"I'll do my best."

As I left his office, Mark immediately appeared at my side, his face a mask of undisguised glee.

"Congrats, Claire. Mr. Wang is giving you a real opportunity. Work hard, and you might just get to stay."

His voice was low, but loud enough for the whole office to hear.

Everyone was watching me, as if I were a character in a play.

Pity, mockery, indifference.

Their gazes wove a giant net, trapping me in the center.

I returned to my desk and dropped the file with a dull thud.

In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that Mr. Wang had no intention of renewing my contract.

He just wanted to squeeze every last drop of value out of me before tossing me aside like trash.

If I succeeded with this project, the credit would be his—a testament to his "strong leadership and capable team."

If I failed, the blame would be mine—proof of my "incompetence and inability to perform."

I was the final stepping stone in his climb to the top.

I opened my laptop and stared at the impossible task before me. I felt no anger, no despair.

Just a terrifying, preternatural calm.

For the next three days, I became a ghost in the office.

During the day, I sat at my desk, organizing files and dealing with the miscellaneous tasks Mark and the others threw my way.

At night, when the office was empty, filled only with the hum of the air conditioning, my real work began.

Sarah couldn't stand to watch. At eleven o'clock one night, she placed a hot cup of coffee on my desk.

"Claire, stop. It's not worth it."

She looked at my bloodshot eyes, her face full of concern.

"You're going to ruin your health for this company, and who's going to care?"

I took the coffee. The warmth from the mug spread through my fingertips but didn't reach my heart.

I managed a tired smile.

"It's okay, Sarah. Just seeing things through to the end."

She sighed and didn't press further, just quietly cleared away the empty takeout containers on my desk.

After she left, I didn't open the complex project file.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

The contact name was "Mr. Miller - Apex."

The call was answered quickly. A steady, slightly weary voice came through the line.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Miller, good evening. This is Claire Chen."

"Oh, Claire," his tone immediately warmed. "It's late. Is everything alright?"

"Mr. Miller, I wanted to confirm a few technical details about the new strategic partnership proposal directly with you, to make sure we're on the right track."

I didn't bother with any so-called corporate procedures, because I knew that for Mr. Miller of Apex Group, I, Claire Chen, was the most efficient procedure.

For the past three years, every time their internal system had an emergency failure, no matter the time of night, I was the one who responded immediately, solving the problem remotely.

Every time they had a wild, blue-sky idea, I was the one who stayed up all night creating a prototype that matched their vision.

His trust was never in my company; it was in me.

"Of course. Go ahead."

Over the next hour, I worked directly with the project's final decision-maker to hammer out all the core details and technical pathways.

He'd raise a technical challenge, and I'd immediately offer three viable solutions.

I'd mention a resource constraint, and he'd immediately approve the allocation of internal group resources to support it.

Everything that Mr. Wang saw as a "barrier" or a "challenge" was, for me, simply a problem to be solved.

Three days later, as the first rays of dawn streamed into the empty office, I printed out a one-hundred-and-twenty-page, flawless proposal.

I placed it neatly on Mr. Wang's desk.

Then, I went back to my own computer and selected all the folders I had created for the "Apex Project" over the past few days.

They contained all my notes, technical prototypes, communication records with Mr. Miller, and the final source files for the proposal.

I hit "Delete."

And then, I emptied the recycling bin.

All traces were gone.

At ten in the morning, a beaming Mr. Wang strode into the office.

He saw the proposal on his desk, flipped through a few pages, his satisfaction practically radiating from him.

He walked to the center of the office and cleared his throat.

"Everyone, I have some great news! The Apex project... our team has, against all odds, secured it!"

"This proposal is outstanding. It perfectly showcases our department's incredible strength and professionalism!"

A round of thunderous applause erupted.

He basked in the praise and adulation, never once looking in my direction, never once mentioning my name.

It was as if the proposal had sprouted from his desk on its own.

He clutched the document, the result of my three sleepless nights, like a trophy and marched proudly toward the senior executive's office.

I watched his retreating back, my eyes cold and empty.

I knew that the final tie between me and this company had just been severed. By my own hand.