They Called the Cops Over My Apple Monitor, So I Took Back My Billion-Dollar Patent Chapter 1

When I resigned, a coworker set his sights on the Apple Pro Display XDR I had bought with my own money.

I ignored him and packed it up to leave.

The next day, that same coworker reported me for embezzling company property.

My manager immediately called the police on behalf of the company:

"Ethan, the company has nurtured you for years. How could you do something so illegal? Hand the monitor over right now, and we can handle this internally without putting a felony on your criminal record."

I calmly pulled a stack of documents from my briefcase and slid them across the table to the mediating police officer.

"Here are the official Apple store purchase records, the digital receipts, and my personal credit card statements for the Pro Display XDR and the Pro Stand. The total comes to exactly $6,998."

Later, during the company’s multi-million dollar Series A funding press conference, I legally revoked the core algorithm patent I had previously allowed them to use for free.

A project worth hundreds of millions of dollars completely collapsed because of it.

* * *

Friday at 3:00 PM. I pressed Enter, sending the final handover documentation to the department's shared email.

A "Sent Successfully" notification popped up on the screen.

I took off my glasses and massaged the bridge of my nose, preparing to pack up the 32-inch Pro Display XDR sitting on my desk.

Two years ago, I couldn't stand the terrible color accuracy of the cheap monitors the company provided. It was ruining my design rendering work, so I spent $6,998 of my own money to buy this one.

Now that I was leaving, I was naturally taking it with me.

Click.

I unplugged the Thunderbolt 4 cable from the back, and the screen instantly went dark.

Suddenly, a thick-knuckled hand slammed down on the edge of my desk.

"Packing up, Ethan?"

Brad Miller leaned in, his eyes glued greedily to my monitor.

"Yeah," I replied flatly, not looking up.

I continued to untangle the messy cables on my desk, tying them neatly with velcro straps.

"Ethan, this monitor..." Brad swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I didn't see it on the handover inventory list. Didn't Manager Davis say all equipment from departing employees has to go back to IT to be reallocated?"

He deliberately emphasized the word reallocated.

The entire open-plan office instantly went dead silent.

The clatter of keyboards from the surrounding cubicles ceased. I could feel several pairs of eyes peering through the gaps between their computer screens, quietly watching the drama unfold.

Brad's desk was usually covered in cheap, plastic anime figures. He used the standard, heavily color-distorted, hundred-dollar monitor the company bought in bulk.

He had been coveting my equipment for a long time. Over the past six months, he had made countless excuses to "sync up" or "align our deliverables," just to hover by my desk and drool over this screen.

"It's not on the company's asset list," I said, picking up a microfiber cloth to meticulously wipe down the aluminum bezel.

"Not on the list?" Brad's voice jumped an octave, sounding like a rat whose tail had just been stepped on.

"Come on, Ethan, don't be like that. We're all wage slaves here. You're leaving, but if you leave the equipment, the rest of the team can still use it. Taking everything with you isn't exactly a class act, is it?"

He turned his head, throwing his hands up to address the rest of the office loudly: "Everyone, be the judge here! The company spent big money to get this top-tier equipment, and now that he's quitting, he's trying to swipe it. Isn't that stealing from the company?"

A few muffled snickers drifted over from the corner.

I stopped what I was doing, turned around, and looked at him coldly.

"Brad."

My voice wasn't loud, but in the silent office, it was crystal clear.

"First, on my very first day here, I bought this monitor with my own money because the company equipment was trash. Second, keep your eyes off my property."

Brad's face stiffened, then flushed a bright, angry red.

He stuck his neck out and argued back, "Just because you say you bought it means you bought it? Everyone knows this thing costs thousands of dollars! Like a regular employee would drop that kind of cash. Besides, you've had it plugged into the company's wall, using the company's electricity every single day. That makes it public property!"

His bottom-feeder logic was truly breathtaking.

I couldn't be bothered to waste another breath on him. Reasoning with a fool is a waste of a life.

From under my desk, I pulled out a custom aluminum flight case I had prepared in advance. I detached the heavy Pro Stand and nestled it securely into the foam groove.

Then, I lifted the monitor panel. Before sliding it into the case, I ran my long fingers lightly over the bottom right corner of the back panel.

Right there, completely hidden from plain sight, was a tiny holographic security sticker.

Printed on it was an independent serial number that only I knew.

Clack.

I closed the case, the metal latches snapping shut with a crisp sound.

Brad stared at the silver case, his eyes a toxic mix of greed and resentment.

He pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying furiously across the screen. I didn't even need to look to know he was in the department Slack channel, dramatically exaggerating my "crimes" of stealing company assets.

I picked up the heavy case, grabbed my tailored briefcase, and walked straight toward the elevators.

Behind me, Manager Davis’s signature, nasal cough echoed as he stepped out of his private office.

"What's going on? What's all this noise?" Davis asked, holding his Yeti thermos.

"Manager Davis! Ethan just took that seven-thousand-dollar monitor! That's the most expensive piece of hardware our department owns!" Brad yelled, tattling like he had just caught a bank robber.

The elevator doors slowly slid shut.

Through the narrowing gap, I saw Manager Davis’s chubby face twist in outrage, and the malicious gleam shining in Brad's eyes.