Chapter 3Bonus Boxed in Shame

Facing Linda’s malicious slander, I didn’t descend into a shouting match like a fishwife.

Instead, I merely turned slightly, smiling at the industry titans around me.

“Mr. Henderson’s company culture is certainly… unique.”

I said, unhurriedly, “After all, when annual bonuses are condoms, I just can’t appreciate that kind of generosity.”

My voice wasn’t loud, but it was just clear enough for everyone nearby to hear.

A stir went through the crowd, many revealing looks of disdain.

Mr. Henderson’s face instantly turned ashen, as if he’d been slapped hard.

Infuriated, he pointed at me: “Iris Graham, you just wait!”

After the gala, Mr. Henderson didn’t let up.

He aggressively spread rumors in several industry group chats, each with hundreds of members.

He claimed I’d stolen trade secrets from my former company, even Photoshopped some explicit images.

All in an attempt to completely ruin my reputation before the Apex Group tender.

Whispers started circulating within Genesis Tech as well.

People gossiped in the break room, questioning whether I would bring negative publicity to the company.

“That Ms. Graham, her reputation isn’t great, is it?”

“Why did Mr. Chen hire someone like her?”

Mr. Chen, the VP, walked straight in, slamming a file onto the table.

“I value Ms. Graham’s capability.”

He scanned the room, his voice icy: “These underhanded tactics just prove our competitor is desperate. Anyone caught gossiping will be out the door.”

Standing outside the door, a warmth spread through me.

With the company trusting me so much, I couldn’t afford to lose.

I didn’t rush to defend myself in the group chats; that would be a waste of time.

Instead, I contacted a lawyer directly, getting all of Mr. Henderson’s defamatory screenshots and recordings notarized.

At the same time, I reached out to a few former clients who had been burned by Mr. Henderson.

We were going to team up and prepare a big surprise for him.

The Apex Group bidding conference arrived as scheduled.

Mr. Henderson and Linda, with their team, arrived in full force.

They carried a beautifully bound proposal.

Just a glance at the cover told me it was a plagiarism of an old, discarded draft of mine.

Even the formatting hadn’t changed.

Linda cornered me by the lounge door.

She leaned in, smugly, “Don’t bother, Ms. Graham.”

“Mr. Thompson privately agreed that as long as tonight…”

She gave an ambiguous wink: “The contract’s ours. Your boring data won’t do anything.”

I looked at her as if she were a hopelessly foolish child.

“You don’t even know what Mr. Thompson detests most, and you think you’ll win the bid?”

Mr. Thompson had a daughter who had been harassed early in her career.

That’s why he loathed workplace quid pro quo above all else.

Linda was dancing in a minefield, thinking she was waltzing.

I couldn’t be bothered to enlighten her, merely sneering, “Is that so? Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Both parties entered the conference room.

Mr. Henderson sat opposite me, glaring menacingly.

He raised a hand to his neck, miming a throat-slitting gesture.

His lips clearly formed: “You’re toast.”

I calmly opened my laptop.

Mr. Thompson entered, his expression stern.

His gaze flickered with distaste as it swept over Linda’s overly revealing dress.

When he looked at me, he gave a slight nod.