Chapter 4Bonus Boxed in Shame

Linda was the first to present.

She swayed her hips to the projector screen, as confident as if she were on a red carpet.

“At Cornerstone, we boast industry-leading service philosophies…”

The entire presentation was a display of provocative posing, with the PPT content utterly vacuous.

It was filled with suggestive phrases like “dedicated service” and “premium experience.”

When she reached the crucial technical aspects, she stumbled.

“Uh… well…”

She had to turn to the technician beside her for help, and the atmosphere grew incredibly awkward.

Mr. Thompson cut her off coldly: “Mr. Henderson, is this your idea of commitment?”

Mr. Henderson immediately broke into a cold sweat, stammering, “Well… Mr. Thompson, we can discuss the terms further…”

Mr. Thompson waved his hand impatiently: “Next.”

I adjusted my blazer, picked up the clicker, and walked to the stage.

My presence commanded the room.

No wasted words, just solid data and logical arguments.

I pointed to the line graph on the screen: “From what I understand, Cornerstone’s current inventory turnover rate isn’t sufficient to meet Mr. Thompson’s demands.”

That sentence struck Mr. Henderson’s Achilles’ heel directly.

He slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet: “Iris Graham! You’re leaking former company secrets!”

He pointed at me, roaring, “Mr. Thompson, this is corporate espionage! She stole all this data!”

He tried to disrupt the meeting, to muddy the waters.

I looked at him calmly, a mocking curve to my lips.

“Mr. Henderson, these figures are derived from your publicly available financial reports.”

“Is it so hard to admit to poor management?”

My gaze was sharp: “Also, this is my professional integrity. Unlike some people who only focus their energy on how to hand out condoms to employees.”

The room erupted in laughter.

Mr. Thompson couldn’t help but smile, his admiration unconcealed.

Mr. Henderson’s face turned beet red, but he couldn’t utter a single word in rebuttal.

Mr. Thompson announced on the spot: “No further discussion needed.”

He closed his folder: “I’m very satisfied with Genesis Tech’s proposal. Ms. Graham, let’s sign.”

He completely ignored the Cornerstone group.

Linda wasn’t giving up, trying to rush over to flirt and win him back: “Mr. Thompson, please reconsider…”

Mr. Thompson frowned and called security.

“Please escort this lady out. This is a conference room, not a nightclub.”

Linda was dragged out by security, her arm in their grip, having lost one of her high heels.

Mr. Henderson’s face was ashen, watching the multi-million-dollar contract fall into my hands.

All his arrogance was extinguished in that moment.

Walking out of the conference room, Mr. Henderson slumped, utterly defeated, onto a bench in the hallway.

Like a mangy dog with its back broken.

I walked up to him, looking down at him.

“Mr. Henderson, I told you.”

“Multi-million dollar contracts aren’t signed by taking off your clothes.”

“This project? I’m taking it.”

The glass door of the conference room was violently shoved open with a loud thud.

Mr. Henderson, face red and tie askew, stormed out.

He slammed a thick stack of files onto Ms. Lee’s desk, sending papers flying everywhere.

“Useless! What good are you all, you good-for-nothings!”