**Diary Entry A Twist of Fate**
*”You’re fired, you useless idiot!”* The words exploded from my bosss mouth, echoing off the sleek office walls. But his face drained of colour the moment the companys owner stepped into the room, wrapped an arm around me, and said, *”Darling, shall we go home?”*
That furious shout from David Peterson, head of the department, had been the climax of another one of his histrionic meltdownshis weekly routine of belittling someone new. Today, it was my turn.
Hed slammed a thin folder onto the desk, sending papers scattering like confetti across the polished surface. *”A whole month! A whole bloody month you wasted on that report for SteelBridge! And what do we have? A complete disaster!”*
I watched the veins bulge in his neck, his face twisted in rage. Classic David. Always looking for someone to blame. I stayed silent. Any response would have been like tossing a lit match into petrol.
*”Cat got your tongue? Nothing to say for yourself? I trusted you with our biggest client, and youyoure just incompetent! A waste of space!”* He leaned across the desk, practically jabbing a finger in my face, the acrid scent of his expensive cologne hanging in the air.
*”I dont understand what the issue is, David,”* I replied evenly. *”Every figure was triple-checked. There were no mistakes.”*
My calmness only infuriated him more. *”Oh, she *doesnt understand*!”* he sneered. *”Their commercial director just called me! Theyre furious! Said our numbers had nothing to do with reality!”*
Now *that* piqued my interest. I knew my calculations were flawless. Which meant someone had tampered with them after Id submitted the report.
*”Pack your things. I want you out of here in ten minutes.”* He turned to the window, dismissing me with a wave. I could practically feel his smug satisfactionanother “useless idiot” purged from his delusional little empire.
Slowly, I stood. Not a trace of anger or humiliationjust cold, clear certainty. Everything was going exactly as planned.
As I gathered my thingsmy notebook, pen, pursethe office door swung open without a knock.
David spun around, irritation flashing across his face. *”What the hell?”*
The words died on his lips. His jaw slackened, the colour draining from his cheeks.
In walked Oliver. My husband. Alsoquite convenientlythe owner of the entire company.
He took in the scattered papers, the stunned expression on Davids face, then finally looked at me. A faint smirk flickered in his eyes before he crossed the room, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and kissed my temple.
*”Darling, shall we go home?”*
David gaped at us, opening and closing his mouth like a fish stranded on the riverbank. His perfect little world had just shattered.
*”Oliver Mr. Hartley”* he stammered, his eyes darting between us.
Olivers voice was deceptively soft. *”David, are we having some personnel changes in your department? Firing my best analyst, are we?”*
The subtle emphasis on *my* made David flinch.
*”II didnt know Shes Miss Carter”*
*”My wife chose to work under her maiden name,”* Oliver said casually, picking up one of the strewn reports. *”Wanted to see how things *really* operated from the inside. Without bias.”*
He skimmed the numbers. *”And what she found was fascinating. Especially regarding this report.”*
David swallowed hard. The trap was setting in. *”Mr. Hartley, this is a misunderstanding! Her reportyour wifes reportwas a complete failure! SteelBridge called me”*
*”Did they?”* Oliver arched a brow. *”Odd. Because their chief commercial officer was in my office five minutes ago. We had coffee. Signed an expanded contract.”*
A deliberate pause.
*”Based on the original figures Sophie submitted. The ones *you* had a week ago.”*
David turned ashen. The penny dropped.
*”Ah, those numbers you sent the client?”* Oliver tossed the page back onto the desk. *”The ones that bore no resemblance to reality? You altered them. Rather crudely, at that.”*
He leaned over Davids desk, towering over him. *”Two months ago, security flagged suspicious activity. A systematic leak of tender data. Someone was feeding information to our biggest competitorRegal Capital.”*
David shrank back in his chair.
*”We couldnt pinpoint who. Then my wife volunteered to help. Sophies a brilliant economist. She suspected the mole wasnt just stealing datathey were sabotaging us from within. Creating chaos.”*
Olivers tone was calm, almost academic. David looked like he wanted to bolt.
*”She joined your team. Saw everythingyour incompetence, your arrogance, your habit of stealing credit and shifting blame.”*
A step back. *”But most importantly, she saw you tampering with her report late at night. Saving it to that flash drivethe one with the football club keyring. The camera above your desk caught it all.”*
David was broken.
*”Now,”* Olivers voice hardened, *”lets discuss damages. And the criminal charges for corporate espionage. Sit down. This will take a while.”*
He nodded toward the door, where two security officers stood waiting. Then he took my bag and guided me out, leaving David to his crumbling world.
As we walked through the open-plan office, whispers followed us. The team stared, baffled. The woman David had just fired was now strolling out, arm-in-arm with the CEO.
That night, over a quiet dinner, Oliver told me the rest.
*”Regal Capital wasnt just buying informationthey were grooming him. They knew about his debts, helped settle some, then reeled him in. They wanted him to climb higher before striking.”*
I set down my fork. *”So hed keep weeding out talented people. Clearing his path.”*
*”Exactly. Weak leaders create wastelandsso no one outshines them.”*
The next day, I didnt go back. My mission was over. But that evening, Oliver came home buzzing.
*”Theyve made Ethan acting department head. Know what he did first? Gathered the team and said, I dont know how to lead, so lets figure it out together. All ideas welcome.”*
He grinned. *”Remember Emma? The one David reduced to tears? She pitched a new logging system that cuts report prep by twenty percent. He called it amateur nonsense two months ago.”*
That was the real victory. Uprooting one toxic weed had let fresh growth take its place.
A year later, I sat in my new officeDirector of Corporate Culture. No mahogany desk, no intimidation. Just a quiet space where employees could speak freely.
Ethan stopped by that afternoon. The uncertainty in his eyes had vanished. *”Sophie, youve no idea how much has changed. People arent afraid anymore.”*
That was the best praise I couldve asked for.
As for David? Last I heard, he was working as a low-level clerk somewhere on the outskirts of town. No pity. Hed made his choices.
That evening, Oliver squeezed my hand as we drove home. *”A year ago, I called this place my feudal kingdom. I was wrong. It was a sickness.”*
He glanced at me. *”Resignations have dropped by two-thirds. Productivitys up forty percent in restructured teams.”*
Numbers. But behind them were people who no longer felt like disposable cogs.
*”Your wellness service works,”* he said softly.
I smiled, watching the city lights blur past. The real victory wasnt catching one snake.
It was building a system where they couldnt thrive.
And thatwas worth every second.
