Chapter 3

Someone leaked it, and word tore through the industry almost overnight.

I became a joke in the field, the textbook case of a man who outshines his master and then gets discarded once his usefulness runs out.

My phone wouldn't stop ringing.

First came the old colleagues and old friends, fishing around the edges for details, their voices thick with pity.

Then came the headhunters.

“Mr. Fox, hello. We're with XX recruiting. We have a technical director position open, three million a year. Would you be interested in hearing more?”

“Mr. Fox, we're…… three point five million a year, plus stock options.”

“Mr. Fox……”

I turned every one of them down, politely “Thank you, but I'm not planning to change jobs right now.”

They were all baffled. They couldn't understand why I still hadn't left.

Neither could I.

Maybe it was the last thread of loyalty I still felt toward the old chairman.

Maybe I just wanted to see how far Geraldine was willing to take this.

Until the call came from our biggest rival, our fiercest competitor——Chavez Global.

It wasn't a headhunter on the line. It was their head of HR, a woman with a brisk, capable voice.

“Mr. Fox, I'm the CHO at Chavez Global. On behalf of Mr. Chavez, I'd like to extend a formal invitation.”

She meant it, and she didn't dance around it.

“We know about your outstanding work on the Blue Ocean project, and we've heard about your current situation at your firm. Mr. Chavez has enormous respect for your talent.”

“We're prepared to offer you a technical partner position. Five million a year, plus an equity package in the tens of millions. Once you're on board, you'll head up the Skyvault Initiative we're about to launch, budgeted at five hundred million.”

Five million a year.

Technical partner.

A five-hundred-million project.

Every one of those terms landed on me like a bomb going off.

I stayed silent for a long time.

It would be a lie to say I wasn't tempted. I knew exactly what my skills were worth. This offer was the market value I'd earned.

But in the end I drew a deep breath and turned it down.

“I'm very grateful for Mr. Chavez's regard, but I……”

“Mr. Fox,” she cut in, “there's no rush to answer. This offer stands for a full month. The door at Chavez Global will always be open to you.”

I hung up and looked out at the blazing lights of the Downtown LA financial district, and for the first time I felt my resolve waver.

The last straw came without warning.

A key client the company had worked with for five years hit a bug during a small-scale system upgrade, and it knocked out their operations for half an hour.

The team running that upgrade and maintenance was Jude's.

The client's complaint went straight to Geraldine. They were furious, threatening to end all cooperation and hold us legally liable.

Geraldine panicked and called me into her office right away.

For the first time, that always-composed face showed real alarm.

“Kent! You are going to fix this! If we lose this client, it's on you!”

That line again.

I looked at her, and all at once I felt tired.

I didn't say anything. I took my team and we fought through thirty-six straight hours. We didn't just clean up every bug Jude left behind; we optimized the entire system architecture while we were at it, and pushed performance up thirty percent.

As for the client, I flew out myself, apologized in person, and walked them through our new optimization plan. Their anger turned to delight. They didn't just drop the idea of ending the partnership, they signed a three-year strategic agreement on the spot.

Everyone breathed easier.

I thought, surely this time some of the credit would be mine.

But the next day, the internal announcement came down.

The subject line: 《Decision to Commend Assistant Lambert for Outstanding Performance During the XX Client Crisis》.

In it, Geraldine used every ornate word she could find to praise Jude for being “calm and steady under pressure, courageous, leading from the front, turning the tide” and single-handedly defusing the crisis.

The whole email, over a thousand words, and not a single line about me or my team's thirty-six hours without sleep.

I stared at that email for a full ten minutes.

Then I laughed.

I dragged that email, along with the last shred of attachment I had to this company, into the trash, and chose “delete permanently”.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I'd saved a week ago.

It connected quickly, and the brisk voice of Chavez Global's head of HR came through.

“Mr. Fox?”

I spoke calmly, without a ripple in my voice.

“Is Mr. Chavez's offer still good?”