Chapter 6: Endgame

I thought it over. If I really hand over my work, they’ll have a legitimate reason to stop paying my commission.

As long as I refuse, they have no grounds. If they do stop paying, I can go to arbitration while still employed. Now that things are out in the open, I don’t have much to lose.

That afternoon, when Natalie came for the handover, I didn’t say a word.

Natalie stood there for a while, awkwardly, then left.

She shifted from foot to foot, not meeting my eyes. I almost felt bad for her—almost. But this was survival now.

A while later, Carl and Natalie came together.

"Derek, what’s the meaning of this?"

"Nothing. Don’t play dumb. If you’re not assigning me new work, why should I hand anything over? After the handover, will you keep paying my commission?"

At this point, I understood completely. Carl and HR were in this together—forcing me out was probably decided between them before they even told the boss.

The whole place was a shark tank. I was just chum in the water.

"That’s enough. What’s the point of dragging this out? I’ve already sent formal emails to all your clients. Natalie will be responsible for all your business from now on. All projects will be handled by Natalie. You’re no longer involved."

These people are shameless. Over the years, I’ve drunk myself sick at client dinners, taken clients out to bars in the middle of the night, racked my brain to plan holiday trips for clients’ families, and slowly poached clients from competitors. Now that everything’s stable, they want to throw me away.

I remembered the time I’d driven two hours to bail a client out after he’d missed a flight, the Christmas Eve spent at a steakhouse with a client’s wife and kids. All for the job. Now none of it mattered.

As soon as Carl left, clients started calling to ask what happened. I explained briefly, and the client fell silent. After a moment, he said:

"Derek, your company’s internal affairs—I can’t get involved. If you need, I can help recommend you to other jobs."

I thanked him and hung up. For clients, whether it’s Derek or Natalie, as long as they get what they want, they have no reason to fight for you.

That’s how the world works. Whether it’s hard work or drinking together, when interests are at stake, no one will stick their neck out for you.

Carl won’t help, clients won’t either.

They only care if their own interests are threatened.

Now it’s done. Carl has already started the forced handover. Looks like I have no choice.

Am I really going to be kicked out so pathetically?

The business I built up with my own hands has been snatched away—what an irony.

I sat there in the glow of my monitor, office half-empty, watching the sunset crawl across the skyline. Somewhere, someone was probably getting a raise for the work I’d done. But I still had my pride—and my next move. Somewhere in this building, someone was already celebrating my downfall. But as I watched the city lights flicker on, I made myself a promise—I’d make them regret ever betting against me.