They Stole My Project , Now the CEO Is Begging Me BackChapter 1

The open vote for the Cloudridge Estates Luxury Residences project lead was held today.

Kenneth Fletcher: thirteen votes. Me: zero.

Thirteen people in the design department. Not a single one picked me.

Edmund James jabbed his pen against my name on the ballot, pressing hard.

The ink bled into an illegible smear.

"Ronnie, it was a fair vote. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

The corner of his mouth curled into the kind of smirk that said I run this department, and you know it.

"Fair."

I rolled the word around in my mouth, slow and quiet.

I'd been on the Cloudridge project for a full year, practically living on-site since the day the structural work finished.

A thousand units. Eighteen buildings. Twenty stories each.

I'd climbed every single floor myself.

Seven unit types, a hundred and eight design plans. All mine.

Forty-five firms competing for the bid. I won it.

The $40 million design fee. I negotiated it.

And now it had been handed to an intern who didn't even know the name of the client's contact person.

And he was telling me this was a fair vote?

I looked down at the supplementary agreement Cloudridge had just sent over.

Under "Designated Project Lead," one name was printed: Ronnie Butler.

I let my gaze drift away from the screen.

Quietly, I opened LinkedIn and updated my resume.

"No problem."

……

Edmund looked mildly surprised. He reached over and gave my shoulder a pat.

"Well, well. Designer Butler's really showing some team spirit today. Then again, you've been here nine years. A veteran like you should understand how the company operates. Got to make room for the new blood."

I didn't respond. I turned and walked out of the conference room.

The moment the door swung shut, I caught a glimpse through the glass: Kenneth and Edmund, high-fiving each other.

"Eddie, we finally got rid of that dead weight."

Edmund was trying to keep his composure, but the glee leaked through the door like it couldn't be contained.

"Forty million in design fees, and he was taking all the credit. How was I supposed to do my job as director with him around?"

I turned and walked through the open office. Low murmurs rippled around me as I passed.

"Vote's done? Look at him, wilting like a frost-bitten plant. Guess he lost?"

"Holy crap, forty million in fees, twenty percent commission. That's almost ten million gone. I'd lose my mind too."