Former Intern's Revenge

I came across a trending post: "How do you exact revenge on a boss you despise in the workplace?" The top-voted anonymous answer was written in a boisterous tone: "I couldn't stand my boss because he was always acting so high and mighty, so I stole his fiancee! "When she came to pick him up after work, I pretended to lose my balance from low blood sugar and stumbled right in front of her car. That's how I got her contact information. "Seducing her was a piece of cake. She's even carrying my child now. "Later, I resigned, claiming I got another job in my hometown, but I'm actually taking care of my boss' pregnant fiancee in the luxury apartment she bought me. "He's still sending out digital wedding invitations in the company group chat for his wedding next month! It's so funny! He has no idea that his fiancee's salary goes straight to me! "There's no 'first come, first served' in love. The one who's not loved is the third party." At the very bottom of the post was a photo showing the back of a woman cooking in a kitchen. I immediately recognized the mended embroidery patch on the hem of her jacket. She was Wendy Sheppard, my lover of seven years, the woman I was going to marry next month. Chapter 1 I stared fixedly at that slightly crooked sunflower embroidery on the screen. I felt as though all the blood in my body had suddenly flowed in reverse, sending a prickle of bone-chilling coldness straight to my fingertips. I had embroidered that sunflower myself. The jacket was a gift I bought for her on our anniversary last year, though I accidentally snagged a small tear in the fabric. I offered to buy her a new one, but she insisted that it had sentimental value and urged me to mend it for her instead. Back then, as she watched me stitch the flower on, her eyes were filled with sheer happiness. She hugged me and said that now the whole world would know how caring her fiancé was. Yet now, she was wearing the jacket that she claimed meant so much to her inside another man's home, doing laundry and cooking for him. I forced myself to tear my gaze away from that glaring sunflower and re-read the anonymous post: "...pretended to lose my balance from low blood sugar and stumbled right in front of her car…" "...resigned, claiming I got another job in my hometown…" "...still sending out digital wedding invitations in the company group chat…" From these fragmented pieces of information, I quickly pieced together the profile of a specific person: Zach Wood. I tapped on the anonymous account's profile picture. Although his info page was hidden, his activity page showed that he had recently upvoted several posts about maternity and infant products, as well as property reviews for a high-end residential complex in Harboria City. Zach Wood. Wendy Sheppard. You two had really outdone yourselves. Early the next morning, sitting in my private office, I pulled up Zach's personnel file from before his resignation. Looking at the ID photo of the young man smiling so brightly and innocently, the corners of my mouth twitched into a cold smile. During his interview, Zach had appeared exceptionally sharp and clever. The boss was extremely pleased with him and specifically instructed me, the head of sales and the department's top performer, to personally mentor him. Yet, after joining the team, while he was great at sweet-talking clients, the actual results he delivered were terrible. He would lazily cobble together proposals using AI, forcing the entire team to work overtime to help him revise them. He even nearly caused the company to lose a deal worth millions because he didn't check the contract terms properly. However, because he was exceptionally skilled at putting on a show in front of the boss, he managed to escape scot-free every single time. Instead, our entire sales team had to bear the brunt of his mistakes. I believed he had genuine talent and simply lacked discipline, so I was very strict with him. I hoped to temper his impatience and vanity, helping him become more grounded so that, given time, he might carve out a successful path of his own. I even unselfishly showed him the sales pitches, client resources, and guides I had spent years compiling. My hope was that they could help him make fewer mistakes and firmly establish himself in this cutthroat industry. As it turned out, he hadn't changed at all. He had simply harbored resentment in secret. When someone's mind is bent on malice, it cannot be straightened. All the effort and mentorship I invested in him were completely wasted. Wendy was probably not just a tool for him to exact revenge on me, but also a shortcut for his ambition. Chapter 2 I closed my eyes, and the memory of a rainy afternoon half a year ago surfaced in my mind. That day, Wendy was picking me up from work, and Zach happened to be coming down the stairs right behind me. Just as Wendy's car pulled up in front of us, Zach suddenly swayed, clutched his stomach, and leaned against the front of her car. Panicked, Wendy immediately got out to check on him. Pale-faced and breathing heavily against the car door, Zach murmured, "I'm so sorry, Terrence. I was so caught up finishing the report you asked for that I skipped lunch, and now I'm feeling dizzy from low blood sugar..." At the time, my mind was entirely consumed by work. Seeing him in distress, I asked Wendy to take him to the hospital while I hailed a cab home. Thinking back, that was no bout of low blood sugar, it was a premeditated move to throw himself into her arms! From that day onward, Wendy began asking questions about Zach with increasing frequency, remarking how it must not be easy for a young man like him to make it in the city on his own. I had naively thought she was merely acting out of compassion. Little did I know, a woman's compassion is often the passport to infidelity. With a cold chuckle, I turned on my computer and logged into the joint bank account shared by Wendy and myself. We were saving up together to buy a home. Every month, I deposited $3,000 into the account, while Wendy deposited $2,000. Not a cent remained in the account, but even that total was far from covering the down payment for the luxury apartment. A sudden realization struck me: aside from her base salary, Wendy also received substantial quarterly bonuses and project commissions. Half a year ago, she had come to me looking distressed, claiming that the company's performance was suffering, so bonuses were being deferred and might even be canceled altogether. To ease her financial pressure, almost all the expenses over the past six months, including our dates, furniture shopping, and wedding banquet deposit had been covered entirely by me. I picked up my phone and asked a friend working in the finance department of Wendy's company to look into the matter. Ten minutes later, my friend messaged back: [Terrence, Wendy's department has been killing it performance-wise over the past six months. Their bonuses weren't docked at all. Last month, it was actually doubled and directly deposited into her bank account ending in 8892.] Reading that message, I was so angry I laughed out loud. She used my money to prepare for our wedding, while using her own secret bonuses to buy a luxury apartment for her toyboy? Amazing, Wendy Sheppard! That afternoon, I requested a half-day leave from my boss. Based on the property reviews Zach had upvoted and the riverside view he occasionally showed off on social media, I managed to pinpoint the apartment's exact location within two hours. It was in Riverside One, one of the most exclusive and expensive high-end residential complexes in the city. I parked my car in a discreet spot across from the entrance, put on my sunglasses, and quietly monitored the vehicle traffic in and out of the residential complex. I didn't rush to confront Wendy, nor did I throw a tantrum on social media. Until I had gathered evidence powerful enough to deliver a fatal blow, any premature emotional outburst would simply alert them and backfire foolishly. At 4:30 PM, a familiar black car slowly cruised out of the residential gates. It was Wendy's car, the license plate number of which I knew by heart. I immediately started the engine and followed at a safe, unnoticeable distance. After turning through a few streets, the car finally pulled into the underground parking garage of an upscale private maternity hospital in the downtown area. Sitting in my car, I watched Zach step out from the driver's seat. He was dressed in a well-tailored casual outfit today, his hair neatly and crisply styled. He briskly walked around to the passenger side, carefully opened the door, and thoughtfully shielded the roof with his hand to protect the passenger's head. Shortly after, a foot wearing flat shoes stepped out. Wendy. She wore a loose maternity dress layered with a knitted cardigan. Her pregnancy was not yet showing. In other words, she was less than four months along. Zach immediately held her waist to support her. Wendy naturally leaned into his embrace, tilting her head up to offer him a gentle, affectionate smile. Zach bent down and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. Chapter 3 Witnessing this, I felt as though my heart was being ruthlessly clenched by an invisible hand, leaving even my breath tasting of blood. Four months. Four months ago was precisely when I proposed to Wendy, when we exchanged engagement rings in front of our families and friends. By day, she accepted my proposal, weeping as she told me, "Terrence, I will be faithful to you my whole life." By night, she was crawling into Zach's bed, conceiving the crystallization of their love. I pulled out my phone, adjusted the focal length, and clearly captured every frame of them embracing and kissing, along with Wendy's hand instinctively protecting her belly. Flashes of our past conversations echoed in my mind. I was career-driven and it was a critical period in my career, so I had explicitly stated early on that I wouldn't consider having children for the next five years. At the time, Wendy had taken my hand, her eyes filled with complete acceptance. "Terrence, I love you for who you are. Whenever you want children, tell me, and I'll be ready. Focus on building your career; I'll be your strongest pillar of support." As it turned out, that wasn't acceptance at all. It was simply because Zach had already fulfilled all the fantasies she desired, offering daily sweet-nothings, catering to her every whim, and giving her a baby. She wanted me—a high-earning, high-profile sales star—to be her fiancé to preserve her social standing and share her economic burdens. Simultaneously, she also wanted Zach's constant, meticulous pampering, wanted his baby and wanted to be waited on. I coldly watched them step toward the elevator lobby, then pushed open my car door and followed them inside. The VIP waiting area of the private hospital was quiet and serene, with few people around. Keeping my mask and cap on, I sat down on a couch diagonally behind them, holding a maternity magazine as a cover. "Wendy, did the baby kick you again today?" Leaning against Wendy's shoulder, Zach gently pressed his hand against her belly, his voice soft and warm. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Wendy's eyes radiated a soft, maternal glow. "I don't care. As long as it's our baby, it's precious to me." "Then... what about Terrence?" Zach suddenly let out a sigh, his tone dripping with grievances and guilt. "You're getting married next month, and the wedding invitations have already been sent to my former department's group chat. It hurts me so much to see this, Wendy. Maybe I should just leave. I don't want to be the third party who ruins someone else's relationship..." As he spoke, his eyes turned red, and he lowered his head to mask his emotions. "Nonsense!" Instantly stricken with pity, Wendy tightened her grip on his hand. She lowered her voice, a trace of suppressed irritation bleeding into her tone. "I've been with Terrence for seven years. The passion has long faded. "That man has eyes only for work and promotions. He's so overbearing and completely neglectful of me. I feel suffocated when I'm with him. It's only when I'm with you that I truly feel like a woman who's needed." Stroking Zach's hair soothingly, Wendy offered a solemn promise, "Don't worry, my mom has long been frustrated with Terrence's refusal to prioritize me. I'll find a chance in the next few days to break up with him. "The wedding will be canceled. The luxury apartment will serve as your compensation, and I'll hand over my entire salary to you to manage." "Really? You're so good to me, Wendy!" Zach broke into a relieved smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Listening to this jaw-dropping display of affection from behind them, I almost laughed out of sheer disbelief. Years ago, her business venture failed and she was left saddled with $300,000 in debt. I stayed with her, eating plain pasta for an entire year. I went out day and night to meet clients and drank until I suffered gastric hemorrhaging, all to help her pay off that debt. Back then, why didn't she complain that I was overbearing? 'Now that she has achieved success, she finds me neglectful of her?' I put down the magazine and walked over to them, my steps unhurried and steady. The crisp tapping of my leather shoes sounded exceptionally loud in the quiet waiting area. Wendy was peeling an orange for Zach when, hearing the approaching footsteps, she instinctively looked up. The moment her eyes locked onto the person standing before her, the orange slipped from her hands, dropped to the floor with a soft thud, and rolled away. "T-Terrence?" Following her gaze, Zach looked up as well. The second our eyes met, he shrank back in terror and instinctively hid behind Wendy. He stared at me as if he had just seen a ghost. Looking down from my height at this despicable pair, I didn't make a scene, nor did I launch into a hysterical interrogation. Instead, I slowly pulled off my mask, the corners of my mouth curving into an expression of utter iciness tinged with a hint of mockery. "Fancy seeing you here, Wendy." Scanning my eyes over Wendy's and Zach's hands on her belly, my tone remained spine-chillingly calm. "Here for a prenatal check-up with my former coworker? Should I reserve a seat for your baby at our wedding banquet next month?" Chapter 4 A dead silence fell over the waiting area, the air seemingly freezing into blocks of ice. Wendy jolted to her feet, the sudden movement causing her to knock over the chair beside her. She instinctively reached out to grab me, only for her hand to freeze mid-air the moment her eyes met my freezing gaze. "Terrence... I can explain, it's not what you think..." Wendy's voice sounded hoarse, as if she had swallowed a mouthful of sand. Her usually composed face was entirely drained of color and overwhelmed with panic. "It's not what I think? Then what is it?" I chuckled softly, leisurely casting a gaze over her old sunflower-mended jacket, my eyes brimming with ridicule. "Did he faint from low blood sugar right in front of your car, only to conveniently climb into your bed later? Were you wearing the jacket I mended while cooking for him in his luxury apartment?" The moment those words dropped, Wendy's face turned sheet white. She stared at me in absolute horror, clearly caught off guard by the fact that I even knew about the luxury apartment. Nearby, Zach's eyes reddened as he hurriedly stood up. Adopting a pitiful and aggrieved expression, he looked toward me. "Bro, please don't be mad at Wendy. All the fault is mine. I couldn't help falling in love with her. I know I'm unworthy of her, so I'll leave right now. I promise I won't interfere with your relationship..." As he spoke, he deliberately faked a stumble, falling precisely into Wendy's arms. "Zach, watch out!" Wendy instinctively hugged him, then raised her head, a flash of resentment suddenly surfacing in her eyes. "Terrence, if you have a problem, take it out on me! Zach is a kind man, so stop mocking him!" Looking at this tragic pair of star-crossed lovers, I found the entire spectacle absurd beyond words. "Who do you think you are? Why would I bother taking it out on you?" Taking a step back as if wishing to avoid coming into contact with something filthy, I glared coldly at Zach. "And you—stop calling me bro. We're not on such good terms. Your anonymous post was quite well-written. 'The one who's not loved is the third party', huh?" Zach's face stiffened, his eyes widening in terror. He was so shocked that he forgot to keep faking feeling aggrieved. "Since you're so bravely pursuing true love, allow me to grant your wish." I pulled out a piece of paper from my bag. It was the joint bank account statement I had printed out earlier in the car. I flung it at Wendy's face. The sharp edge of the paper grazed her cheek before fluttering down to the floor. "I'll treat the seven years I wasted on you as a costly lesson." Staring straight into her eyes, I enunciated each word clearly. "The wedding is canceled. Tomorrow at 9:00 AM, my lawyer will be in touch with you. The money that belongs to me, don't even think you can keep a single penny. I will recover the debt you owe me, principal and interest alike, down to the very last cent." I turned around and strode out of the hospital with my back straight, not looking back once despite Zach's ashen face and Wendy's desperate cries behind me.