Former Intern's Revenge

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.