Chapter 3

Rachel and I were the only ones left in the conference room.

Instead of sitting at the head of the table, she had decided to take the seat across from me.

At just 29 years old, Rachel had turned Stellar Technologies from a company with barely a dozen employees into one with more than 300. She typically had the final say in everything around the office.

I rarely interacted with her one-on-one. She was a busy woman, and I was too occupied with helping her company make money.

"I'll look into Eric's conduct, Zachary," she told me.

Sliding a glass of water toward me, she continued, "For now, get the system back online."

I didn't touch the glass of water.

"You can't fire me and then ask me to come back to fix your problems, Ms. Scott."

Rachel pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'll admit it. The company handled your situation incredibly poorly."

"I wouldn't use the word poor. I'd call it unethical."

"Fine. We'll call it unethical."

I was surprised by how quickly she gave in.

Afterward, she placed a blank sheet of paper on the table and said, "Name your terms."

"I don't want to," I replied.

"Why not?"

"I'm worried you'll accuse me of extortion."

She glanced at me and said, "I'm not Eric."

I laughed. "I don't know if I can trust you. You capitalists look pretty much the same in suits."

Rachel fell silent. A brief moment later, she said, "Zachary, I'm not in the mood for petty banter."

"Well, I am."

After taking a deep breath, she explained, "If Stormshield remains offline for more than two hours, our partner banks will declare it a breach of contract. Stanford Capitals will find out about this before the end of the night."

"Okay."

"The company has enough funds to keep us afloat for another three months. If we lose the Series C contract, the company will have to lay off employees. Many people could lose their jobs."

I met her gaze and said, "Don't try to appeal to my sense of responsibility, Ms. Scott. While I was fixing bugs at 3:00 am, Eric was popping champagne for his girlfriend in a bar."

Rachel's expression shifted. "His girlfriend?" she asked.

"Oh, you didn't know?" I asked.

Leaning back in my chair, I went on, "His girlfriend is Amanda Linfield from the procurement team. This year, Stellar Technologies has signed contracts with three new outsourcing vendors—and all three of them are owned by Amanda's uncle. Their prices are 30% higher than the market rate, and their code looks like garbage."

As Rachel's expression darkened, I added, "I had also proposed documenting Stormshield's intellectual property ownership the previous month, but Eric brushed me off. He told me I was only a temporary contractor and had no right to discuss such matters with the company."

"Do you have any evidence?" Rachel asked.

"I do."

"Hand it to me," she instructed as she stretched out her hand.

I laughed.

"Ms. Scott, I'm not an employee of this company anymore."

Her hand froze in midair.

I met her gaze and declared, "I can help you save the company, but I won't do it for free."

Rachel's face lit up. "State your terms."

I held up three fingers. "First, I want a public apology. I don't want some meaningless email. I want the apology to be issued in a company meeting, and I want you to address the matter yourself," I said.

"That can be arranged," she replied, nodding.

"Second, I will require compensation for three years of unpaid wages, lost benefits, and unpaid overtime. I want everything to be calculated using the highest salary tier for a senior systems architect."

"That can also be arranged."

"Lastly, I want Stormshield to become an independent subsidiary of Stellar Technologies. I'll offer the intellectual property in exchange for a 35% ownership stake."

Rachel didn't answer immediately.

After all, 35% was a big ask. However, I wasn't in a hurry.

As I casually took a sip of water, she looked at me and made me a counteroffer. "20%."

"Goodbye."

When I stood up, Rachel got to her feet as well.

"25% plus the position of Vice President of Technology," she offered.

As I made my way toward the door, her voice grew louder. "30% and a seat on the board."

When I placed my hand on the doorknob, the sound of hurried footsteps rang out from the other side of the door.

Then, the door swung open, and Eric marched in with an excited look on his face.

"Ms. Scott! Martin Cadwell from Stanford Capitals is here," he announced. "He says they have a backup risk management solution that can replace Zachary's system!"

Frowning, Rachel asked, "Who told you to contact Stanford Capitals?"

Eric ignored her and flashed me a smug smile. "Do you really think that the company can't survive without you, Zachary?" he taunted.

Eric stepped aside, and a man in a gray suit walked into the conference room.

Amanda followed closely behind him. Holding onto the man's arm, she smiled at me and said, "Don't get too full of yourself, Mr. Carter."

Martin Cadwell, the man in the gray suit, placed a document on the table.

"Ms. Scott, once you sign these authorization documents, Stanford Capitals will be able to take over your risk management system as soon as tonight."

As Martin's words fell, Eric turned toward me and spat, "You can get lost now."