Chapter 2

After leaving the company, I did not rush to the subway station to endure the heavy rush hour traffic.

Instead, I turned around and walked into the VIP-exclusive elevator nearby, pressing the button for the top floor.

The moment the elevator door closed, I took out my phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh, Malcolm. No, no, no. I should be calling you Mr. Lewis."

A booming voice came through the phone. He was George Wilson, the property manager of this building, the Goldmill Building.

"How's it going? Done playing ordinary for a while?"

"Yes." I watched the elevator numbers rapidly changing, my tone calm, "I was laid off. The reason was a lack of competitiveness and inability to create value for the company."

George roared on the other end, making my ears buzz, "What? Which damn company was stupid enough to do that? How dare they fire you?

"You just finalized the paperwork yesterday to make this entire building your personal property. They have no idea who they're messing with.”

"It's okay, Mr. Wilson. Calm down." I stepped out of the elevator and stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor, overlooking the bustling city below.

"Peak Performance Media is in Suite B on the 16th floor, right?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Fred Waller's company. That b*stard's three months behind on management fees. He keeps whining about being broke, saying they're preparing for an IPO and that the money will come soon. I think the whole company's a sham."

I laughed. It was indeed a sham. They even laid me off to save 15,000 dollars in year-end bonuses.

"Mr. Wilson, could you check when their lease expires?"

"One moment. Found it. Oh, what a coincidence? It was supposed to end at the end of the year, but they requested a one-month extension on their rent payment, claiming they were waiting for year-end receivables.

"The contract states that if they don't renew or fail to pay on time, we have the right to reclaim the property — with no liability on our part."

"What's the date today?"

"28th December."

"Perfect." I gazed at my own reflection in the window glass. I was wearing a cheap hoodie, carrying a backpack stuffed with toilet paper, and cradling a money tree that had lost half its leaves.

I certainly looked like a total loser.

Who would have guessed that this building, valued at several billion, now belonged to me?

I instructed, "Mr. Wilson, send out a notice. Peak Performance Media is in serious breach of their lease agreement; they've failed to pay both rent and property management fees.

"They're holding their annual gala tomorrow at 10am, aren't they?

"Even better; everyone will be there. Bring the security team and a technician to cut the power. We're going to give Mr. Waller a big surprise."

After hanging up, I felt a wave of satisfaction.

On my way home, I stopped by a lottery shop downstairs and bought a scratch ticket. I did not win, but that did not dampen my good mood.

I had just arrived home when my phone started buzzing incessantly with WhatsApp notifications.

It was the company group chat.

Of course, I was no longer in it, but that did not matter when I had a mole in there.

Alexis sent me a few screenshots via private message.

Group Name: Wolf-Pack Team: Peak Family (127 members)

Boss Fred: [@everyone Guys, despite the tough economy, we've streamlined our workforce and optimized our company structure. Negative influences like Malcolm have been let go.]

Boss Fred: [This isn't just about saving money; it's about keeping our revolutionary team pure. Those who remain are the company's family and wolves ready to conquer new territory alongside us.]

HR Jessica: [Brilliant, Boss. Giant babies like him who clock out the second the workday ends should have been let go a long time ago. Everyone, be on your best behavior at tomorrow's annual gala; Boss has a surprise in store for you all.]

Sales Director Hugh Lorden: [I fully support the company's decision. Let's kick off tomorrow's annual gala with a big team rally. We'll push for an IPO next year!]

Alexis sent a meme of a cat with teary eyes.

[Malcolm, they're so out of line! You've been doing the work of three people — handling admin, logistics and even fixing their computers.]

I replied with a comforting head-pat emoji.

Malcolm: [It's alright, Alexis. Just make sure to sit far away from the stage at tomorrow's annual gala.]

Alexis: [Huh? Why? I heard there's going to be a big lucky draw tomorrow!]

I smiled and replied: [Because the stage might just collapse tomorrow.]

After sending the message, I tossed my phone aside and grabbed a soda from the fridge.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow was going to be quite the spectacle.