They Replaced Me With an Intern, Now They’re Begging
I was the firm’s star. The one they called for the impossible cases. My latest miracle? The “Titan Project” patent case.
I made the firm a billion dollars.
My cut was supposed to be a two-million-dollar bonus.
But today, a fresh-faced intern waltzed off with it.
I thought payroll had made a mistake and stormed straight into the senior partner's office.
“Preston. My two-million-dollar bonus. Tell me there’s been a mistake.”
Preston didn’t even bother to look up. “Victoria, I’ve looked into it. We won this case because of Chloe’s client management.”
“She was schmoozing clients. Late-night golf games. Weekend yacht parties. While you were what, exactly?”
“You never showed your face outside the courtroom. Teamwork is everything.”
I almost laughed. It was absurd.
“She’s a rookie who can’t even recite the rules of discovery.”
“Enough!” Preston cut me off. “The firm doesn’t make mistakes. I see what everyone contributes.”
“If you're not happy, you can prove your worth somewhere else.”
He tossed a severance agreement on the desk.
My heart went cold. I signed it on the spot.
Before I left, I got the last word. “Preston, next time the firm has a real fight on its hands, you’d better call your social butterfly, Chloe. Don’t bother me.”
He blew a perfect smoke ring, smirking right through it. Unfazed.
Soon later, my phone blew up.
It was him. Begging me to come back and save his ass.