Chapter 1

I wanted to prove myself on my own merit, so I hid my family background and took an internship at our own company.

Instead, my manager made my life a living hell.

I tried to keep my head down and avoid drama, but she only got bolder. She stole my work, took all the credit, and even started a rumor that I was trying to sleep with the CEO.

Finally, I told the truth. "He's my brother. I'm not seducing anyone."

She threw her head back and laughed in my face.

"Just a cheap little whore trying to play innocent!" she sneered. "If Ethan Vance is really your brother, why don't you call him down here? Go on, have him fire me!"

I looked down, a cold smirk touching my lips.

Be careful what you wish for.

"Apex Group Annual Marketing Strategy. Authors: Linda Perez, Mark Davis."

I stared at the projector screen, my fingertips turning ice-cold.

I had pulled three all-nighters for this proposal. From market research to competitor analysis, every single chart and data point had been crunched by me.

Now, my name had been completely erased. In its place were the names of Linda Perez, my direct supervisor, and Mark Davis, our department head.

"This proposal is thorough, and the feedback from Apex has been exceptional," Mark said from the head of the conference table, nodding with immense satisfaction. "Linda, incredible work leading your team through all that overtime to get this done."

Linda smiled, lifting her coffee cup gracefully. "Just doing my job, Mark. Anything for the team."

She looked polished, humble, and poised—as if she really were the one who had survived on three hours of sleep over four days.

I sat in the dim corner of the room, my hands clenched into tight fists under the desk. My fingernails bit deep into my palms until they went numb.

When the meeting wrapped up, everyone began trickling out in small groups.

A coworker clapped Linda on the shoulder. "Brilliant deck, Linda. You crushed it."

"Thanks so much," Linda beamed. As her gaze brushed past me, the corner of her mouth twitched into a smug, mocking smirk.

The message was clear: *What are you gonna do about it, little girl?*

I didn't say a word. I went back to my laptop, copied the original drafts, raw spreadsheets, and revision history onto a flash drive, grabbed the printed file, and marched straight into Linda's office.

She was leaning back in her chair, scrolling through TikTok with her legs crossed, a fresh latte steaming on her desk.

When the door clicked, she didn't even bother looking up.

"Linda, I wrote the Apex proposal," I said, dropping the heavy folder onto her desk. "Why isn't my name on it?"

Linda finally glanced up, her eyes flicking across the pages before she let out a dry, condescending chuckle.

"Interns do the legwork, supervisors take the credit. That's how corporate America works, sweetie." She tossed her phone aside and rested her chin on her hand. "Besides, I edited several pages."

"You changed the font size and adjusted the line spacing," I said, locking eyes with her. "I built the entire framework from scratch. I ran all the numbers. You didn't write a single word."

Linda's smile vanished instantly.

She picked up the thick stack of papers and hurled it straight into my face.

Sheets of paper scattered everywhere, fluttering across the floor like wounded birds.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She shot to her feet, glaring down at me. "You're a dime-a-dozen intern. Your job is to fetch coffee, run errands, and shut your mouth. Don't flatter yourself."

I crouched down, gathering the scattered papers one by one, smoothing out the wrinkled edges.

"This is my work. I have the right to be credited."

"Rights?" Linda burst out laughing, as if hearing the punchline to a ridiculous joke. She stepped out from behind her desk, stopping inches from me. Her heavy perfume hit my nose.

"Let's get one thing straight, little girl. Who runs this department?" She jabbed a manicured red nail hard into my shoulder. "If I say it's your work, it is. If I say it's mine, it's mine."

I gritted my teeth. "You can leave my name off, but you don't get to slap yours on it."

Linda's eyes turned predatory. The amusement vanished, replaced by pure venom.

"Push this any further, and I'll make sure you don't even get your internship sign-off," she hissed. "One note from me saying 'insubordinate and unprofessional,' and your college credits are gone. Good luck finding a job anywhere in this city."

My chest heaved.

Seeing my silence, Linda smirked, assuming she had won. She strutted back to her leather chair and picked up her latte.

"Now get out. And close the door behind you."

I stayed rooted to the spot.

"I wrote that pitch," I said, my voice steady. "And I'm not letting this go."

Linda froze, her cup hovering halfway to her mouth. She slammed it down, her voice dropping to a harsh snap.

"Do you speak English? Get the hell out."

Out in the open-plan office, several coworkers pretended to type frantically at their keyboards. Not a single person dared to meet my eye.

I stood outside her glass door, clutching the battered folder in my arms.

*Fine, Linda.*

*You can steal my credit today.*

*But you can't erase the digital footprint.*