Chapter 4

On the other end, Johnson seemed not yet awake, mumbling an "mm-hmm,"

"I knew you'd still be determined to go home."

"That's why I refunded your ticket for you. Focus on the reception—that's what matters."

My voice changed pitch with anxiety, tears suddenly pouring out,

"Johnson, do you know Grandma fell! She's in the hospital! I have to go back immediately!"

The other end was silent for two seconds, then came a short, sharp laugh,

"Laura, when did you learn to lie to me like this?"

"To go home, you'd even make up an excuse about Grandma being sick?"

"I'm not lying! It was Kingsley who..."

"Enough."

He impatiently cut me off,

"Stop making a scene. Get ready for the reception. I was entertaining clients until midnight—I haven't even slept yet."

But before the call disconnected, I clearly heard a woman's lazy, soft murmur.

Tears splashed onto the screen, blurring everything.

I spun around anxiously in the airport lobby, opening all the ride-hailing apps with trembling hands.

Back to my hometown—nearly three hundred kilometers.

I kept increasing the offer, from two hundred to five hundred, then to eight hundred...

The system kept displaying "No drivers available."

In desperation, I called Johnson again, wanting to beg him to drive me back.

But the phone rang twice before being rudely disconnected.

Immediately after, a message popped up, cold in tone:

[Going to entertain clients soon. Don't bother me. Handle the reception yourself.]

But that woman's profile showed the latest update:

Johnson had taken her to see a movie, then to a trendy restaurant that required reservations half a year in advance.

He was attentive to her every need.

But he ignored me completely.

I bit my lip, suppressing the sourness in my eyes.

I first transferred money to Kingsley, asking her to take good care of Grandma.

Suffering until afternoon, Kingsley video-called me.

On the screen, Grandma lay in the hospital bed, her face a bit pale but her spirits still good.

She tried hard to smile at me, wrinkles bunching together,

"Laura, Grandma's fine. The doctor says I can go home in a couple days."

"Focus on your work. Don't make a special trip back."

Watching her forced smile, my throat ached with sourness. I could only nod vigorously, unable to say a word.

After hanging up, I opened the ticket booking app again and unexpectedly managed to book a ticket home for January 5th.

My fingertip paused. A plan slowly formed in my mind.

On January 3rd, I put away all my emotions.

Following Johnson's requirements, I meticulously received Bob from KING Group and his wife.

Throughout, I smiled warmly, was thorough and considerate, without a single mistake.

Johnson was very satisfied with my performance.

He proactively messaged saying he'd reimburse my ticket home.

[See, it's not that I don't want you to go back, otherwise I wouldn't have specifically reimbursed you.]

[Keeping you a few more days is all for our company, so we can live well in the future.]

I didn't reply with a single word, just accepted the payment.

On January 5th, ticket in hand, I boarded the plane home on time.

Arriving at the county hospital, I stayed by Grandma's side every moment, carefully attending to her.

During these days, Johnson sent a few sporadic messages.

Ostensibly asking about Grandma's health, but actually urging me to return to the company soon.

I treated them all as if I hadn't seen them. He wasn't in a rush either.

After all, in the past, no matter how badly we'd fought, I'd always come crawling back to him in the end.

Unfortunately, this time his calculations were wrong.

It wasn't until ten days later that I finally returned to the company at his repeated urging.

As soon as I entered the office, he coldly rapped on the desk,

"So many days late. No perfect attendance this month. According to company policy, your wages will be docked too."

I smiled indifferently.

I pulled a sheet of paper from my bag and slapped it on the desk with a "smack,"

"I'm resigning."

"Also, all my overtime pay, performance bonuses, and year-end bonuses from these years—pay them all."

The paper crinkled in his grip.

He stared at the number at the bottom for a few seconds, then laughed out loud,

"Three million six hundred forty thousand? Laura, even throwing a tantrum has limits."

Seeing my serious expression, his face gradually darkened,

"You really want to resign? Fine by me. Does the company stop functioning without you?"

"But this money—don't expect to get a single penny."

Before he finished speaking, the office door burst open. His assistant rushed in, face ashen,

"Johnson, this is bad!"

"All last year's partners say they're terminating cooperation, and Bob who we met with before New Year's also says he won't sign the contract!"