Five days later, I returned to Eastern Horizon Capital.

This time, no security guard came to escort me out.

Three assistants were waiting in the lobby.

One held an umbrella.

One carried a leather folder.

The third approached me with a smile so careful it was almost painful.

—Ms. Su, welcome. The board is waiting upstairs.

I looked at the revolving doors I had crossed five days earlier carrying a paper bag.

Same lobby.

Same marble floor.

Different role.

Mia had insisted on coming with me.

When the receptionist saw us, she nearly dropped the visitor badges.

—Miss Su…

I smiled.

—Today I’m not an employee.

She swallowed.

—Of course.

The elevator opened.

On the seventeenth floor, Marcus Doyle was waiting.

His face changed the moment he saw me.

—Laura?

I walked past him.

—Director Doyle.

He stepped after me.

—What are you doing here?

Before I could answer, the legal director of Northstar came forward.

—Ms. Su is here for the strategic investment meeting.

Marcus frowned.

—As an interpreter?

The lawyer looked at him strangely.

—As the controlling beneficiary of Northstar Global Holdings.

Silence.

It was almost beautiful.

Marcus stared at me.

Then at the lawyer.

Then back at me.

—That’s impossible.

I kept walking.

—You said the same thing about my non-compete clause.

When the boardroom doors opened, every senior executive at Eastern Horizon was already seated.

Carlos Chen stood immediately.

Rachel Zhao was beside him with a presentation remote in her hand.

And across the table sat Harrison Reed.

The moment he saw me, his expression changed.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

He stood.

—Miss Su.

I shook his hand.

—Mr. Reed.

Marcus entered behind me.

—There has to be some misunderstanding.

The chairman of Eastern Horizon, Victor Liang, looked annoyed.

—What misunderstanding?

Marcus pointed at me.

—She was dismissed last week.

Victor looked at him.

Then slowly looked at me.

—You fired Ms. Su?

Nobody answered.

Harrison leaned back in his chair.

—In the middle of my negotiation.

Victor’s face hardened.

Carlos finally spoke.

—It was an internal personnel decision.

I took my seat.

Not at the side.

At the center of the Northstar delegation.

My nameplate read:

LAURA SU
CONTROLLING BENEFICIARY
NORTHSTAR GLOBAL HOLDINGS

Rachel stared at it for several seconds.

Then her eyes dropped.

Victor cleared his throat.

—Ms. Su, perhaps we should begin with today’s agenda.

I opened the funding proposal.

—Nine hundred million yuan.

Everyone straightened.

I turned to page twelve.

—Eastern Horizon is requesting strategic financing for overseas expansion.

—Correct, Carlos said quickly.

—And TechCore is expected to become your core American technology partner.

—Correct.

I looked at Harrison.

—Is that partnership confirmed?

The room became silent.

Harrison folded his hands.

—No.

Carlos’s face changed.

—Mr. Reed, we already reached substantial consensus.

Harrison looked at him.

—We reached substantial confusion.

Nobody moved.

He continued:

—Your new interpreter changed three legally material terms.

Rachel turned pale.

Marcus intervened.

—Those were minor linguistic differences.

I looked at him.

—Would you like me to explain them?

He stopped.

I opened my old notebook.

The same notebook I had removed from the table five days earlier.

—Clause eighteen.

I read the original English phrase.

Then the Chinese version Rachel had provided.

—Your translation converts a best-efforts obligation into an absolute performance guarantee.

I turned the page.

—Clause twenty-four changed the legal entity responsible for after-sales liability.

Another page.

—Clause thirty-one misidentified the jurisdiction for dispute resolution.

Harrison smiled faintly.

—Exactly.

Victor looked at Marcus.

—Why didn’t anyone report this?

Carlos answered before him.

—We believed the issues could be corrected.

—By whom?

Silence.

I looked at Rachel.

She looked ready to cry.

I didn’t enjoy it.

She had accepted work she wasn’t ready for.

But Marcus had been the one who handed it to her.

So I asked him directly.

—Director Doyle, why was I dismissed before a negotiation you knew depended heavily on technical interpretation?

His jaw tightened.

—Personnel restructuring.

—No.

I slid a document across the table.

Northstar’s legal team had obtained the internal HR timeline during due diligence.

My dismissal request.

Submitted seven days before the negotiation.

Recommendation author:

Marcus Doyle.

Supporting performance review:

Carlos Chen.

The problem?

My official performance rating had been “Outstanding” for three consecutive years.

Marcus’s dismissal recommendation described me as:

“replaceable support personnel with limited strategic value.”

Harrison actually laughed.

—Limited strategic value?

Marcus’s face reddened.

I continued.

—You also reassigned my fourteen-day dossier to Rachel and removed my authorship.

Rachel whispered:

—I didn’t know they removed your name.

Marcus turned sharply.

—Rachel.

She flinched.

Then something unexpected happened.

She stood.

—I’m sorry, Ms. Su.

The room went quiet.

She opened her laptop.

—Director Doyle told me the material had been created by the department.

Marcus snapped:

—Sit down.

Rachel didn’t.

—I also have the original email.

Marcus went still.

She connected her laptop to the screen.

An email appeared.

From Marcus.

To Rachel.

Use Laura’s preparation materials. Remove personal annotations that identify her authorship. After the transition, you will be presented as the lead interpreter for the TechCore account.

Victor’s face changed completely.

Carlos whispered:

—Marcus, what the hell did you do?

Marcus looked at Rachel as if she had betrayed him.

But she wasn’t finished.

—There’s more.

She opened another email.

This one was from Carlos Chen.

Proceed with termination before TechCore closes. If Laura remains until signing, it will be difficult to justify transferring the account afterward.

I stared at Carlos.

So that was it.

They hadn’t fired me despite the negotiation.

They had fired me because of it.

They wanted the account without me attached to it.

Victor slowly removed his glasses.

—Carlos.

Carlos immediately said:

—Chairman Liang, this is being taken out of context.

I closed the proposal.

—Context is exactly what Northstar evaluates.

Then I looked at Harrison.

—Mr. Reed, does TechCore still intend to cooperate with Eastern Horizon?

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at me.

—That depends.

—On what?

—Who leads the negotiation.

Carlos leaned forward.

—We can assign another senior interpreter.

Harrison shook his head.

—No.

Then he said the sentence that changed the room.

—TechCore will continue only if Ms. Su leads the cross-border negotiation personally.

Marcus stared at him.

—She’s no longer employed here.

Harrison’s expression remained calm.

—I know.

He turned toward me.

—Which means she can represent Northstar.

Nobody spoke.

The irony was perfect.

Five days ago, Marcus had ordered me away from this table because I no longer belonged to Eastern Horizon.

Now that was precisely why I could sit at the opposite side.

I closed the funding file.

—Northstar’s preliminary decision is simple.

Every executive leaned forward.

—We will not approve the nine-hundred-million-yuan investment today.

Carlos went pale.

Victor’s fingers tightened around the table.

I continued:

—We are placing Eastern Horizon under a thirty-day governance review.

Marcus stood.

—You can’t do that over a personnel dispute!

I looked at him.

—This isn’t about me.

I slid four documents forward.

—Your overseas division has overstated projected contract revenue.

Another.

—Three executive incentive payments were charged to project development expenses.

Another.

—And someone altered the TechCore risk report before it reached your board.

Victor grabbed the final document.

—Who authorized this?

The room went silent.

Then the door opened.

A Northstar investigator entered.

He placed a sealed evidence envelope in front of me.

—Ms. Su, we recovered the approval trail.

I opened it.

Marcus looked nervous.

Carlos looked worse.

But the name on the authorization wasn’t either of theirs.

I stared at it.

Then slowly looked at Victor Liang.

His face had gone white.

Because the person who had approved the altered risk report was his daughter.

Emily Liang.

Eastern Horizon’s hidden majority beneficiary.

And the woman who had secretly been funding Marcus’s department for three years.

Victor stood.

—This meeting is over.

I didn’t move.

—No.

He looked at me.

For the first time, the chairman of Eastern Horizon looked afraid.

I turned the page.

There was a second transfer record.

From Emily Liang.

To a private consulting company.

Owner:

Marcus Doyle.

Thirty-two million yuan.

Harrison leaned back.

—Interesting.

Marcus’s face drained of color.

I looked at him.

—Director Doyle, I think it’s finally time you explain why firing an interpreter was worth thirty-two million yuan.

Before he could answer, my phone vibrated.

A message from Northstar’s legal department.

I opened it.

One sentence.

We found the true beneficial owner behind Marcus Doyle’s consulting company.

I tapped the attachment.

And froze.

The registered beneficiary wasn’t Marcus.

It was someone I knew.

Someone who had recommended me for my first job seven years earlier.

Someone I had trusted completely.

Mia.

I slowly raised my eyes.

She was sitting two seats behind me.

Her face had gone completely still.

And suddenly I understood.

My dismissal had never been about Rachel.

It hadn’t even been about Marcus.

Someone had spent years making sure I remained useful…

but never powerful enough to discover who was really profiting from my work.