He remembered every time Brad had said, “Don’t CC me next time, it clutters my inbox.” Every time, he’d been made to book Brad’s flights, fetch his coffee, or rewrite his half-baked ideas. The injustices stacked neatly in his mind like slides in a presentation titled Reasons He Deserves This.
By the time Ethan got home, any trace of guilt had dissolved completely—like sugar in espresso. What was one more unethical act in a company that rewarded the unethical daily? He wasn’t breaking the rules. He was just playing the game the way Brad taught him.