Ethan looked up, studying the man who once made him fetch coffee and erase his name from slides. Brad’s collar was slightly wrinkled, his confidence deflated but not entirely erased. “Thanks, Brad,” Ethan said evenly. “I’ll let you know if I ever need a second pair of eyes.”
When Brad left, Ethan leaned back in his chair, smiling faintly. He opened the clean, factual presentation on his screen—without sabotage, or deception, just good work finally wearing his own name. For the first time in years, he didn’t need revenge. He’d already won.