Lin Yue sat at the head of the conference table, her fingers interlocked, her expression unreadable. Around her, the leadership team sat in tense silence. At the far end of the table, Jia Hao shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes flickering with guilt.
The weight of his betrayal pressed down on the room like a suffocating fog.
Zhang Wei sat beside Lin Yue, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Mei Lin, who had uncovered the truth, was stone-faced. No one spoke.
Finally, Lin Yue broke the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was an undeniable edge to it.
"Tell me why."
Jia Hao swallowed hard. "Lin Yue, I—"
"No excuses." Her eyes locked onto his. "Just tell me why."
Jia Hao let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. I—I was approached by someone from the competitor's camp. They offered me money, and I thought… I thought if I gave them something minor, it wouldn't hurt us."
Lin Yue clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain composed. "Something minor?"
Jia Hao nodded. "At first, yes. But then they kept asking for more. They wanted information on our strategies, our internal challenges. I told them I couldn't—so they threatened to expose me instead. That's when I panicked. I didn't know what else to do."
Zhang Wei's voice was sharp. "So you sold us out?"
Jia Hao looked down, shame washing over his face. "I messed up. I know that. But I didn't lie in my report to the journalist. I just… stretched the truth a little."
Lin Yue let out a slow breath, willing herself to stay in control. "So, you exaggerated problems, made us look worse than we are, and handed that to the media?"
Jia Hao nodded miserably.
Lin Yue's fingers drummed against the table as she processed his words. She had worked side by side with Jia Hao for years, trusted him with sensitive matters, leaned on him during difficult times. And he had betrayed that trust.
But this wasn't just about her personal feelings—this was about the company. About the people who depended on them.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them. Her decision was made.
"Effective immediately," Lin Yue said, her tone like steel, "you're terminated."
Jia Hao's eyes widened. "Lin Yue, please—"
She held up a hand, cutting him off. "You compromised our company's integrity. You damaged our reputation. And worst of all, you betrayed the trust of the people who believed in you."
Jia Hao looked desperate now. "I—I can fix this. I'll make a statement, I'll—"
"It's too late," Zhang Wei interjected, his voice cold. "You made your choice. Now, live with it."
Security was called to escort Jia Hao out. As he left, he turned back one last time, eyes filled with regret.
"I never wanted this," he said softly.
Lin Yue didn't reply.
As the door closed behind him, she finally let out the breath she'd been holding.
Mei Lin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You did the right thing."
Lin Yue nodded, but the hollow feeling in her chest remained.
Betrayal never left without leaving scars.
With Jia Hao gone, the team had to act fast to repair the damage.
Lin Yue called an emergency press conference.
She stood in front of a sea of reporters, cameras flashing, microphones waiting.
"I won't stand here and deny that mistakes were made," she said, her voice steady. "One of our own betrayed our trust. But we are taking full accountability, and we will ensure that this never happens again."
She outlined new security measures, transparency initiatives, and an open-door policy for employees to report ethical concerns without fear.
By the end of the conference, the narrative had shifted.
They weren't just a company dealing with scandal.
They were a company proving their resilience.