I stepped in.
Quietly.
I bought a stake through a small investment group.
We negotiated board seats. I wasn’t on the board, but I had a say. And access.
And a very clear picture of his performance.
Ryan thought all the whispers and delays around his “inevitable promotion” were politics. Bad luck. Jealousy.
He never once considered that the woman making him dinner had seen his last three quarterly reviews.
I drove home, went straight to the office, and pulled out a large, plain cardboard box.
I printed a few things from my secure email.
Slipped them into a crisp folder. Added the letter I’d already seen a draft of last week, waiting for one last signature.
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