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"But I have heard a saying: 'If you repay evil with good, what do you repay good with?'"
"You are a family of vipers. I will never forgive you."
"Get off this stage. Get out of my sight. Get as far away from me as you possibly can."
The family tried to cling, to wail, to argue, but my father simply gestured. Security swiftly and firmly escorted the kneeling, protesting trio off the stage and away from the platform.
That day, I was a new star rising. The gazes fixed upon me were filled with awe and envy. It was a stark revelation: this was what it felt like to have parents who protected you.
After the company retreat ended, I joined my parents at Seabreeze Holdings.
Each morning, I worked on the ground floor, learning the business from the bottom up.
Each afternoon, I attended university classes, filling the gaps in my formal education.
The beginning was incredibly difficult. But I persevered.
Within six months, I had grasped foundational knowledge.
Three years later, I entered the company's management structure and started leading my own project teams.
One project focused on food delivery. Having been a delivery driver myself, I knew the hardships intimately. I was driven to build a better, fairer model.
After six months of intense work, we saw promising initial results.
To celebrate, I organized a special team-building event just for the department members.
Among them were former colleagues from my delivery days. Sharing drinks and reminiscing with these old friends, the conversation inevitably turned to Sophia Laurent.
"It's easy to get used to luxury," one remarked, shaking his head. "Hard to go back once you've tasted it."
"Because of Mason back then," another chimed in, "Sophia got that department manager role. Crazy salary, insane bonuses every month."
"Losing that job, that income stream... she couldn't handle it."
"Heard she latched onto some small-time businessman," a third added.
"Turned out he was married. His wife found out... threw acid."
"Nearly didn't make it off the operating table. Face is... ruined."
"And her mother?" someone asked.
"After that retreat?" the first colleague snorted. "Lost her mind completely. Genuinely. Wanders around muttering."
"Her dad went back to their village," another supplied. "Everyone knew what happened. Pointed fingers, whispered. He just... shriveled up inside. Died of depression, folks say."
The talk turned to Richard Chamberlain.
"He had it good," someone noted. "Big apartment in Seabreeze – what, 200 square meters? Kid in some fancy private academy."
"Losing that job? Boom. Mortgage payments, insane school fees... life got tight real fast."
"Sure, he got severance, but it didn't last. Things just kept getting worse."
"In his old social circle?" another scoffed. "Became a ghost. Nobody wanted the stink. Got pushed right out."
"Couldn't take the pressure in the end," the first concluded quietly. "Jumped. That's the word."
Later, as my colleagues dispersed back to their hotel rooms, I stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window of my suite.
The city lights of Seabreeze glittered below.
Each person pays the price for their choices.
Ambition, untethered from integrity, often leads only to ruin.
I raised my glass, a silent toast against the reflection in the glass.
To myself.
And a solemn vow echoed within:
Guard your principles. Always.
