I stared at the memo on Leo’s screen, my name glowing faintly, a spectral accusation from the past. My hands, usually steady, trembled slightly. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the weight of this new, terrible truth.
“He picked me,” I whispered, the words barely audible. “He targeted me.”
Leo nodded, his face etched with a quiet anger. “It looks that way, Mom. He wasn’t just waiting for an opportunity; he was actively creating one.”
My mind reeled, replaying every memory of my early days under Alistair. I had idolized him, admired his sharp intellect, his ability to inspire. He had presented himself as my champion, advocating for my ideas, giving me the space to develop the Orion Protocol. The personal cruelty of his facade now felt like a punch to the gut. Every compliment, every encouraging word, was now tainted.
“I thought he genuinely believed in me,” I said, my voice cracking. “I thought he saw my potential, truly wanted to mentor me.”
The misunderstanding had been profound. I had genuinely believed his initial interest was rooted in a desire to foster talent, to guide me as a promising young engineer. The memo, however, stripped away that comforting illusion, revealing a cold, calculating premeditation that transformed his mentorship into a predatory strategy. It wasn’t about fostering talent; it was about harvesting it.
“He talks about ‘strategic mentorship programs’ and ‘legal acquisition of intellectual contributions,'” Leo pointed out, tapping a finger on the screen. “This memo is essentially his playbook for how he intended to exploit people like you.”
The term “under-utilized” stung the most. It reduced my brilliance, my dedication, to a commodity to be harvested, my quiet nature perceived as a weakness to be exploited rather than a strength to be respected. It erased my individuality, transforming me into a nameless, faceless resource.
“This changes everything,” I murmured, my gaze fixed on the screen. The initial theft of Orion had felt like a sudden, brutal blow. This, however, felt like a slow, deliberate poisoning, a betrayal that had seeped into the very foundations of my career. The past dismissal, already painful, now felt infinitely more agonizing, knowing it was all part of a grand, deceitful scheme.
Leo closed the laptop, then placed a hand gently on my arm. “We need to find out more. This memo is evidence of his intent. But we need the smoking gun, something that connects this directly to Orion and that clause in your contract.”
My gaze met his. A flicker of hope, tenuous but persistent, ignited within me. This wasn’t just about vindication anymore. It was about exposing a systemic predator, ensuring he couldn’t do this to anyone else.
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