The Intern Who Forgot I Own the Company

The new intern, Vivian, reported me for slacking off for the third time:

Mr. Hayes said no one is allowed to eat snacks, drink water, or use their phones at their desks. You did all three, so you're getting fined three thousand dollarsa whole month's salary.

Looking at her young, refined face, I smiled.

With CEO Sebastian Hayes backing her, she ran rampant throughout the company.

But she didn't know that I was the largest shareholder.

What right did she have to report me?

My name is Laura, and I'm thirty-eight years old.

Ten years ago, I founded this interior design company.

Now I've stepped back from the frontlines, handing daily management over to CEO Sebastian Hayes, whom I personally promoted.

Sebastian was the successor I had the most faith in.

Now, I just kept a desk for myself in a corner of the office, with flexible work hours.

My colleagues only thought I was some powerless old-timer.

Until half a month ago, when Vivian appeared.

She was personally escorted into the design department by Sebastian.

"This is Vivian, an honors graduate from an Ivy League school. She'll be joining our design department from now on. Everyone, please help her get up to speed."

Sebastian's tone was full of admiration.

Vivian smiled as she greeted everyone, her gaze sweeping across the entire office.

When it finally landed on me, her eyes held scrutiny and contempt.

But from her very first day, she didn't act like an intern at all.

She complained the company-issued computer was outdated and demanded the latest model.

She complained the coffee beans in the break room weren't good enough, and the next day had a colleague go buy freshly ground Blue Mountain coffee.

When people whispered about it, she heard them and just smiled faintly:

"Mr. Hayes says good ideas need a good environment. We can't cut costs on these small things."

She really was quite clever.

She quickly gathered a group of young designers as arrogant as herself.

Toward us "old employees," she showed nothing but disdain.

In front of everyone, she said my design philosophy was "too outdated, can't keep up with the times."

She would also, during the director's project review meetings, bluntly point out "the color scheme is too old-fashioned, doesn't fit mainstream aesthetics."

At first, I didn't pay much attention. I even helped her once.

One time, there was an urgent project. Vivian volunteered, saying she could handle it.

But with only an hour left before the deadline, she'd only finished half.

She was nearly in tears. It was me who sent the design proposal to the client at the last moment.

She looked at me then, her eyes filled with gratitude and shock.

I thought that after this incident, she would at least change her attitude somewhat.

I was wrong.

The next day, I overheard her conversation with someone else.

"That Laura is nothing special. Just has a bit more experience, that's all."

The other person chimed in: "Exactly. I heard she's just an old employee coasting by. Relies on her seniority and slacks off at work all day."

Vivian laughed lightly, her tone full of superiority.

"Don't worry. The company won't keep supporting deadweight like that forever. Mr. Hayes said the future belongs to us young people. Those who can't keep up with the company's development will be eliminated sooner or later."

The "cleanup" targeting me began soon after.

First, the administrative department approached me with a tactful tone: "Ms. Laura, Mr. Hayes has recently been implementing a new attendance system requiring everyone to clock in strictly. Could you please...?"

In my ten years at the company, I'd never clocked in once.

This was one of my privileges as founder.

I looked at the conflicted administrative manager and nodded. "Alright, I understand."

The next day, HR called me in for a talk.

"Ms. Laura, a colleague reported that you browse websites unrelated to work during work hours. This... doesn't look very good."

I looked at the screenshot HR handed me. It showed me browsing a home design forum.

That was a habit I'd maintained for ten years to find inspiration.

"Who told you that?" I asked.

HR hedged: "Well... we're obligated to protect the reporter's identity."

"Fine. I'll be more careful in the future."

I didn't take it seriously.

But I underestimated Sebastian's indulgence of her.

A week later, the company issued a new "Employee Conduct Guidelines," hundreds of rules covering everything from how to arrange files on your desk, what cups to use for drinking water, to not being allowed to sleep at your desk during lunch breaks.

At the bottom was Sebastian's personal signature.

And the drafter of these guidelines was none other than Vivian.

Sebastian had promoted her ahead of schedule to CEO Assistant.

Her desk also moved from the design department's open floor to an independent partition next to the CEO's office.

From then on, she patrolled the company daily, notebook in hand, constantly recording what she deemed "violations."

Sarah was written up for taking a call when her child was sick.

Mark was publicly criticized for eating a sandwich at his desk while rushing a project.

The entire company was full of complaints. The work atmosphere became extremely oppressive.

And I became her primary target.

The first time was because I had a cactus on my desk.

"Ms. Laura, company policy states no personal items may be displayed in work areas. It affects the company's overall image."

The second time was because I used my personal laptop to handle private emails.

"Ms. Laura, company computers are for work only. If you need to handle personal matters, please do so after work hours."

The third time was today.

Because of a glass of water, a plate of crackers, and me using my phone to check feedback from the homeowner of a project we'd just completed.

She stood before me, looking down like a judge.

"Three thousand dollar fine, deducted from this month's salary. Do you have any objections?"

I looked at her and slowly turned my phone screen toward her.

It showed a thank-you letter from the homeowner, specifically praising the entire project team, including her as an intern.

"I was working," I said.

She glanced at it and sneered. "Don't make excuses. Everyone knows you slack off during work hours all day and talk back to your superiors. What do you think the company should do with you?"

"Talk back to my superiors?" My gaze moved past her to scan the entire design department. "I'd like to ask everyone herewho exactly is my superior?"

Dead silence.

Vivian's expression turned ugly.

She hadn't expected that not a single person would stand up to support her.

She bit her lip and stubbornly said:

"My position is Executive Assistant to the CEO, responsible for supervising all employees. Of course I'm your superior! If you don't accept it, you can go find Mr. Hayes!"

"Good idea." I nodded and picked up my phone. "I'll call him over right now."

A chorus of sharp intakes of breath rippled through the room.

Everyone thought I'd lost my mind. An old employee "coasting by" actually daring to challenge the CEO's authority.

Vivian's face lit up with a victorious smile.

Ignoring her expression, I found Sebastian in my contacts and dialed.

The phone rang twice before connecting.

"Hello?" Sebastian's voice was steady as always.

"Sebastian, come to the design department."

My tone was calm, without honorifics or unnecessary explanation, as if giving instructions to a subordinate.

There was a second of silence on the other end, then: "Alright, I'll be right there."

I hung up and gently placed my phone on the desk.

Vivian crossed her arms and sneered. "Playing games. Let's see how you handle this when Mr. Hayes gets here."

I said nothing, just pulled out my chair, sat back down, and looked at her leisurely.

In less than three minutes, Sebastian's tall figure appeared at the design department entrance.

As the manager I'd personally promoted, he now carried a sufficiently powerful presence.

The air in the entire office became even thinner.

Vivian immediately rushed up to him, her tone filled with grievance and complaint.

"Mr. Hayes, you're finally here! Laura openly violated company regulations, eating and playing on her phone at her desk. I fined her three thousand dollars according to the new system, but not only did she refuse, she talked back to me, and even dared to call you directly! She has absolutely no respect for you or company rules!"

As she spoke, she shot me challenging glances from the corner of her eye.

Sebastian's gaze fell on me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

His expression was compleximpatience, scrutiny, and an emotion I couldn't quite read.

Over these three years, he'd become more and more like a competent businessmancalm and decisive.

"Laura, what's going on?" he asked, his voice cold and emotionless.

I raised my eyes and met his gaze calmly.

"Just like Vivian said. I drank half a glass of water, ate one soda cracker, and looked at my phone for three minutes."

I paused, picked up the plate of crackers from my desk, and pushed it toward him.

"Mr. Hayes probably doesn't know that I have hypoglycemia. I had administration specially stock these at the office for me."

"As for the phone," I waved the screen, "Mr. Williams from Willow Creek Properties just posted a thank-you letter in the group chat and said he wants to refer us a new client. I wonder if that counts as playing on my phone?"

Sebastian's expression darkened.

Seeing this, Vivian immediately added fuel to the fire.

"Mr. Hayes, don't listen to her excuses! Company rules are company rules. We can't make exceptions for one person! She's relying on seniority to challenge your authority! If you don't punish her severely today, how can we enforce company policies in the future?"

I knew that in the three years since Sebastian had taken over the company, what he most wanted to do was prove himself, escape my shadow, and establish his own absolute authority.

Vivian's appearance was just a knife he was using to reorganize the company and eliminate "dissenters."

Sure enough, Sebastian's gaze turned completely cold.

He looked at me and said word by word:

"Rules are rules. Since they've been set, everyone must follow them. Laura, as a senior employee of the company, you should set an example. Vivian was following protocol. She did nothing wrong."

"So?" I asked.

"So, the three thousand dollar fine stands. Additionally, you publicly defied a superior and refused to comply with management. This month's bonus is completely canceled. Write a thousand-word self-criticism and submit it to my office tomorrow morning."

Sebastian delivered his final judgment, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

The office was completely silent.

Everyone was shocked by this outcome.

This wasn't just punishmentit was humiliation.

Vivian's face showed undisguised triumph and satisfaction.

I looked at this man I had once trusted completely.

The last bit of sentiment in my heart dissipated in this cold verdict.

I sneered:

"Sebastian, what if I don't write it?"

"Then submit your resignation yourself." He said without courtesy.

"Fire me? Sebastian, are you certain you have that authority?"

"As the company's CEO, don't I have the authority to fire an employee?"

My attitude had angered him, and his voice rose several notches.

"It seems after three years as CEO, you've forgotten whose company this really is." I said mockingly.

Sebastian's pupils contracted sharply.

The smile on Vivian's face froze as well.

I turned to face all the employees:

"I'm now notifying you in my capacity as founder and chairman of DreamBuildSebastian Hayes, and Vivian, you're both fired."