Chapter 5: The Sweetest Resignation

The results arrived at 6:47 AM on Thursday morning, forty-one hours after Leo had walked out of the examination hall. He'd been awake for twenty minutes, nursing his first cup of coffee and mentally preparing for another day in Amanda's corporate maze, when his phone chimed with an email from the Ministry of Economic Development.

His hand trembled slightly as he opened the message, three months of suppressed ambition crystallizing into this single moment. The subject line was sterile and bureaucratic: "Examination Results - Candidate #23."

"Dear Mr. Vance,

We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully passed the Senior Analytics Position examination with a score placing you in the top 5% of candidates. We would like to extend an offer for the position of Senior Economic Analyst, Grade 7, with an annual salary of $135,000 plus benefits package as outlined in the attached documentation.

Please respond within 72 hours if you wish to accept this position. Start date is flexible but preferred within 30 days.

Congratulations on your exceptional performance.

Sincerely, Director Sarah Chen Ministry of Economic Development"

Leo read the email three times before the reality fully sank in. He'd passed. Not just passed—excelled. The position that would triple his salary and catapult his career was his for the taking. Amanda's midnight threat had failed spectacularly.

He set down his coffee cup with exaggerated care, as if sudden movements might shatter this moment of perfect victory. The woman who had called his opportunity "inadequate" and threatened his career over it had just been proven catastrophically wrong.

But the sweetest part was yet to come.

Amanda Sterling returned from her three-week Maldivian paradise that very Thursday, her skin bronzed and her demeanor radiating the smug satisfaction of someone who believed she'd successfully crushed a subordinate's rebellion. Leo watched from his cubicle as she swept through Section 7's open office space, her heels clicking against the polished floor with military precision.

She'd gained a slight tan that made her power suits seem even more imposing, and her smile carried the cold satisfaction of a predator returning to survey her territory. Leo caught fragments of her conversations with other team members—casual mentions of beachside restaurants and sunset cocktails, delivered with the casual cruelty of someone flaunting privileges while her employees had struggled under proxy management.

"Morrison," she called to Craig, who immediately scurried over with the desperate eagerness of someone who'd spent three weeks terrified of making the wrong decision. "Conference room. Five minutes. I want a full briefing on what happened while I was handling urgent business."

Urgent business. Leo almost laughed at the euphemism.

At 10:30 AM, Amanda's assistant knocked on Leo's cubicle partition. "Ms. Sterling wants to see you in her office."

Leo saved his work with deliberate slowness, then walked across the office space with the measured pace of someone who knew exactly what was about to happen. Amanda's corner office felt smaller than he remembered, the floor-to-ceiling windows that had once impressed him now seeming like the bars of an expensive cage.

Amanda sat behind her mahogany desk, a stack of papers arranged before her with theatrical precision. Her expression was that of a principal preparing to discipline a wayward student—stern disapproval mixed with barely contained satisfaction.

"Leo," she began, her voice carrying the false warmth that had fooled him during his interview. "I trust your little examination went well on Monday?"

The condescension in "little examination" was perfectly calibrated to sting. Amanda had no idea she was about to walk into an ambush of her own making.

"It did, actually." Leo settled into the chair across from her, his tone conversational. "Thank you for asking."

Amanda's smile sharpened. "Good, good. Now, we need to discuss your performance while I was away. Craig mentioned some concerning incidents regarding your attitude toward company policies."

She opened a folder—probably prepared during her flight home, Leo realized—and began extracting documents with prosecutorial flair. A printout of his overtime request. Craig's nervous notes about their conversation. Even a copy of her midnight text message.

"Specifically," Amanda continued, "your insistence on prioritizing personal activities over professional responsibilities. The remote work request that was clearly inappropriate for someone at your level."

Leo watched her performance with genuine fascination. She'd choreographed this entire encounter, timing her return to maximize the psychological impact of his perceived defeat. The midnight text had been just the opening move in what she believed would be his total demoralization.

"I want to be very clear about expectations going forward," Amanda said, leaning forward with practiced intensity. "Aethel Corp invests significant resources in our employees, and we expect unwavering commitment in return. Outside pursuits that interfere with core responsibilities are simply unacceptable."

She paused, clearly expecting him to show signs of capitulation—perhaps an apology, or at least defensive justifications for his actions. Instead, Leo reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a single sheet of paper.

"Before we continue," he said, placing the document on her desk, "I should mention that I have something for you."

Amanda glanced down at the paper, and Leo watched her expression shift through several stages of confusion before settling on something approaching shock. It was his formal resignation letter, typed on professional letterhead and dated that morning.

"I passed," Leo said, his voice carrying the false cheer that Amanda had perfected during his interview. "The examination you called inadequate? I scored in the top five percent. Got a much better offer."

The silence stretched between them like a taut wire. Amanda stared at the resignation letter as if it were written in a foreign language, her carefully prepared script suddenly useless.

"You... what?" she managed.

"One hundred thirty-five thousand annually," Leo continued, settling back in his chair with genuine enjoyment. "Grade 7 position at the Ministry of Economic Development. Quite a step up from the career dead-end you've created here in Section 7."

Amanda's face went through a fascinating series of micro-expressions—shock, rage, calculation, and finally something approaching panic. The subordinate she'd believed she'd successfully cowed had just revealed himself as the architect of his own liberation.

"Your two weeks' notice starts today," Leo added helpfully. "I know how important proper procedures are to you."

Amanda's training kicked in, and she attempted to regain control of the situation. "Leo, let's not be hasty. I'm sure we can discuss some adjustments to your current role. Perhaps additional responsibilities, maybe even a small salary increase—"

"Oh, that's very generous," Leo interrupted, his tone dripping with the same false gratitude she'd used on him. "But I'm afraid the Ministry position is just too good to pass up. You understand how important career advancement is."

The barb hit home. Amanda's jaw tightened as her own interview promises were thrown back at her with surgical precision.

"Besides," Leo continued, "you made it very clear that my professional development was a distraction from core responsibilities. I'd hate to continue being such a burden on the department."

Amanda's mask finally slipped, revealing the cold fury beneath her corporate facade. "You can't just walk away from your commitments here. We invested time in training you, integrating you into our systems—"

"Much like you invested in supporting my professional growth?" Leo asked with mock innocence. "Or the way you invested in being available when your team needed managerial decisions?"

Each word was carefully chosen to highlight her hypocrisy. Amanda had positioned herself as the victim of his disloyalty while her own behavior had been the textbook definition of managerial malpractice.

The intercom on Amanda's desk buzzed, and her assistant's voice filled the room: "Ms. Sterling? HR is asking about the new hire requisition for the Systems Analyst position. They need to know how urgent the replacement search is."

Amanda's eyes widened with a new realization. In her focus on disciplining Leo, she'd momentarily forgotten the practical implications of his departure. Section 7 was already operating with a skeleton crew due to recent retirements, and Leo's position was critical to several ongoing projects.

Leo stood up, smoothing his jacket with exaggerated care. "I should probably get back to work. After all, I want to make sure everything is properly documented for my replacement. Wouldn't want to leave the department in a difficult position."

As he reached the door, Amanda found her voice again. "Two weeks, Leo. You'll work your full two weeks, and you'll maintain professional standards throughout."

Leo paused at the threshold, turning back with the same practiced smile Amanda had used during his interview. "Of course. I'm nothing if not professional."

He left Amanda sitting behind her mahogany desk, staring at his resignation letter like evidence of a crime she couldn't quite comprehend. The woman who had tried to crush his ambitions with a midnight text message was now scrambling to figure out how to function without him.

As Leo walked back to his cubicle, he could hear Amanda's voice through her office door, already on the phone with HR. The panic in her tone was music to his ears.

The game had shifted, and Amanda Sterling was finally beginning to understand that she'd been playing against an opponent who was several moves ahead of her thinking.

But Leo's real masterstroke was still to come.