Sabotage in the Shadows

12

Ethan

I pushed open the door to Samantha's office, forcing myself to calm down before stepping inside. Samantha, my boss, sat behind her massive oak desk, her piercing gray eyes scanning a file. She was a statuesque woman in her early forties, with sleek blonde hair tied in a low bun and a sharp suit that screamed authority. Everything about her, from her meticulously manicured nails to her intimidating presence, radiated control.

“Morning, Ethan,” she greeted without looking up. Her voice was clipped but professional.

“Morning, Samantha,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral as I took a seat across from her.

She finally looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're late."

I stiffened but managed a curt nod. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not. Punctuality is key, Ethan. You know that,” she said, flipping through the papers in front of her. "Now, let’s get started. I need updates on the Markham project. Are the numbers finalized?"

I cleared my throat, pulling out my notes. “Yes, the projections have been reviewed, and I’ve adjusted the budget based on the latest feedback. I believe we’re in a good position to present to the client tomorrow.”

Before Samantha could respond, the door swung open. Jonathan strolled in, his smirk already in place. He wore a navy blazer with his tie slightly loosened, as if he couldn’t be bothered to look entirely professional.

“Ah, Jonathan,” Samantha said, her tone noticeably warmer. “Good timing. Take a seat.”

Jonathan plopped into the chair next to me, flashing a grin that made my stomach churn. “Wouldn’t miss it, Samantha. Someone’s got to make sure things run smoothly around here.”

I clenched my jaw, gripping my pen a little too tightly as Samantha continued. “Jonathan, we’re discussing the Markham project. Ethan was just giving his updates.”

“Oh, Ethan’s on it?” Jonathan drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Interesting choice. Hope you’re not cutting corners again.”

I shot him a glare, my frustration bubbling. “The numbers are solid. If you’d bother to read the reports, you’d know that.”

Jonathan chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Ethan. Just looking out for the team.”

“Enough,” Samantha interrupted, her tone sharp. She turned her attention back to me. “Ethan, go on.”

I resumed, though Jonathan’s smug expression lingered in my peripheral vision. As I laid out the details, he didn’t miss a chance to interject.

“Wait, those figures don’t align with the preliminary data,” Jonathan said, tapping the table. “Did you cross-check the client’s input?”

“Yes, I did,” I replied tersely. “The adjustments were based on—”

“Because it’d be a shame if we had to redo everything last minute,” he added, cutting me off. “You know how messy Ethan’s work can be sometimes.”

My fists tightened under the table. “It’s not messy, and if you’d stop interrupting, I could explain—”

“That’s enough,” Samantha snapped, her voice slicing through the tension. She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “Ethan, if there’s an issue with the figures, it falls on you. I expect perfection, especially this close to the client meeting.”

My mouth fell open. “But I double-checked everything! Jonathan hasn’t even—”

“I don’t want excuses,” she said coldly, cutting me off. “Fix it.”

Jonathan’s smirk grew wider, and I could feel my blood boiling. He leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for me to hear, “Tough break, buddy.”

I turned to him, my anger threatening to spill over. “You—”

“Ethan!” Samantha’s voice snapped my attention back to her. “Focus. I don’t have time for petty squabbles.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to take a deep breath. “Understood,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Good,” she replied, already looking back at her files. “Both of you are dismissed. Ethan, I want those updates by the end of the day.”

Jonathan stood, clapping me on the shoulder as if we were old friends. “Don’t worry, Ethan. I’m sure you’ll get it right. Eventually.”

I jerked away from his touch, glaring at him as he sauntered out of the room. Samantha didn’t even glance up as I left, my frustration weighing heavy on my chest.

Outside, Clara caught my eye, her sympathetic smile doing little to ease the knot in my stomach.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“Not even close,” I muttered, storming past her.

I needed to focus, but the humiliation and anger gnawed at me. Jonathan might’ve won this round, but I wasn’t about to let him keep the upper hand.

I marched back to my desk, gripping my pen so tightly it felt like it might snap in my hand. Jonathan’s smug face lingered in my mind, his mocking words playing on repeat.

As I settled into my chair, an email notification popped up on my screen.

**Subject:** *URGENT: Markham Project Files*

**From:** Samantha L.

Frowning, I clicked it open.

**Ethan,**

**The Markham team forwarded me a set of figures that conflict with yours. I expect an immediate explanation. See attached.**

Conflicting figures? My stomach dropped. I’d double- and triple-checked everything before submitting the report. Quickly, I downloaded the file and scanned the contents.

The numbers were a disaster. Errors I’d never input were scattered throughout, and a glaring red message at the top read: *Budget Overrun – 30%.*

"This doesn’t make sense," I muttered to myself, leaning closer to the screen.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

I turned to find Jonathan standing by my cubicle, arms crossed and that irritating grin plastered across his face.

“What do you want?” I snapped, my patience already wearing thin.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, nothing. Just checking to see how the ´star employe’ is doing.”

I clenched my jaw, anger bubbling beneath the surface. I knew he was behind this. It had to be him. He’d been hovering around my desk too much lately, always with some flimsy excuse. But knowing it and proving it were two different things.

“You sabotaged the files, didn’t you?” I said, keeping my voice low but firm.

Jonathan’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mock innocence. “Sabotaged? That’s a bold accusation, Ethan. Got any proof to back it up?”

My hands curled into fists under the desk. He knew I didn’t. And he was enjoying every second of it.

“You’re pathetic,” I said through gritted teeth.

Jonathan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Face it, Ethan. You’re out of your league. Samantha’s just waiting for a reason to kick you out. I’m just... giving her one.”

I glared at him, my blood boiling, but he straightened up and strolled away before I could respond.

For a moment, I just sat there, staring at my screen. My heart was pounding, and my thoughts were a jumbled mess. I wanted to march into Samantha’s office and tell her everything, but without evidence, I’d look like I was trying to shift blame.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the chair back and stood up. If I couldn’t prove he tampered with my files, I needed to focus on damage control.

---

Samantha’s office was as intimidating as ever, with its sleek glass walls and minimalist décor. She barely glanced up from her screen as I knocked and stepped inside.

“What is it, Ethan?” she asked, her tone clipped.

I set my laptop on her desk, pulling up the spreadsheet. “I wanted to address the issue with the Markham files. I didn’t input those errors—someone tampered with them.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, then at the screen. “Tampered? By who?”

I hesitated, knowing how it would sound. “Jonathan. I know it was him. He’s been trying to undermine me for months.”

Samantha sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Do you have proof?”

“No,” I admitted reluctantly. “But I know—”

“Then this conversation is over,” she cut me off, her voice firm. “I don’t have time for baseless accusations. What I do have time for is solutions. Fix it, Ethan.”

Her words hit like a slap, but I forced myself to nod. “Understood.”

As I turned to leave, Jonathan walked in, his timing impeccable. He sauntered over to Samantha’s desk and dropped a file onto it with exaggerated casualness.

“Here’s the update on the Greenway account,” he said smoothly, casting a sideways glance at me. “I noticed there were some discrepancies with the Markham files earlier. Thought I’d lend a hand and review them for you.”

My jaw clenched, and Samantha raised an eyebrow, glancing between us.

“Is that so?” she said, her tone skeptical.

Jonathan nodded, his grin widening. “Of course. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

I could feel my blood boiling, but Samantha’s attention shifted back to me. “Ethan, I need results, not excuses. Get back to your desk and fix this mess.”

Her dismissal stung more than I wanted to admit. I shot Jonathan a glare before turning on my heel and leaving the office, my mind racing with ways to expose him.

---

Back at my desk, I stared at the screen, trying to focus on fixing the numbers. But my thoughts kept circling back to Jonathan. He’d won this round, but the game wasn’t over yet.