He Vetoed My Promotion for the New Girl Chapter 06

He Vetoed My Promotion for the New Girl Chapter 06

Graham got home almost right behind me.

I shut the door, but he caught it with one hand. His eyes were dark with anger as he stared at me.

“Elara, haven’t I told you not to use that to threaten me?”

Graham hated those words.

His parents had once argued about splitting up during a trip.

They’d died in the car accident that followed, and five-year-old Graham was abducted in the chaos.

When we were deeply in love, he’d kissed the corner of my lips and said softly, “Elara, we’ll never break up.”

But he’d been the one who changed.

He was the one who pulled away first.

“I’m not threatening you. I meant it. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“All this over not getting promoted?”

Irritation flashed across his face.

“It’s just a tiny manager title. Why do you care so much?”

“A tiny manager title…” I couldn’t help laughing.

Everything I’d been holding down came surging back.

My eyes burned and my voice shook.

“Right. A tiny manager title. But after five years, I still couldn’t get there.”

“Was my work not good enough? Was I not qualified enough?”

“Want me to show you every medical record from the times I worked myself into the hospital?”

“Do you know what people say?”

“They say I’m working to the bone and still stuck at the bottom.”

“They say the projects are just an act-that all I really wanted was to get into your good graces.”

“But every project I’ve done is real. Anyone can check.”

“I worked this hard because I was waiting for the day we’d go public.”

“I didn’t want people saying you played favorites or that I used you to climb the ladder.”

“But I was wrong. That day isn’t coming.”

“The person who really refused to see me was you.”

“Mr. Thorne, how does that vote power feel?”

Graham’s breathing caught. Then he composed himself.

“Yes. I was the one who used my vote power to reject you.”

“People at the company were starting to talk about us. I had to shut it down before everyone started thinking they could get promoted just by getting close to me.”

“What about Mira?”

He rubbed his forehead.

“I told you. Don’t make up things.”

“She’s outgoing and gets along well with people across different departments. Putting her in that position will help everyone work together.”

“If I gave the role to you, could you handle it? You know how things are between you and your coworkers.”

It felt like someone had slapped me across the face.

My cheeks burned. The humiliation I’d kept buried was finally laid bare.

So he’d known I’d been pushed to the sidelines at work.

And he’d chosen to look the other way.

But he was the reason I’d been put in that position in the first place.

He was the source of my humiliation.

I let out a quiet laugh.

So a heart really could be broken over and over again.

I didn’t realize I was crying until a warm tear landed on the back of my hand.

His hand suddenly rested on top of my head.

“Alright. Stop crying. I’ll make it up to you with better projects.”

“There’s a regional manager opening next year. I’ll give you that one too.”

“No.”

I quickly wiped away my tears and stepped back, avoiding his hand.

“Give it all to Mira. I’ve already-”

Graham’s phone rang.

He glanced at me before answering it right in front of me.

“Mr. Thorne, there’s something on the project sheet I can’t quite figure out. Could you walk me through it?”

Graham glanced at his watch.

“Sure. Give me five minutes.”

He hung up and let out a heavy breath.

“Stop being stubborn. Mira’s just a regular employee.”

“Once things settle down, we’ll get married. We’ll invite everyone from the company.”

“Now go get some sleep.”

The study door closed.

The night was quiet.

His voice carried clearly through the door as he patiently walked Mira through the project.

I suddenly remembered the times I’d gone to Graham for help with project problems.

What had he told me back then?

“Elara, if I help you, it’s not fair to everyone else.”

I took one last look at the study, then shut my bedroom door and locked it.

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