My Bully Mocked Me in Front of the CEO So I Destroyed Her in Seven Languages Chapter 20

My Bully Mocked Me in Front of the CEO So I Destroyed Her in Seven Languages Chapter 20

That night, Caleb got back from Korea.

He drove straight to my place.

“Come down.”

“What for?”

“Just walk with me.”

I went down.

The December air was biting, and the streetlights stretched our shadows long against the pavement.

“I watched the documentary,” he said.

“And?”

“It doesn’t do your work justice. The director was mediocre at best.”

“Don’t do that. Zane is a pro.”

“But your segments were incredible. In every interview, you weren’t just translating words. You were translating soul.”

“My dad used to say that if you understand a man’s mother tongue, you understand his heart.”

“You nailed it.”

We walked for a long time until we hit the riverbank.

A thin sheet of ice had formed on the water, catching the fractured light from the lamps.

“Hazel.”

“Yeah?”

“East Ridge is launching an International Cultural Exchange division next year. Docs, publishing, exhibits, the whole nine yards. I need someone to run it.”

“Another recruitment pitch?”

“Not a pitch. I’m building a throne specifically for you.”

The day I resigned from GTS, Joseph personally walked me to the door.

“Hazel, you are the most undervalued employee in the history of this firm.”

“Mr. Harrison, you were the one who gave me the shot.”

“You earned it yourself.” He shook his head. “By the way, that thing I said in German at the gala…”

“The seventy percent raise?”

“You caught that back then, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Then why…” He sighed. “Good luck with everything, Hazel.”

“Thanks.”

I took one last look at the GTS building.

Three years, eighty grand, an entry-level desk.

My dues were paid. That road was finally at its end.

The International Cultural Exchange division at East Ridge officially launched.

I was the director.

Project one: “The Porcelain Trail: An International Exhibition of Ancient Porcelain on the Silk Road.”

The core of the show was the forty-plus pieces my father had scavenged from every corner of the globe.

I spent three months in high gear.

The exhibit opened simultaneously in New York, Berlin, Dubai, Istanbul, and Paris.

I personally translated every word of the exhibit copy into the local tongues.’

New York got English, Berlin got German, Dubai got Arabic, Istanbul got French and English, and Paris got French.

Over three hundred people showed up for the opening in New York.

A few retired diplomats made it, too. Mr. Brooks stood in the gallery, tears streaming down his face as he looked at my dad’s handwriting on the tags.

“Jacob, look at her. Your girl has really made it.”