My Fiancé Fired Me and His Girl Took My Code Chapter 08

My Fiancé Fired Me and His Girl Took My Code Chapter 08

He paused for a second before blurting out, “I’ll give you $1.6 million-hell, $1.7 million-just come back.”

I looked at him, giving him a smirk that I knew would get under his skin.

“Luminary gave me 10% equity.”

He stiffened, his face draining of all color.

“10% of Luminary Technologies. A company with a ten-billion-dollar valuation. That’s a billion dollars.”

The more I spelled it out, the paler he got.

“So what happens to me? Is it really over?”

He collapsed into a squat, burying his head in his hands in total despair. I let out a soft sigh.

“There is one way.”

“What is it?”

He stared up at me, his eyes burning with the desperate hunger of a drowning man grabbing for a straw.

“Hire an outside team. If they work around the clock, they might be able to rebuild the scripts in a month.”

His face fell instantly.

“A month? I don’t have a month.”

“A month is the best-case scenario with a top-tier team-assuming you can even find one.”

He grabbed my pant leg, his voice dropping to a low plea.

“Valerie, name your price. Just come back and help me survive this. There are over a hundred employees here-they’re all going to lose their jobs.”

I gave him a look of practiced helplessness.

“Even if I came back, I couldn’t fix this overnight. The situation is too severe. Someone didn’t just delete data -they sabotaged the core architecture. That’s the only reason this happened so fast.”

He jolted. “Are you saying… there’s a mole?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say that. Go do your own investigation. Finding the source shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Even if I pulled my scripts, any decent IT person shouldn’t have been able to crash the whole system. Under normal circumstances, it would take at least a week for a security flaw to be exploited this badly.”

Gavin Mason’s face grew darker by the second.

“So, someone was trying to frame you?”

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t that stupid.

I’d suspected as much the moment Chloe Harris asked me what scripts I used to clear the logs.

He took a long, shaky breath.

“Fine. I’ll launch a full investigation. But Valerie, please, reconsider. Help me. Name your terms.”

“Do it for the hundred-plus employees here. I know I have no right to ask, but please.”

I nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

Truthfully, I never wanted to stand by and watch it burn. That system was my life’s work, and there were colleagues there I’d worked with for five years.

Even if some had enjoyed the show, they’d never actively stabbed me in the back.

They’d even defended me in the group chats against Preston and Chloe.

Over a hundred employees meant over a hundred families.

I’d do it for the karma.

But I still had to clear it with Julian Stein.

Since I was already officially with Luminary, taking on a massive side project like this wouldn’t stay secret for

long.

He didn’t object.

“Manage your own time. As long as your work here doesn’t suffer, do what you have to do. Just remember

one thing, don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

I felt a strange warmth in my chest. He didn’t tell me to “watch my reputation” or “be careful”.

He just reminded me not to get burned.

Being with the right person-it really does change the air you breathe.

Gavin called me that night.

“Valerie, you were right. Chloe was a plant from a rival firm. She was sabotaging the system on purpose. She

was the one who deleted the core data. I’ve called the police, and I’m pressing charges against her, and

Preston.”

“It was him who hired her in the first place. I suspect they were working together.”

“I doubt that. Preston was just being played.”

He sighed. “Valerie, is the data recoverable?”

I thought for a moment. “It’s possible. But it’s going to be a headache.”

“Will you come help me?”

I paused.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Have the entire tech department on standby.”

I could hear the cheer go up on the other end.

“No need for notice, Valerie. We’re all here.”

I smiled, grabbed my coat, and headed out.

When I arrived, Gavin and the entire tech team were waiting for me at the door.

I put business before friendship and pulled out the contract.

“It’s a one-off deal, so let’s keep it professional.”

He didn’t say a word, though his hand shook slightly when he saw the $10 million price tag.

He grit his teeth and signed it anyway.

He was losing more than that every single day.

I wasn’t even price-gouging. That ten million was for 32 modules of code, 17 custom scripts, and five years of proprietary labor.