“Look, Gary, I have more pressing things to deal with this morning than you,” I say, crossing my arms. “If you don’t mind, scurry away to your hole, vermin.”

He drops a folder on my desk. “I need you to work on that. Have it ready by noon,” he orders.

“I don’t report to you,” I push the folder.

He smirks. “Ms. Solis, I’m happy to inform you that, as of last Wednesday, I’m your new boss.”

He points to the office and says, “If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

“What?” I choke, my arms tremble. “The position won’t be decided until June.”

Gary shrugs. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation. I know I did. It was everything that I needed and more.”

With those words, he leaves me standing cold. I can’t breathe. Why did they do that? I’ve been working my ass off. Was it because I …?

Fucking Miller Archer, why did you do this to me?

I’m ready to scream. But instead, I do what I do best, mask the pain with anger, and march toward Devon’s office. Gary is right behind me.

Devon isn’t there, but I see posters of my work all around his office. There are a few things changed, and the cheesy tagline they are using is pitiful. When I turn around, I spot him.

“Ms. Solis, so nice of you to finally show to work,” Devon Evans says with a smirk. “I take you already heard the news about your new boss.”

“That tagline doesn’t fit,” I say, ignoring him.

“Well, you’ll have to take it to your boss and the creator of the campaign. If you wanted to be a part of the creative team, you should’ve sent the drafts as I requested.”

I frown. “Excuse me, but these are my ideas, and I did send my drafts.”

“This is what I was telling you, Devon,” Gary says, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to keep her?”

I turn to Gary and glare at him. “You stole my work again, didn’t you, weasel?”

“Ms. Solis,” Devon interrupts me. “You have to talk to human resources. The way we handle a case like yours is by immediate termination, but you’ve done so much for the company that we’re going to keep you under probation.”

Is he fucking kidding me?

I glare at Devon, heat flushes through my body as my heartbeat accelerates.

This can’t be happening, but they look so determined that I take this to Miller. If anyone is going to believe me, it’ll be him.

I storm through the halls, bag in hand. It’s their word against my evidence.

“Mr. Archer is busy,” his assistant says.

I glare at her and push the door open. His eyes meet mine and his lips draw a smile that fades almost as fast as it appeared.