Look what affirmative action dragged in. Did you even graduate high school? The words sliced through the pristine silence of Prestige Financial Group’s marble boardroom. Senior manager Derek Williams didn’t bother looking up from his phone as he slid the intern paperwork across the table. The gesture was deliberate, dismissive.

Maya Chen Washington, 24, sat perfectly still in her Target blazer. Her worn leather portfolio rested on her lap. Around the table, six other interns shifted uncomfortably. Dererick reached for his coffee mug, then seemed to stumble. The ceramic cup tumbled, sending scalding liquid across the mahogany surface toward Mia’s feet. Oops. His smile was razor thin.

Might want to clean that up before the real meeting starts. Mia’s hands remained steady as coffee soaked her resume. Deep in her portfolio, a black American Express Centurion card caught the morning light. Have you ever been judged so completely wrong that your silence became

your greatest weapon? 9:15 a.m. 8 hours and 45 minutes until board meeting. The digital clock on the wall seemed to mock Maya as Derek Williams continued his performance. He leaned back in his leather chair, addressing the other interns like she wasn’t there. Now that we’ve covered the basics, let’s discuss what real investment banking looks like.

His eyes flicked toward Maya. Some of you might find this challenging. Jennifer Walsh, a blonde intern from Yale, giggled behind her manicured hand. She discreetly angled her phone toward Maya, the Tik Tok live stream already gathering viewers. The notification sound pinged softly. Maya opened her worn notebook and began writing.

Each word Derek spoke, each snicker from the other interns. the exact timestamps. Her handwriting remained steady, elegant, the kind taught at Swiss finishing schools. Derek assigned tasks with theatrical precision. Jennifer, you’ll shadow our merger and acquisition team. Brad, you’re with corporate restructuring. His finger stopped at Maya.

And you coffee runs, filing, basic administrative support. We’ll see if you can handle that level of responsibility. The other interns exchanged glances. Jennifer’s live stream chat exploded with laughing emojis and fire symbols. Watch this diversity higher struggle. She whispered to her phone. Maya stood without protest. As she moved toward the door, Dererick’s voice followed her.

Maya, right? Like that ancient civilization that collapsed. His smile was predatory. How fitting. She paused at the doorway, turning back with calm eyes. Actually, Maya means illusion in Sanskrit. Sometimes things aren’t what they appear to be. The comment hung in the air as she left. Derek’s expression flickered. Confusion then dismissal. 10:30 a.m. 7 hours and 30 minutes remaining.

The executive assistant, Patricia Hayes, barely looked up when Mia approached her desk. Coffee orders are on the board. Make sure you get everyone’s preferences right. We don’t tolerate mistakes here. Maya studied the list. 12 different orders, each more complex than the last. Derek’s was circled in red.

Double shot espresso, oat milk, exactly 140°. Don’t screw this up. While waiting at the coffee shop downstairs, Ma’s phone buzzed. The screen showed Washington Holdings quarterly report ready for review. She glanced around then quickly silenced it. A text followed. Maya, your 6 p.m. presentation materials are prepared. Should I have James set up the conference room? Executive assistant.

She deleted both messages and focused on the coffee orders. Back on the 47th floor, Maya distributed drinks with quiet efficiency. When she reached Derek’s office, she knocked softly. Finally. He didn’t look up from his computer. Set it down and get out. I have real work to do.

As Maya placed the cup on his desk, she noticed his screen. Email threads with subject lines like diversity problem and lowering standards. Her photographic memory captured the sender names, timestamps, conversation threads. Something wrong? Derek’s voice was sharp. No, sir. Is there anything else you need? Yeah, stay out of my

way. 11:45 a.m. 6 hours and 15 minutes remaining. Maya found herself assigned to the copy room, a windowless space filled with industrial printers and filing cabinets. Other employees passed by, some offering sympathetic glances, others openly staring. The elderly janitor, Mr. Rodriguez, wheeled his cart past the doorway.

He’d worked these floors for 15 years, invisible to most executives. But when he saw Maya organizing files with mathematical precision, he paused. You okay, Miha? Maya looked up, surprised by the kindness. I’m fine, thank you. I’ve seen a lot of interns come through here. Most quit after the first week. His weathered hands adjusted his cleaning supplies.

You’re different. Before Maya could respond, Jennifer Walsh appeared with her phone still recording. Still here? I honestly thought you’d given up by now. The live stream now showed 1,200 viewers. Comments flooded the screen. She’s trying so hard. This is painful to watch. Someone help her.

Maya continued organizing documents. Each paper was placed with deliberate care, as if she were handling million-dollar contracts instead of copy room filing. “My followers think you should maybe consider a different career path,” Jennifer continued. “Something more suited to your background.

” “What background would that be?” Ma’s voice remained level. Jennifer’s smile faltered slightly. “You know, more practical, less academic. Mr. Rodriguez stepped closer, his protective instincts flaring. The girl’s doing fine work. Maybe mind your own business. Jennifer rolled her eyes and walked away, phone still streaming.

Her viewer count had jumped to 2,000. 12:30 p.m. 5 hours and 30 minutes remaining. Lunch break brought no respit. Maya sat alone in the cafeteria picking at a sandwich while reviewing her notes. Around her, clusters of employees whispered and pointed. Derek’s voice carried from a nearby table where he entertained three department heads. Honestly, I don’t know what HR was thinking.

We’re running a business, not a charity. His audience chuckled appreciatively. The girl can barely handle coffee orders. How’s she supposed to understand complex financial instruments? Department head Sarah Chen, no relation to Maya, nodded along. The board’s pressure for diversity hiring is getting out of hand. We need qualified candidates, not social experiments.

Mia’s pen moved across her notebook. Names, quotes, witnesses, a precise record of systematic discrimination. Her phone vibrated with another message. Board meeting moved to 6:00 p.m. sharp. All materials ready. Will you need the private elevator, James? She glanced around the cafeteria, then typed back, “Regular elevator is fine.

Maintaining cover until tonight.” At a table across the room, Jennifer was still live streaming, her phone propped against a water bottle. The chat was now filled with betting odds on how long Maya would last. But hidden in the far corner, someone else was watching. Security guard Marcus Thompson had worked building security for 8 years.

He recognized Maya from somewhere, though he couldn’t place where. Something about her calm confidence in the face of humiliation seemed familiar. His shift supervisor approached. “Everything quiet up here.” “Yeah,” Marcus replied, still studying Maya, just keeping an eye on things. The clock on the cafeteria wall ticked toward 100 p.m. 5 hours until Maya’s real purpose would be revealed.

1:15 p.m. 4 hours and 45 minutes remaining. The afternoon brought fresh humiliation. Derek had assembled what he called an educational demonstration in the main conference room. 23 employees crowded around the glass table, including the three department heads and several junior associates eager to curry favor.

Today, we’re going to review basic financial concepts,” Derek announced, his eyes fixed on Maya. “Starting with our intern’s understanding of fundamental principles.” Jennifer positioned her phone for optimal streaming angles. Her viewer count had swelled to 3,500 with comments flying, “This is brutal.

Someone stop this. Corporate bullying gone viral.” Maya, can you explain what ROI means? Derek’s question was a trap designed to embarrass. Return on investment. The ratio of net profit to cost of investment typically expressed as a percentage. Maya’s answer was precise. Textbook perfect. Derek’s smile tightened. Lucky guess.

How about Ebah? Earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization. A measure of operational profitability. The room grew quieter. Maya’s responses weren’t what Derek expected. Market capitalization, total dollar market value of all outstanding shares, calculated by multiplying shares outstanding by current market price per share. Jennifer’s live stream chat shifted.

Wait, she actually knows this stuff. Plot twist incoming. Dererick looks shook, but Derek wasn’t finished. He opened his laptop and projected a complex financial statement onto the wall screen. Since you’re so confident, walk us through this quarterly report. Explain the cash flow statement to everyone here. Maya approached the screen around her.

Employees leaned forward. Some filmed on their phones, others exchanged bets on whether she’d crack under pressure. She studied the document for 30 seconds, then began speaking with quiet authority. The operating cash flow shows $47.3 million, indicating strong core business performance. However, the $12.

8 million in financing activities suggests significant debt servicing. The $ 8.2 million decrease in investing activities signals reduced capital expenditure, possibly indicating cost cutting measures or delayed growth investments. Her analysis was flawless. more than flawless. It revealed insights that impressed even the senior analysts present. Derek’s face flushed red.

Anyone can memorize textbook definitions, he snapped. Real business requires instinct, connections, breeding, things you can’t fake. The word breeding hung in the air like poison. Several employees shifted uncomfortably. Jennifer’s live stream exploded with outrage. Did he just say breeding? This is straight up racism.

Save this video as evidence. 2:30 p.m. 3 hours and 30 minutes remaining. The public humiliation had backfired, making Derek more dangerous. He retreated to his office with department heads Sarah Chen and Michael Torres plotting their next move. She’s making me look bad. Dererick’s voice carried through his partially open door.

We need to get rid of her before she causes more problems. Maya passed by carrying files, her steps silent on the marble floor. She paused just outside the door listening. Claim she’s disruptive, Sarah suggested. Insubordinate. We have witnesses. Better yet, Michael added, “Say she’s not following safety protocols. That’s grounds for immediate dismissal.” Derek’s laugh was cruel. I like that.

Frame it as a liability issue. Corporate will back us up. Maya’s phone vibrated. A text from an unknown number. Ms. Washington, this is Marcus from building security. We need to talk. Staff break room level 42. It’s important. She made her way to the lower floor, finding Marcus Thompson waiting with coffee and a grim expression.

I remember where I know you from, he said quietly. 3 months ago, you toured this building with the Washington Holdings executives. You were asking about security protocols, employee satisfaction surveys. Maya’s composure didn’t waver, but her eyes sharpened. I’ve been watching what’s happening upstairs, Marcus continued. That live stream has 8,000 viewers now.

People are recording everything, but Dererick’s planning something. I heard him talking to HR about filing a complaint against you. What kind of complaint? Safety violation. says you were accessing restricted areas, handling confidential documents without authorization. Marcus leaned forward. It’s but it’ll stick if they push it through.

Maya processed this information with clinical precision. When he’s meeting with HR at 400 p.m. Patricia Hayes is already preparing the paperwork. Maya checked her watch. 2 hours until the board meeting. 1 and a half hours until Derek’s ambush. Marcus, I need a favor. Can you access the building’s CCTV system? His eyebrows raised. Depends what you need. Everything from today.

Every camera, every angle, especially Derek’s office, the conference room, and the cafeteria. That’s That’s a lot of footage. Why? Maya’s smile was enigmatic. Because sometimes the truth needs witnesses. 3:45 p.m. 2 hours and 15 minutes remaining. Maya returned to the 47th floor to find chaos brewing. Jennifer’s live stream had been discovered by the company’s social media monitoring team.

HR was scrambling to contain the damage as the video went viral across Twitter, LinkedIn, and Tik Tok. Patricia Hayes rushed past Maya without acknowledgement, arms full of incident reports and legal documents. The #P prestige fininancialbullying was trending with over 15,000 shares of Jennifer’s stream, but Derek was undeterred. If anything, the viral attention made him more vicious.

Emergency meeting, all interns, he announced over the intercom. Conference room now. The seven interns assembled, tension crackling like electricity. Jennifer still held her phone, though the live stream was officially shut down. She was recording to her camera roll.

Now, “Due to recent disruptions and safety violations,” Derek began, his eyes locked on Maya. “We’re implementing immediate disciplinary measures. Some of you have demonstrated behavior inconsistent with our corporate values.” Mia sat perfectly still, hands folded in her lap.

Maya Chen Washington, you’ve been observed accessing restricted areas, handling confidential materials, and creating a hostile work environment for other interns. The accusation was so absurd that even the other interns looked confused. Brad, a normally silent intern from Northwestern, actually spoke up. Sir, Maya hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been helping all of us with our assignments.

Derek’s glare could have melted steel. Mr. Patterson, I don’t recall asking for your input. Jennifer, sensing the mood shifting against Derek, tried to regain control. I have everything on video. Maya was definitely acting suspicious. But the tide was turning. Other employees had gathered outside the glass conference room, watching the spectacle.

Many had seen Jennifer’s live stream. They knew who the real aggressor was. Maya finally spoke, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Mr. Williams, are you formally accusing me of misconduct? I’m stating facts. You violated company policy multiple times today. Which policies specifically? Derek fumbled through papers. Section 4.7 of the employee handbook.

Unauthorized access to sensitive materials. Maya’s eyes never left his face. Could you show me these materials I allegedly accessed? You know what you did. I’m asking for specificity. Dates, times, locations, witnesses other than Ms. Walsh. The conference room fell silent. Derek’s trap was collapsing under the weight of Maya’s calm logic.

Around the glass walls, employees pressed closer, sensing something momentous building. Ma’s phone buzzed with a text. Conference room prepared. Security has been notified. All board members present. Ready when you are, James. She glanced at the message, then at the wall clock. 4:00 p.m. Exactly.

Time for the reveal that would shatter Derek Williams’s world. Part four, twist reveal. 1,800 words. 4:00 p.m. 2 hours remaining. Maya stood slowly, her movement deliberate and graceful. The conference room held its breath as she walked to Dererick’s abandoned laptop, still connected to the projection screen. What are you doing? Dererick’s voice cracked slightly.

Get away from my computer. I need to show everyone something important. Maya’s fingers moved across the keyboard with practiced efficiency. You left your email open, Mr. Williams. That’s private property. Security. But security didn’t come. Marcus Thompson stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching with keen interest.

Maya opened Derek’s email client. The projection screen filled with message threads that made the room gasp collectively. Email dated March 15th. Maya read aloud. From Derek Williams to Sarah Chen. Another diversity higher disaster incoming. These people don’t belong in our industry.

How do we make this stop? Sarah Chen’s face went white around the glass walls. Employees pressed closer. Phones recording everything. March 22nd. Derek Williams to Michael Torres. The boards pushing affirmative action nonsense again. Time to raise our standards before we’re overrun. Jennifer’s hand shook as she held her phone. Her live stream replacement was capturing every word. broadcasting to thousands of viewers who were sharing the feed across every platform.

Maya scrolled deeper into the email threads, revealing a systematic pattern of discrimination that stunned the room into silence. May 3rd, Derek Williams to hiring committee, reject candidate Chen Park, too ethnic, won’t fit company culture. May 17th, Derek Williams to Patricia Hayes. Promote Johnson over Martinez.

We need the right image in client-f facing roles. June 2nd, Derek Williams to department heads. The diversity training is mandatory, but let’s make sure everyone understands what really matters here. Each email was worse than the last.

Month after month of documented bigotry preserved in Derek’s own words across company servers. June 24th, Derek Williams to Michael Torres, “Found a way around the diversity quotas. Reject candidates on cultural fit grounds. Legal can’t touch us.” The evidence was devastating. Derek had created an entire system of discrimination, carefully coded to avoid legal scrutiny while systematically excluding qualified minority candidates.