The very first time the intern participated in a major project bid, she used AI to generate the entire proposal—and the first time I tried to stop her, it cost me my career, my reputation, and eventually my life.
Chapter 2
The ride back to Apex was silent except for Daisy’s crying.
Brandon drove with both hands locked around the steering wheel. Every few seconds, his eyes found mine in the rearview mirror.
“You knew,” he finally said.
“Knew what?”
“That her presentation would fail.”
“She created it. You approved her authority.”
“You could have stopped her.”
“You told me not to.”
Daisy sobbed from the back seat. “Chloe wanted me to fail.”
I turned around.
“No, Daisy. I wanted you to be responsible for your own work.”
Brandon slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
“You’re my fiancée. Your loyalty should be to me.”
“My professional judgment used to be part of what you claimed to respect.”
His mouth tightened.
When we returned to the office, he ordered me into his private suite.
I left the door open.
“Close it.”
“No.”
His expression darkened.
“Everything you created while employed here belongs to Apex. If you try to take Evercore independently, I’ll sue you.”
In my first life, those words had terrified me.
Now I almost pitied him.
“Before you threaten me, check your email.”
His computer chimed.
Brandon frowned, opened the message, and slowly sank into his chair.
Evercore’s general counsel had issued an immediate notice of investigation for a possible material breach of the nondisclosure agreement.
The problem was not Daisy’s embarrassing presentation.
It was what she had uploaded to create it.
Evercore’s cybersecurity team had traced confidential engineering files from Daisy’s prompts to a public commercial AI platform. Among them were proprietary clean-hydrogen schematics covered by international patents and export restrictions.
Portions of the technical data had already appeared in public developer caches.
Brandon whispered, “Oh, God.”
I folded my arms.
“You authorized her access.”
He stared at the screen.
“I didn’t know she’d upload everything.”
“You bypassed IT controls to give an intern unrestricted access to a secure client repository.”
His face turned gray.
At two that afternoon, Apex’s emergency board meeting began.
Harold Vance, the company’s CEO and Daisy’s distant uncle, looked ready to explode. Daisy sat near the wall clutching tissues while Brandon flipped through printed server logs.
I knew what came next.
Because I had lived it.
Brandon stood.
“Our preliminary review reveals that Chloe Miller controlled these project materials for approximately ninety days.”
There it was.
Daisy immediately joined him.
“Uncle Harold, Chloe gave me the files. She told me to run them through the AI.”
Several executives turned toward me.
Harold slammed a hand down.
“Chloe, did you give restricted engineering files to this intern?”
In my first life, Brandon had erased key access records before making the accusation. Daisy’s tears had outweighed my explanation.
This time, I had prepared.
I connected my laptop to the conference screen.
“Let’s review the timeline.”
The first server log appeared.
“Yesterday at 8:30 a.m., Brandon revoked my administrative access.”
His executive identification number was displayed beside the command.
The second record appeared.
“At 9:14, Daisy downloaded the confidential engineering package using credentials authorized personally by Brandon.”
Daisy’s face went white.
The third record showed the transfer from her laptop to an unauthorized network connection.
“She bypassed Apex’s firewall using her personal hotspot.”
Brandon stood abruptly.
“That proves nothing about who instructed her.”
I clicked again.
Audio filled the room.
Daisy’s recorded voice said, “Can I tear these down? My AI diagrams are cleaner.”
Then mine: “Do whatever you want.”
Then Brandon’s unmistakable voice: “The project belongs to Daisy now. She has the right to organize it as she sees fit. Chloe, don’t give her attitude.”
No one moved.
I switched to a screenshot of Daisy’s own prompt window, captured during the screen-sharing session she had proudly broadcast to half the department.
Analyze the attached CAD schematic and summarize patent boundaries.
Harold turned slowly toward Brandon.
“You authorized this?”
Brandon shook his head. “I authorized access, not uploading.”
“You bypassed security for her.”
“I was trying to modernize the department.”
Harold’s face reddened.
“You gambled this company on an intern because you wanted to look modern?”
Daisy suddenly jumped up.
“It was Brandon’s idea!”
Brandon spun toward her.
She pointed at him, crying.
“He said if we won using AI, he could cut the strategy team, fire Chloe, and increase the project margin. He promised me a promotion and part of the performance bonus.”
The room erupted.
“You lying little—”
Brandon stopped himself too late.
Everyone heard it.
I closed my laptop.
Technology had not destroyed Apex.
Daisy’s inexperience had not destroyed Apex.
What destroyed it was something older than any computer program: arrogance, greed, favoritism, and the belief that accountability could always be handed to someone else.
I stood.
“My resignation is effective immediately.”
Harold stared at me.
“Chloe, you can’t leave in the middle of this.”
“I’m not in the middle anymore.”
I picked up my briefcase.
“Yesterday, you decided who was qualified to lead Evercore. Today you can live with that decision.”
As I stepped into the hallway, I heard shouting behind me.
I did not turn around.
But later that evening, my phone buzzed.
Brandon.
Chloe, I know I made mistakes. There are personal documents of yours in the executive terrace safe—tax files and employment records. The board will freeze access tomorrow. Meet me upstairs for five minutes. I want to give them back.
I stared at the message.
Executive terrace.
Twenty-seventh floor.
The same rooftop where Brandon had killed me.
