The 48 Hour Intern Who Tried To Cancel My Empire

The first thing I saw on my phone that morning was a TikTok video. My own face, edited with devil horns and a heavy red filter, was staring back at me. The caption read: My CEO is a monster. “This is why no one gets married or has kids anymore! We’re being ruined by greedy, toxic capitalists like her!” The voice, shrill and weeping, belonged to Skylar Moore, an intern who had started only forty-eight hours ago. “She won’t approve my wedding leave! Am I just a workhorse to them? Not even a person?!” “I actually believed her lies about running an all-female, woman-friendly company. But the capitalist predator who eats her own has finally shown her face!” The video exploded. The comments section filled instantly with thousands of young people fiercely relating to her rage. They joined the digital lynch mob, flooding my DMs with abuse and—I later found out—even sending threats to my office. As the CEO of Her World—a company I’d built from nothing—I went live immediately to confront her. I refused to let my rules be bent by public pressure. “I’m sorry, but I will not approve Skylar Moore’s request for wedding leave,” I stated, looking directly into the lens. My voice was calm and steady. “She’s free to resign and file a grievance with the Department of Labor. She’s free to sue me in civil court. But her leave request will not be approved.” The live stream’s engagement was through the roof. The comments section was a battlefield. A few people, claiming to be pro-bono lawyers, offered to represent Skylar for free. But Skylar, who was also live on her own channel, visibly hesitated. Her calculated panic was perfectly pitched. “I only wanted my time off,” she mumbled, tears welling in her eyes. “I never wanted to quit, and I certainly never wanted to sue Ms. Linda…”

That moment of feigned helplessness was her genius stroke. The sympathy for her quadrupled. “Oh my god! Look how traumatized she is!” “She’s still calling that wicked woman ‘Ms. Linda’!” “Sierra Linda is subhuman! You’ve driven your employee insane!” “Lawyers! Sue her! This woman is a bully on a power trip!” “She’s clearly jealous! She’s unmarried and she hates seeing anyone else happy!” Just like that, my image as a “power-tripping, employee-crushing monster” was solidified. Off-camera, my loyal assistant, Jessie, and a few other women couldn’t stand it. “That’s not true!” “Skylar knew the rules!” “Ms. Linda isn’t like that!” Their small, whispered protests were unfortunately picked up by my microphone. The chat exploded again. “Did you hear that? She’s threatening other employees!” “The other women are being forced to cover for her!” “Oh, this company is terrifying! A toxic cult!” “They’ve all been brainwashed! Why else would they defend her?” My private cell phone vibrated a frantic, desperate dance on my mahogany desk. The screen flashed the name: Rich Grant. My lead investor. I ignored it. I looked at the camera, watched the deluge of hatred. They called me “inhumane,” a “crazy boss,” a “sociopath.” In front of millions of viewers, I reached out and manually ended the stream. The screen went black. The confrontation ended with my complete and utter defeat. Skylar Moore had earned the sympathy of the entire internet. And I, Sierra Linda, became the poster child for the “jealous, toxic capitalist who emotionally blackmailed her whole company.” The next morning, I walked into the office. Vanessa Cole, my VP of Operations, rushed in, her face pale. “Sierra, it’s bad,” she said, her voice tight. “All of our products have been pulled from every major platform. The reason: ‘Severe concerns regarding corporate values.’ We’ve received termination notices from every partner we have.” Her World was at a complete operational halt. Before I could reply, my office door was thrown open. Richard Grant stormed in, his eyes bloodshot, looking ready to commit violence. He slammed his phone down on my desk. “Sierra Linda!” he roared, pointing a shaking finger at my face. “You hung up on me yesterday?!” “Are you out of your mind?!” “You’re going to bankrupt us all for a freaking intern?!” He was a fury of male entitlement and financial panic. Before I could get a word in, Vanessa stepped in front of him. “Rich, you need to calm down,” she insisted. “Sierra is the most principled person I know. She must have a reason for this!” Rich laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Vanessa! Did she get to you too? What did she promise you people? Why are you all covering for her?” Vanessa ignored him. She took out her phone. Right in front of Rich, she logged into her verified professional account and posted a strong, clear message. “I stake my reputation on this: Sierra Linda is the best boss I’ve ever had. She is not the monster the internet is making her out to be.” Jessie, and a few women from the Tech and Marketing teams—the same ones whose whispers were picked up on the stream—all logged in and posted comments with their real names. “The culture here is the best in the industry. Zero bullying!” “Ms. Linda treats every one of us with respect!” “We stand with Sierra!” Within minutes, the post and the comments had climbed to the top of the trending topics. Less than ten minutes later, Skylar dropped a new video. She took screenshots of Vanessa’s post and every single comment. She was hysterically sobbing and shaking in the video. “I’m so scared… they’re… they’re all ganging up on me!” “Ms. Linda has turned the company into her own dictatorship! She’s brainwashed all the women who work there!” “They’re all colluding against me!” “This company is pure evil! They’re working together to drive me to suicide!” The phrase, “colluding against her,” became the next hot search term. A collective online assault against my employees began. Vanessa’s home address was doxed. Photos of her three-year-old were being deep-faked into hideous funeral montages and shared across social media. Jessie’s phone was hit with a barrage of calls, all featuring vile insults and death threats. Every employee who had publicly supported me was targeted. The hate DMs piled up: “Female CEO’s little pet!” “Brainwashed idiot! You deserve this!” “Hope your whole family drops dead!” When Vanessa came to my office next, her eyes were swollen, her spirit completely broken. I watched her delete the post, her hands shaking, tears streaming down her face. “Sierra… I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “My son is three years old… They’re not human beings.” “My husband is filing for divorce…” She handed me her resignation letter. Jessie followed. Then Tech. Then Marketing. Every employee who had shown me loyalty was harassed into a mental breakdown and forced to quit. Skylar Moore became the heroic symbol of resistance against the “workplace cult.” My company, Her World, was permanently branded as a den of “toxic sisterhood” and “pyramid scheme brainwashing.” Our reputation was annihilated. A week later, the office was empty. I sat alone. On my computer screen, the internet was saturated with blissful interviews of Skylar and her “fiancé.” He was shown kissing her head and promising to protect her forever. On my private cell, thousands of malicious messages cursed me to “die alone.” My personal information—Social Security Number, home address, private number—was all over the dark corners of the web. People had taken to throwing red paint on the front door of my apartment. “Wicked Old Hag” and “Die” were scrawled in thick black marker. The cleaning crew had to come three times a day. My mother called. The first words were a torrent of scolding. “Sierra! Have you lost your mind?!” “Look at what the internet is saying! You’re going to lose the company! Just apologize to that girl!” My father yelled from the background: “You’re just psychologically messed up because you’re not married! You’re jealous of that girl’s wedding!” “You and your mother’s reputation is ruined!” I hung up. The silence lasted two seconds. Skylar, high on her public victory, went live again. She began a livestream of her entire wedding preparation: dress fittings, engagement ring selection, new apartment decorating. In every stream, she made sure to mention me. “I honestly have to thank my former boss.” “It was her cruelty that showed me who truly loves me.” “Women shouldn’t tear each other down. I hope she finds peace someday.” The chat filled with comments: “Skylar, you are so kind.” Richard Grant called an emergency board meeting. Afterward, he gave me my final ultimatum. “Sierra, two choices.” “One: You immediately call a press conference, publicly apologize to Skylar Moore, approve her leave, and compensate her for emotional distress.” “Two: All shareholders will collectively dilute your shares and force you out of the CEO chair.” “Choose now.” My reply was steady: “I refuse to apologize.” Rich was silent for a few seconds. Then he bellowed: “You are a freaking psychopath!” He slammed the phone down. The next day, I was completely blacklisted by the entire industry. All my speaking engagements and business profiles were removed. I went from “Annual Female Entrepreneur Role Model” to “Industry Disgrace.” No one dared to even mention my name. Skylar sent the digital wedding invitation to everyone via social media. She didn’t block me. She even intentionally tagged several former colleagues, including Vanessa and Jessie. She wanted to make sure I saw it. That night, my closest friend, Maya, came to try and talk sense into me. She looked at the red-painted apartment door with deep dismay. “Jen,” she used my old college nickname. “You can’t win against the mob.” “It’s not worth destroying ten years of your life for one junior employee! Just concede! Say sorry, and this will all go away!” “Why are you being so stubborn?” I didn’t explain. I just stared out the window, at the shocking red paint on my front door. A strange, cold calm had settled over me. I opened my phone’s Notes app. I silently typed in the date of Skylar Moore’s wedding and the name of the hotel from the invitation. The Board of Directors released a public statement. “Given the severe personal misconduct of Ms. Sierra Linda, which has caused irreparable harm to the company’s brand…” “The Board has voted unanimously to immediately terminate Ms. Linda’s employment as CEO and freeze all her stock options.” I was fired from the company I had personally founded. The moment the news broke, the internet erupted in celebration. Skylar’s wedding was that same evening. She was live-streaming the entire event. The online viewership topped ten million. She was resplendent in an expensive, custom-made gown, her face glowing. This was her victory lap. During the stream, a viewer brought me up. “What happened to that evil boss, Sierra Linda? Is she dead yet?” Skylar put a hand over her mouth, feigning “mercy.” “Oh, let’s not talk about her. Today’s my happy day. I feel sorry for her, actually. She’s lost absolutely everything now.” She looked into the camera, her eyes glinting with barely contained triumph and challenge. “If she really thinks I fabricated documents, or cheated the company in any way…” “She can totally sue me, you know!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll be waiting for her court documents.” The chat burst into laughter. “LOL, where is she going to get money for a lawyer now?” “Sue her! Let’s see her try to win!” “Skylar, ignore that crazy lady!” My phone rang again. It was my mother. Her voice was a desperate, pleading whisper. “Sierra, please. Your father’s heart is bad, he’s in the hospital. We are too old for this public humiliation. We can’t take this social pressure anymore…” I hung up. Vanessa, my former VP, who had lost her job and her marriage because of the harassment, sent me one last text. “I surrender, sis. I can’t fight them. I’m just an ordinary person.” “You should give up too.” I watched the live feed in silence. Skylar and her fiancé, Mark, were about to exchange rings. The moment had arrived. I closed the live stream app. At the wedding venue, the music swelled to a crescendo. “The groom may now kiss the bride!” The hall was filled with cheers. BANG—! At that exact moment— The double doors of the ballroom were violently thrown open. The massive sound swallowed the music. Every guest, and the camera capturing the ten million viewers, snapped toward the entrance. Skylar’s victorious smile froze on her face. Her eyes met mine. They went immediately pale. She pointed at me and shrieked, an ear-piercing sound: “Security!” “Security! Get that psychopath out of here! She’s trying to crash the wedding!” The hotel security team scrambled forward. I didn’t slow down. I ignored her screams and the shocked faces of the guests. I walked straight onto the stage. The officiant stared at me, dumbfounded, unable to speak. Mark, the groom, stepped in front of Skylar, shouting: “What do you want? Get out!” I took the microphone straight out of the officiant’s hand. I looked at Skylar and smiled. My voice was quiet, but amplified through the massive speakers, it carried through the hall and across the live stream. “Don’t worry.” “Skylar Moore, I’ve brought you a wedding gift.” I turned to the camera and the hundreds of guests. I held up a simple USB drive. “You asked me to sue you? I’m here to deliver the evidence.” I walked to the wedding control booth at the side of the stage. Before the technician could react, I plugged the USB drive into the laptop. A crystal-clear image of a document immediately appeared on the massive screen behind the altar. It was her employment verification form from Her World. The live chat froze. I picked up the officiant’s laser pointer, and the red dot landed precisely on the most critical date: the day before she submitted her request for wedding leave. The entire hall fell silent for three seconds. Then, a sudden, explosive roar of astonishment erupted! “As of this moment,” I said, looking directly at Skylar, “she was still in her probationary period.” “Let me clarify one point.” “The company did not reject a reasonable request for leave.” “I rejected an egregious, unreasonable request made by an employee who had been on the payroll for forty-eight hours, who was not entitled to formal benefits, and who then attempted to use public opinion as a weapon to extort special treatment.” My words were precise and cutting. A few more seconds of silence, then the screens showing the live chat went insane. The comments scrolled so fast they were a blur. “Wait, what?! FORTY-EIGHT HOURS?!” “She tried to pull a wedding leave two days in? Does she have any shame?” “It’s common sense you don’t get benefits during a probationary period! This woman is nuts!” “I actually believed the black-hearted CEO story! She’s just a manipulative giant baby!” “This is straight-up fraud! The tables have turned!” The narrative had shattered. Skylar’s face was rapidly losing all color. She gripped her wedding dress, her body starting to tremble. “I didn’t know! I didn’t read it clearly! I just started, how was I supposed to know anything?!” she stammered, desperately trying to find an excuse. “Sierra Linda! You deliberately did this! You wanted to ruin me!” She started to wail, pivoting back to a moral attack. “Are you sure you didn’t know?” I asked, my voice flat. I pulled out a third item: a sheet of paper. “This is the onboarding training sign-in sheet from October 18th. Down in the bottom right corner is the signature of Ms. Skylar Moore.” I then produced a stack of printed materials. “These were the training materials she received that day. I’ve specifically folded this page.” I held it up to the camera. The section on Leave and Benefits was clearly highlighted in fluorescent yellow. “The rules for the probationary period are here, in black and white.” “She not only received the materials but signed to confirm she had read and understood all the terms.” “And you’re telling me you didn’t know?” Skylar’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. The tears were still on her cheeks, making her look pitiable and ridiculous. “You…” she began to whisper. “Enough!” A sharp, furious roar cut her off.