They Replaced Their Best Architect With A Fraud

The payroll file accidentally landed in the company group chat. Even though the finance team recalled it within seconds, I saw it. The intern’s salary on the spreadsheet was blinding. Ninety thousand dollars. Triple my own. I stared, slack-jawed, then slowly looked up at the young man across the desk from me, who was currently slacking off. After a moment’s thought, I quietly closed the project file I’d been checking for him. Then, with a strange sense of calm, I printed out my letter of resignation. Three years of my life, poured into this company, and I was worth less than a “walk-on intern,” Brody Hall, who had joined us three months ago. If he were a hard worker or a technical genius, I might have swallowed it. But Brody spent most of his time at his desk, glued to his screen, playing games.

Like right now. Headphones on, tuned out from the world. I’d called him out on it a few times and flagged it to our Director. No change. I finally gave up. I figured, with an attitude like that, he must have some killer skills, right? Wrong. He couldn’t even write a simple API call without instruction. I had to walk him through reading system logs, step by painful step. It was honestly easier to do the work myself. I prided myself on being reliable, a bedrock for the engineering team. And yet, his paycheck was three times mine. I felt like an absolute fool. I joined NovaTech fresh out of college three years ago. I was fueled by that young, fierce belief that you fight for the dream, even if the conditions are tight. I led the charge on the company’s first few successful projects. I lost count of the all-nighters I pulled or the keyboards I wore out. Now, NovaTech was booming. We’d moved into a sleek new office tower and hired dozens of new employees. And me? I felt forgotten, stuck with a salary that hadn’t kept pace with my contributions or the company’s growth. It wasn’t just the money. It was the principle. The blatant, stinging unfairness. Clutching the printed resignation, I strode directly to the Director’s office and pushed the door open. Victor Kemp, our Technical Director, was smiling broadly at his screen, no doubt basking in the glory of some recent product launch. My heart sank a little, but my spine straightened. I knew what I had to do. Victor looked up, the smile dissolving. “Jas Clarke? What’s up?” I placed the resignation letter squarely on his desk. “Victor, I’m quitting. Per company policy, I will complete my full four-week handover.” Victor blinked, momentarily stunned. “Quitting? But things are great. What’s the issue? Are you having trouble? Did you… hear some office gossip?” My voice was so calm it surprised even me. “I saw the intern, Brody Hall’s, salary. It’s triple mine.” “That’s the only reason I’m leaving.” Victor’s face immediately hardened, then he adopted his patronizing look, the one that said, you don’t understand how the real world works. “Jas, salary is confidential. Whatever you saw, it has to be a misunderstanding.” I gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Then tell me, Victor. What is Brody’s salary?” Of course, he wouldn’t tell me. His tone became impatient. “Look, Jas, you’re one of our earliest hires and a core developer. I get that you’re upset. But the company follows standard pay practices. We’ve given you raises every year for the past three years—more than most of the veterans. As for Brody, he’s a high-achieving graduate. We can’t bring in top talent without offering a premium. You can’t let your personal feelings stall the company’s growth.” The sheer audacity of his speech made my blood run cold. “Victor, my contribution to NovaTech over the past three years is undeniable. Do you honestly think an eighty-thousand-dollar annual salary is appropriate for a Senior Systems Architect?” (I translated the original’s 10,000 RMB to $80k as an equivalent feeling of underpayment in a high-cost US city.) “Every time I’ve asked for a fair raise, you’ve fed me lines about the company’s ‘tight margins.’ I was a team player. And this is the result? Brody’s ‘high-achieving’ status hasn’t translated into any actual competence. If that’s your definition of talent, then let me go. I’ll make room.” With every sentence, Victor’s complexion darkened. By the end, he was practically yelling. “What is this? Are you threatening the company?” I scoffed. “Me? A disgruntled developer? I couldn’t threaten a start-up. I’m simply informing you of my career move. This is a notification of resignation, Victor, not an application for one. You don’t need to approve it. Besides, I’m saving the company a boatload of money. You should thank me.” With that, I turned and walked out, not looking back. As I opened the office door, Brenda, our financial administrator, was lurking outside. She saw me, her face pale, her eyes darting away. I walked past her without a word. Once she slipped into Victor’s office, I paused outside, curious, and leaned a fraction closer to the door. I heard Brenda’s emotional voice from inside. “Victor, is Jas really leaving? We don’t have anyone who can pick up her projects!” Victor’s impatient reply cut her off. “So what? The sky is going to fall because one female architect left? She’s been phoning it in for years, anyway. Her heart hasn’t been in it. Who cares if the code works? We need vision and disruption! Getting rid of the old guard is the best thing for the company’s bloodline. Tell HR to go out and hire a few more people like Brody. Money is not an issue!” Back at my desk, a tight knot of suppressed rage twisted in my stomach. I glanced up. Brody’s desk was empty. Gone fishing, as usual. My eyes fell to his computer screen. He hadn’t locked it. Not only that, he’d left his private messenger chat open. A message from a friend was pinned to the top. Chad: Bro, this gig is insane. Triple the salary to play XBox, and you got some corporate grandma cleaning up your messes? Seriously, her rent is probably half your paycheck, and she thinks she’s your boss? GTFO. A sudden, sharp clarity hit me. I finally understood why Brody had been so curious about my life when he first joined—asking about my neighborhood, my commute, even my favorite coffee shop. I thought he was just being friendly, a naive new hire. He was just gathering intel, feeding his friend ammunition to mock me! My hands clenched, my nails digging painful crescent moons into my palms. But the anger, pushed to its absolute limit, paradoxically left me feeling cold and focused. I sat back down, neatly compiled a comprehensive handover document, and then boxed up my few personal items. I was done. I would leave today. As I reached the main hallway, I saw Brody walking back from the designated smoking area, heading toward Victor’s office. He looked surprised to see me, a faint, fake smile on his face. “Hey, Jas, leaving early today?” I gave a curt nod. He didn’t move, blocking my way. “Hey, so, that system I asked you to check over? Is it solid? You know, I’m presenting it to Mr. Elias next week. It’s my first big project here, can’t mess it up.” I stopped, considering him for a moment. I asked him, my voice serious: “Brody, Victor gave you this project because he believes you have what it takes to own it. Do you believe that? If I hadn’t helped you, do you have the ability to complete this system yourself?” Brody’s face flushed with a mixture of shame and instant defensive anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I called you ‘Jas’ as a courtesy. Don’t start thinking you’re hot stuff. I finished this system myself! You just checked the code. Are you trying to steal my credit?” My teeth ground together. Good. The mask is off. He wasn’t even bothering to pretend anymore. “If you’re so terrified of me stealing your credit,” I shot back, a thin, cold smile curving my lips, “then why did you ask me to check it in the first place?” Brody immediately choked, sputtering a denial, unable to meet my eyes. I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned and walked away. That night was the first genuinely restful sleep I’d had in months. When I woke up naturally the next morning, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I finally realized just how much the job had cost me. I didn’t rush to find a new job. Instead, I decided to take the time to center myself. I started cooking—trying new recipes, buying cute pottery and colorful linens for my apartment. I also resurrected a travel plan I’d put off for years: a solo hiking trip into the Blue Ridge Mountains. While I was collecting trail maps and gear recommendations, my former coworker, Sarah, messaged me. Sarah: Jas, you really left? Sarah was one of the few long-time employees. She’d been on an offsite meeting when I resigned. Jas: Yep. I’m out. Sarah: Was it that new intern that finally broke you? I felt a pang of curiosity. Jas: More or less. How did you guess? Sarah then spilled everything that had happened since I left. Apparently, not long after my departure, Brody presented his project to Mr. Elias, the CEO. Victor was right there beside him, giving a hyperbolic, non-stop pitch. Sarah: Victor was practically crowning Brody the next Elon Musk. You know Mr. Elias doesn’t understand the tech. He instantly greenlit the project—said we were going ‘all-in’ on resources and fast-tracking the launch! Reading the messages, I felt strangely detached. I was even a little amused. Because I knew… It wouldn’t be that simple. I’d seen Brody’s project. Honestly? It was a mess of bugs and poor design. It was miles away from being a production-ready system. I messaged Sarah back: Jas: When is the next review? Sarah: Next week, I think. Mr. Elias said he’s bringing in a major venture capitalist to watch the final demo. I smiled. Jas: Make sure you don’t book any vacation time next week. There’s going to be a show. Then I returned to plotting my mountain route. A week later, I was deep in the Appalachians. The crisp air and the vast landscape had already cleansed the shadows from my mind. I took out my phone to snap a photo for my private feed when I saw a flurry of messages from Sarah. Sarah: JAS! YOU’RE A GODDESS! Sarah: How did you know the project was going to fail?! Sarah: It crashed mid-demo, right in front of the VC! Mr. Elias was furious and just walked out! The investor heard you had resigned and literally pulled the plug on their entire investment. We’re talking millions lost! Sarah: And you will NOT believe this—Victor just SCREAMED at Brody in front of the whole department! And then Mr. Elias called Victor into his office and reamed him out! Those two idiots! It’s insane! I laughed out loud, a full, unrestrained sound of pure vindication. I quickly typed back: Jas: Please tell me you recorded it. Sarah: You know I did! The video Sarah sent showed Brody, head bowed, standing like a shamed child as Victor pointed a finger inches from his face, bellowing. Watching their misery, I felt an exhilarating rush. The next second, a call came in from an unfamiliar number. I answered without thinking. It was Brody, his voice tight with panic and on the verge of tears.