As I walked through my own company disguised as a janitor, my top executive sneered, “People like you don’t belong here.” Her tone was the first warning something inside my empire had gone wrong. I stayed silent, memorizing every face that laughed. Thirty minutes later, I called an emergency board meeting and revealed who I really was… and by noon, my next move left the entire building in chaos.

As I scrubbed a coffee stain outside her office, she burst out, furious about a missing Starbucks order.

Her eyes scanned the room for a target — and landed on me.

I stepped back, not seeing her behind me. The wooden handle of my mop lightly brushed her arm.

The reaction was instantaneous.

“Are you blind?” she screamed, loud enough to silence the entire floor.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I murmured. “I’m just cleaning—”

“I don’t care what you’re doing!” she snapped. She looked at her designer blazer as though contaminated. “Do you have any idea how much this costs? More than you’ll see in a year, you useless fool!”

My stomach tightened, but I played the part.

“I apologize,” I said again, staring at the floor.

She sneered.
“You should be grateful to even be in this building.”

Then she glanced at my bucket of dirty water.

“You like cleaning? Then do it properly.”

She kicked the bucket.

Hard.

It overturned with a loud crash, icy gray water spilling across the tiles and soaking my shoes and jumpsuit. Laughter rippled through the room — nervous from some, gleeful from others.

Veronica smirked at her audience.

“This is what happens when you have no ambition,” she called out. “You end up cleaning your own mess.”

She turned and slammed her office door.

I stood silently in the puddle while people resumed work as if nothing had happened.

No one helped.
No one defended me.
Some couldn’t even meet my eyes.

Slowly, I lifted the bucket, wrung out the mop, and cleaned the water.

Then I walked to the service elevator, peeled off the glasses, and pressed the button for the penthouse.

It was time.

PART 2: THE REVELATION