Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring through a sudden, hot haze. *Congratulations, David, on the successful completion of the Atlas Initiative. Your innovative design…* The blood roared in his ears. His rival, the smug bastard, had taken his idea, his blueprints, everything. David’s fingers twitched, itching to do something, *anything*.

He felt a cold sweat prickling his skin. This wasn't just a professional setback; it was a personal insult. He’d sacrificed sleep, social life, everything, for this project. The office, usually a place of familiarity, now felt like a cage. He pictured the man's face, the slight smirk, and felt a surge of pure, unadulterated coldness.

The next day, David subtly rearranged the office, switching the files the man needed to access and removing access to the correct blueprint. He knew the man would be late on the job.