You thought you were familiar with ambition and betrayal. That was before the drugs and the software unfolded you into something infinitely better and infinitely worse. You reveled then in the joyful purity of ruthless deceit elevated to higher mathematics. You set up half a dozen blackmail plans to ensure your survival after your contract ended; after what you had learned and done it was inconceivable that the company would let you live.
There was no attempt during the weeks before the end. No violence after either. They simply stopped the drugs and removed the software, and you had thought that even before the company you were already beyond conscience and unable to regret.
You knew too much to believe they'd let anybody read your suicide note but you had done too much not to try.