Chapter 2

"I understand, Rachel," I said, my voice calm. "However, I resigned before the holidays, and all the paperwork went through standard procedures."

"Oh, Camille, why are you being so stubborn? Listen to me..." Rachel tried again.

"Look," I cut her off. "For seven years, I never missed a single day of work, never took a day off, and never turned down overtime. I pulled my weight for this firm. If you need help with the handover, I'm willing to assist, but other than that, don't call me again."

"Camille!" Her voice piped up sharply in frustration. "What kind of attitude is that? I'm calling you in good faith, and you're throwing it right back in my face?"

I hung up on her right then and there, refusing to let my toxic former co-worker ruin my good mood on my first day joining the new firm.

Yet my phone didn't stay quiet for five minutes before it started buzzing again. This time, it was a FaceTime audio call from my former subordinate, Eliza Hale, the very person who had stolen my Employee of the Year award.

I tapped decline, but 30 seconds later, a barrage of text messages popped up.

[Hey, why aren't you picking up?]

[Mr. Howell is blowing a fuse right now. You need to contact him back ASAP!]

[You're usually the most reliable person here. Why are you being so reckless all of a sudden? Don't make things difficult for everyone.]

...

I stared at the screen, entirely unbothered.

So far, Eliza had been with the firm for three years. I was the one who had taken her under my wing when she was just an intern, teaching her how to handle demanding clients and how to step up whenever a project ran into trouble.

In return, she hijacked my credit and ran off with my bonus.

My phone buzzed again with a wall of text; clearly, my silence was driving her crazy.

[Camille, I know you're upset about the bonus, but you can't blame the firm for that. Times were tough for everyone last year with the market being down, and Mr. Howell values you!

[If word gets out that you walked out over a little money, how's that going to look? Besides, after all the years the company spent molding you into who you are, how can your conscience let you just abandon ship like this?]

"Conscience?"

Staring at that word, I found it almost laughable.

I typed out my response: [Who secretly copied my entire client database while I was out sick? Who took my creative pitches, rewrapped them, and passed them off as her own ideas during team meetings?

[And who treated the entire department to Starbucks right before performance reviews, leaving me as the only person without one? You're the last person who gets to lecture me about conscience!]

In less than three minutes, another message flashed on my screen, carrying a tone of condescending frustration.

[What's the point of digging up the past? Throwing a tantrum like this only hurts yourself. Where do you think you can even go without this firm? Do you have any idea how many master's grads out there can't even land a job right now?

[You only have a bachelor's degree. You're 30 and still single. Every respectable metric on your resume was handed to you on a silver platter by this company.

[Rachel has made it clear that if you don't come back right now, Mr. Howell is going to put out the word. Good luck getting anyone in the corporate circuit to hire you after that!]

"Trying to intimidate me, huh?" I snorted.

My phone buzzed once more with another text: [Camille? Say something! We're all waiting.]

I opened the chat, replied with a passive-aggressive smiley face emoji, blocked her contact, and got out of bed.

Today was my first day at the Marora Group, our client on that eight-million-dollar account. Their contact, Mark Irwin, was a straight shooter whom I had worked with closely throughout the project.

When my former firm had stabbed me in the back right before the holidays, he had texted me.

[Camille, we desperately need talent like you. Your effort is not valued over there. Name your salary, and let me know whenever you're ready to make the jump!]

After splashing water on my face, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Starting today, I was going to live my life on my own terms.