Cancelled The Perks They Called Me Toxic

The TikTok video had already passed 800,000 views.

I refreshed the page. The comment section had blown up.

"This boss needs to be canceled!"

"Classic bad boss behavior!"

"Totally snaps the second an employee makes a suggestion!"

Leo was busy in the comments, replying to everyone. Every response reinforced his persona as the bullied employee.

"Thanks for the support, everyone! I just wanted the company to be more inclusive. I had no idea the boss was this petty..."

"Yeah, now I'm scared he's going to retaliate against me at work tomorrow..."

"Please share this so more people see this kind of toxic work culture!"

I shut off my phone and leaned back in my leather office chair.

Three years ago, I graduated from Stanford.

My mother, Catherine, had my life planned out. First, a fast track to Wall Street. Then, I would take over her tech empire.

But I used my trust fund to start Elysian Creative here in Austin.

Unlimited vacation days. No KPIs. The best perks I could offer.

Even the office scent was Le Labo's Santal 33. That alone cost me two thousand dollars a month.

I thought treating my employees well would earn their loyalty.

Reality just slapped me across the face.

"Asher?" Sam knocked and entered, holding a coffee, his expression awkward. "I need to... update you on what's happening out there."

I looked at him.

Sam was the only one here who could still look me in the eye.

"The team is out there talking about you. Leo's stirring them up," Sam said, lowering his voice. He clearly didn't want to be the one saying this. "They're saying you canceling the snacks was 'a total overreaction,' that you 'can't take it.'"

"What else?"

Sam bit his lip. "Leo's saying you're just some spoiled rich kid who's never had a hard day in his life. That you have no idea what inclusivity even means. And everyone else is just... nodding along."

I laughed.

What would they do if they knew my mother was Catherine Sterling? The one on the cover of Forbes? That my monthly trust fund dividend was enough to buy this entire building?

But I'd never told anyone who I was.

I wanted respect for what I could do, not fear because of my money.

"Fine." I turned back to my computer. "If they want a game, we'll play a game."

"Asher..." Sam's voice was laced with worry.

"Sam, send an email to HR for me." My fingers flew across the keyboard. "We're adjusting the compensation structure. Convert the snack budget into a $500 monthly 'Wellness Stipend' for every employee. Make it clear the funds are coming from my personal account. It goes into effect tomorrow."

Sam stared. "$500? That means you'll be paying an extra twelve and a half thousand dollars a month."

"It's fine," I said. "They found the French bakery so offensive. So I'll give them cash instead."

After the email was sent, I stood up and walked to the glass wall of my office, curious to see their reactions.

And then I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Leo was standing in the middle of the breakroom, wildly exaggerating my hand gestures and expressions from our meetings.

He placed a hand over his heart and mimicked my voice.

"My dearest team members, we here at Elysian Creative are a family!"

The employees around him erupted in laughter.

I saw Karen, the single mother I’d given a month of paid leave to care for her sick child. She was doubled over, clapping.

And Mike. I’d helped him with his rental deposit. Now he was laughing so hard he was wiping tears from his eyes, nodding enthusiastically.

And there was Jessica, the new hire I'd personally trained when she started.

And David, the creative director I'd poached from a rival firm with a 30% raise.

They were all laughing at me.

Leo continued his performance, putting on a high-pitched, whiny voice. "Oh no! My employees said my fancy French pastries aren't inclusive enough! My feelings are so hurt! I'm taking away all their perks!"

Another roar of laughter.

Karen wiped a tear from her eye. "That pouty look on his face... it's just like my five-year-old!"

Mike slapped the table. "He's just a spoiled brat who can't take a little criticism!"

I stood behind the glass wall, watching these people I had once considered family. The last shred of warmth in my heart vanished.

This was the "team" I had spent three years building?

This was the "loyalty" my sincerity had bought me?

I turned slowly and walked back to my desk, a cold smile playing on my lips.

So, the pastries from the best bakery in town are trash, and I'm the one who overreacts.

Fine.

Let's see if you can handle the next "surprise" I have in store.