Chapter 1

Three days earlier, I'd pulled three all-nighters with my team and finally landed the company a million-dollar photo shoot.

To show his appreciation for our professionalism, our client, Matt Kilcher, had a big box of premium imported Honeycrisp apples sent over to the office.

That afternoon, when the courier carried the box in, Rick McCutcheon eagerly sliced it open with a box cutter himself, right in front of the entire studio.

The bright red apples gave off a sweet, tempting fragrance.

Standing in the middle of the office with a magnanimous grin, he announced, "This is a holiday gift from Mr. Kilcher. You've all been working hard lately, so help yourselves."

He acted as though he'd paid for the expensive fruit out of his own pocket to reward his staff.

But none of the studio's veteran employees even dared to look up.

Every one of us knew exactly what was going on.

Rick had no bottom line whatsoever. The only thing that defined him was his downright pathological stinginess.

Just how cheap was he?

In the summer, the office temperature had to climb above 32°C before anyone was allowed to turn on the air conditioning. If it ran even a minute too long, he'd screenshot the security footage and dock the office administrator's performance pay.

He made everyone water down the hand soap by the sink. After being diluted a dozen times, it was so thin it couldn't even work up a lather. It was basically a bottle of tap water.

If someone so much as charged their phone at their desk, he'd post a long, snide rant in the company group chat in the middle of the night, accusing people of shamelessly stealing the company's electricity and treating the office like a free charging station.

So who would actually dare to take one of those premium apples, supposedly worth fifteen dollars apiece?

The two interns, both fresh out of college, huddled at their desks without so much as a glance toward the break room.

Everyone would rather go downstairs and buy bottled water at the convenience store than touch any of Rick's "gifts."

That night, I stayed late at my desk alone to rush out the first draft of the proposal for Mr. Kilcher's project. I kept at it until after nine.

I hadn't even had time for a sip of hot water. Years of irregular meals had left my empty stomach churning with acid.

I stared at my computer screen, seeing stars.

I couldn't hold out any longer. I figured I'd eat something to tide me over before getting back to work, so I wouldn't pass out from low blood sugar at the office.

So I went to the break room and took an apple from the box.

I'd just carried it to the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse it when Rick appeared out of some pitch-black corner.

He was too cheap to even turn on the hallway lights. Like a ghost, he fixed his eyes on what was in my hand.

"Well, well, Josh. Quite the appetite you've got there," he said, his face cold and his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I paused, not seeing anything wrong. "Rick, I'm working late on Mr. Kilcher's proposal. I didn't have time for dinner, so I grabbed an apple to tide me over."

Rick sneered and took a step closer. "Working overtime means you're inefficient. You can't finish your work during the day, so how can you expect the company to pay for your dinner?

"These imported apples cost fifteen dollars each. With one bite, you've taken a big chunk out of the company's profits."

I was baffled. It sounded downright absurd. "Rick, these apples were a free gift from a client. The company didn't spend a cent on them. Besides, you're the one who told everyone to help themselves this afternoon."

Rick's eyes went wide, as if I'd committed some unforgivable crime. "When I said help yourselves, I was just being polite as the boss. You actually took it seriously?

"You've been here ten years. How do you still not understand the most basic workplace etiquette?

"This is company property! If everyone stuffed their faces the second they saw something nice around here, like you just did, this company would go under tomorrow!"

I stood there holding the half-rinsed apple, a chill running down my spine.

I didn't want to argue with him over something this trivial. It would only drag me down to his level.

Right in front of him, I bit into the apple, then turned and went back to my desk.

I thought this was just another one of his usual stingy outbursts.

I never imagined it was only the beginning of his campaign to crush and torment me.