Chapter 1

At 8:30 am on Wednesday, my phone started vibrating like crazy.

Susan Tarp, my assistant, barged in without knocking, her voice already carrying a sob.

"Ms. Clarke! We've got a problem! The company's trending on social media!"

I unlocked my phone. The screen was flooded with unread notifications. All my text messaging apps were blowing up.

I opened InstaBook. The number one trending local topic was "Shocking! One bowl of seafood thermidor costs 14 dollars—heartless company exploits interns!"

The entry had a fire emoji next to it, and the view count had already surpassed three million.

I clicked in. The attached video already had over 700 thousand views.

The video thumbnail showed our company cafeteria's serving window, with the caption reading, "An intern earning 1,500 dollars a month can't afford a single meal in the company cafeteria! How heartless are these capitalists?"

The poster's ID was "Hardworking CCP".

It was her—Cecily Plinkton, an intern who had joined the design department two months ago.

In the video, Cecily sat on the flower bed just outside the office building. The camera zoomed in deliberately, making the glint of tears at the corners of her eyes painfully obvious.

Her voice quivered, full of grievance.

"I really can't believe this… I always thought our company had the best benefits in the industry. I turned down several offers from the big tech companies just because I was drawn to the corporate culture here. I thought I'd finally found a place where I could devote my whole career to.

"But today, the cafeteria suddenly decided to charge for the seafood thermidor—and at 14 dollars per bowl, no less!"

She held up two fingers toward the camera, then folded one back.

"14 dollars!" she wailed, her voice suddenly rising sharply. "That's four dollars more expensive than the previous priciest dish."

She opened her eyes wide, and tears started sliding down at the perfect moment.

"I really want to ask the company's Administrative Director, Moira Clarke—have you lost your mind? Are you that desperate for money?

"Why do you have to treat us, the lowest-level employees, like this? Do you even know how much we make a month? How much profit do you plan on raking in per meal?"

Then, she pulled out her phone to show a screenshot.

It was an audio clip of me speaking at an internal administrative department meeting, now subtitled. My explanation that the ingredients for seafood thermidor were costly and could no longer be provided for free was maliciously edited, leaving only a single, unfeeling line.

"If you can't afford it, then don't eat it. The company doesn't support freeloaders."

At the end of the video, Cecily forced a smile at the camera.

"Forget it… Maybe I was just too naive to think that the company was my second home. I hope all fresh graduates like me will keep their eyes wide open when job hunting. Don't be like me—walking in full of hope, only to end up getting milked dry."

I clicked into the comment section. It had already blown up.

"A four-dollar price increase? Is this company planning to make a run for it? Are they that desperate for money?"

"I support you, babe! Expose that heartless director called Moira Clarke! Kick her out of the company!"

"What's the name of this trash company? Drop the name! Let's all boycott it!"

"Come out and apologize to the interns, @MoiraClarke!"

"These bloodsucking capitalists should be bound at the company entrance for public shaming!"