Chapter 3

"No difference," Michael snorted. "I decide what you do every single day. The only reason you have food on your table is that I approve the checks. First rule of being an employee: obey. I give orders, and you carry them out. No questions asked."

Rage ignited in my chest, hot and bright. If not for the $1.5-million commission waiting at year-end, I would have thrown the files in his face.

Fine. I'd like to see what this incompetent hack could pull off.

After stepping out of his office, I slipped into the stairwell and began calling my clients with a sly smile. "Regarding our deal, there's something important we need to discuss about our cooperation."

Time flew by, and before I knew it, the results of the civil service exam were released. I ranked first in both the written and interview sections. I jumped up, my heart pounding with joy.

The next morning, I arrived early at the office and settled into my desk. Behind closed doors, Michael was heard screaming at Ethan.

Delighted, I hummed under my breath. Ethan was utterly incompetent, and as a direct result, the projected sales plummeted by a staggering 20%.

Soon, the annual gala arrived, complete with the much-anticipated bonus award ceremony. Surprisingly, Michael called Ethan to the stage first, handing him a check for 500,000 dollars and encouraging him to keep up the good work in the coming year.

The other employees exchanged puzzled glances, all knowing how useless Ethan was.

Next, Michael announced my name with a beaming smile. He praised my sales record and urged me to keep contributing. I smiled politely, but my mind was fixed solely on the money.

To secure that $30-million deal, I worked through countless late nights, endured rejection after rejection, and sat through endless dinners until I nearly vomited.

That money was earned with blood, sweat, and tears. With it, I could finally take my mother abroad for surgery and end her daily suffering.

Once his speech concluded, Michael clapped his hands enthusiastically, prompting a staff member to wheel in three loaded carts.

Pointing to them with a grin, he explained, "Taking a humanistic approach to employee care and considering how hard you've worked this year, we have gone ahead and converted your bonus into these practical items for your convenience."

I stared at the carts piled with shabby, rundown goods, and for a moment, my brain struggled to process the absurdity of it all.

He reached over and picked up a bottle of inferior shampoo from one of the carts. "We've thoughtfully prepared everyday essentials for you, so you won't have to waste time shopping by yourself. And knowing about your mother's situation, we've included walnut and milk powder—excellent nutrition."

I took a closer look, noticing they had expired a full year ago.

"What about my $1.5 million?" I asked.

He gestured back at the goods reassuringly. "Don't worry. The bonus is all accounted for. These items add up to exactly $1.5 million in value. You've done a great job, and we would never shortchange a top performer like you."

He started the applause. "Let's all give a big round of applause for this year's sales champion."

My colleagues in the audience looked at me with mockery or sympathy. I glanced at the price tag of that shampoo that had no proper branding or safety certifications. Absurdly, it was marked at 999 dollars.

So, that was how they had contrived to reach the amount.

Fury welled up inside me, making me grind my teeth in rage. Did this jerk really think I was that gullible?

"I need that money to cover my mom's medical treatment," I insisted. "You can take these goods back. I have no use for them."

Enunciating each word with deliberate clarity, I added, "The contract is explicit. I am entitled to my full$1.5-million commission."

Michael's face hardened, and he launched into a tirade. "Do you have no gratitude? We've bent over backward thinking of every little detail for you, even preparing all your household supplies in advance. These items are worth a full $1.5 million, yet you're greedy for cash?"

Why should the incompetent Ethan walk away with 500,000 dollars while I was stuck with a worthless pile of junk?

My voice rose sharply in outrage. "What you're doing is illegal!"

He let out a disdainful laugh. "Then go ahead and sue me. Am I supposed to be afraid of a little punk like you?"

Right then, my phone chimed with an incoming text message: [Lisa Matthews, congratulations on securing the Enforcement Officer position at the tax bureau.]