Chapter 2

"Manager Sera, I cannot approve this $75,000 entertainment expense."

Chloe, our finance intern, gently slid the reimbursement form back to me. Her voice was soft, but her tone was rock hard.

I frowned, not understanding her problem.

"This is the pre-approved budget for our onboarding project with Grandview Group. The contract is worth thirty million dollars. Pre-meeting hospitality is standard procedure."

"But," Chloe looked up, her eyes filled with undisguised disgust, "I saw Mr. Harrison from Grandview yesterday. He is hideous. Fat, greasy, and looks like a wild boar. For our company to spend this much money hosting someone like him—isn't that basically selling our bodies and dignity for profit?"

I was temporarily speechless. Since when did multi-million dollar corporate mergers depend on the client's looks?

Around us, the other accountants stopped typing. The office fell dead silent.

I looked at her. She was wearing a high ponytail, round-rimmed glasses, and carried the face of a pure, justice-seeking intern.

"I believe business should be won through capability, not by sucking up to pigs over dinners," she said. She picked up a black pen and crossed out the numbers on my form with smooth, practiced strokes.

"Seventy-five thousand is too much. Fifty dollars is plenty. Let’s buy a few packs of bottled water. That’s more than enough hospitality for him."

The black pen dragged across the paper.

"$75,000" was aggressively crossed out. Next to it, she wrote a bold, mocking "$50."

Then, she gracefully signed her name: *Chloe, Finance Intern.*

"Chloe," I kept my voice as calm as possible, "do you actually realize what you are doing?"

"Of course I do," she smiled, handing the paper back to me. "According to company policy, even interns have auditing rights. I find this expense unreasonable, so I have the right to adjust it."

I took the fifty-dollar request form, completely dumbfounded.

As I turned to leave the finance department, I caught her whispering to the girl next to her:

"Look at her. You just know she slept her way to the top. It's disgusting. Wearing that designer skirt and heavy makeup—does she look like she’s here to actually work? No wonder HQ parachuted her straight into a manager position!"

My steps paused, but I didn't turn around.

It was true that I was parachuted in.

But I was a Senior Compliance Investigator from the Corporate Integrity Division!

Not only do I have workplace paranoia, but I also believe in eye-for-an-eye.

I have been cautious my entire life.

My father used to be a mid-level manager at a state-backed firm. When he was forty, a subordinate framed him for taking kickbacks.

The man forged receipts and edited voice recordings. My father had no way to prove his innocence.

The investigation dragged on for six agonizing months. Although he was eventually cleared, his career was ruined, and his spirit was completely broken.

During those six months, I watched my mother cry herself to sleep every night. I watched our relatives and friends abandon us. I watched my father’s hair turn white overnight.

From that moment on, I learned a hard truth: rumors can kill, but hard evidence keeps you safe.

I majored in corporate law and joined HQ’s Compliance Department right after graduation.

In seven years, I climbed from a basic assistant to a Senior Investigator. I’ve handled dozens of internal investigations. I have seen too many people get framed by envious colleagues and end up in orange jumpsuits just because of one careless mistake.

So, I developed a habit: leave a paper trail for everything, and back up every single file.

Every conversation I have is legally recorded within compliance boundaries.

Every email is archived chronologically.

Every time I meet a client, I log my itinerary and purpose in the internal system beforehand.

My phone holds three encrypted cloud drives, and my journals record every detail of my work over the years.

My colleagues mock me for having "workplace paranoia." I just smile.

They have never seen how fast a person can fall from grace. I have.

My father was the perfect example.

So, from the very first day I landed in this coastal branch for this undercover audit, I started recording.

The voice recorder in my pocket was always on.

A tiny pin-camera was attached to my blazer, capturing everything.

I would never give anyone the chance to ruin me.