Chapter 4

Marcus ultimately didn't dare blame me on the phone.

He hung up, looking like his bones had been sucked out. He collapsed into his chair.

His mind was blank. All he could think was: I'm ruined.

The eight-million-dollar deal, the lifeblood of his company, was hanging by a thread because of an eighty-dollar hotel dispute.

The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"Chloe," he called out, his voice completely drained of energy.

"Yes?"

"What happened with the sample?"

"I don't know," I said, putting my hands up. "I escorted it personally the entire way.

When we did the handoff, Mr. Vance's assistant was there. They unboxed it, inspected it, and signed for it."

I was telling the truth.

The scratch was invisible to the naked eye.

The assistant had just done a quick, routine check and signed the paperwork.

Only a high-level collector like Stephen Vance would examine it with specialized tools like a rare diamond.

Marcus obviously didn't believe me.

He immediately called up TEK Group's lobby security footage.

On the screen, I was carrying the massive box, walking steadily into the lobby, and handing it over to their staff.

The entire process was seamless. No drops, no bumps.

He then had his assistant call the ride-share company, trying to get the driver's dashcam footage.

But he was told that to protect passenger privacy, in-car footage was only kept for twenty-four hours. It had already been overwritten.

Marcus slammed his fist on the desk, rattling his pen holder.

He couldn't find a single shred of evidence to prove I was negligent.

But he knew deep down that the problem came from that ridiculous cross-city commute.

Yet, he couldn't say it out loud. To admit it would be to admit that his proud "company policy" was a complete joke.

"You," he pointed at me, his finger shaking violently. "Get out. You're done."

"Sure," I nodded.

"But before I go, please sign off on my expense report and return my withheld bonus."

"You dare ask for money?!" Marcus roared, standing up, his eyes bloodshot.

"Why wouldn't I?" I met his gaze, unflinching.

"I completed the company task. I strictly followed the travel policy despite the risk of being penalized again."

"I am taking what is rightfully mine."

"As for the transit damage," I shifted my tone.

"I think the company needs to reflect on why it has such absurd travel policies. Policies that force employees to use high-risk methods just to get the job done."

I pointed the finger right back at him.

"You, Marcus. You created this risk."

"Now that something went wrong, you want me to take the fall?"

My voice was quiet, but every word felt like a nail hammering into everyone's hearts.

My coworkers, who had all been docked pay or penalized under his bizarre rules, looked at Marcus with a different expression now.

Anger, contempt, and quiet satisfaction.

Marcus was speechless.

He knew that if he didn't pay me today, he would lose the entire office.

His company would fall apart.

His secretary, who always took his side, silently picked up my expense report and the bonus dispute form. She walked over to the finance office and knocked on the door.

That was the signal.

His authority had collapsed.

He stared at me, his eyes filled with a deep, hopeless dread. A growl caught in his throat, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

He slumped back into his chair, waving his hand like he was shooing away a fly.

"Give it to her. Tell her to get out."