I watched Claude in silence, then let out a small, soft laugh. “What do you think?”

I waited for him to make his choice.

His eyes lingered on my face for three seconds before he looked away, the decision made.

“Caroline, I have to say, this data is concerning.” Claude cleared his throat, his voice taking on a carefully measured tone of authority. “As a startup, we must be strict about attendance and financial discipline. Rules are rules.”

I saw a flash of triumph in Lia’s eyes.

“In that case,” Claude turned to the CFO, “immediately suspend all of Caroline’s internal system access. CRM, financial approvals, and access to all high-level documents. All of it, suspended.”

Without looking up, David nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Furthermore,” Claude continued, “Lia, I’m officially putting you in charge of recovering the $150,000 in improper expenses. We're running a lean ship, and every dollar counts.”

“No problem, CEO,” Lia responded almost instantly, her voice buzzing with excitement. “I’ll draw up a detailed recovery plan to ensure the company’s interests are protected.”

She shot me a look, her challenge naked and clear. “This kind of violation must be dealt with seriously. We can’t make exceptions for personal relationships.”

Claude nodded, satisfied. “Good. Also, this needs to be announced company-wide, as a lesson to all employees.”

I finally understood their game.

This wasn’t about discipline. It was a carefully orchestrated coup.

Claude wanted my client list—the contacts for top Wall Street investors, the access to private clubs.

And Lia wanted my job.

She thought that by taking me down, she could just slide into my chair and become Claude’s new right-hand woman.

How naive.

After announcing the punishment, Claude looked at me with false sincerity. “Don’t worry, Caroline. Once you’ve paid back the money, I’ll restore your position. Everything will be back to normal.”

“Oh, and by the way,” Claude added, with feigned nonchalance, “since you’re temporarily unable to perform your duties, we can’t leave those important clients hanging. You’ll need to hand over your client list as well.”

I slowly stood up, pulled a sleek black folder from my handbag, and placed it gently on the table.

“Here are all the client contacts and follow-up records,” I said, my voice calm.

A greedy light flashed in Claude’s eyes as he eagerly reached for it.

“I hope,” I said, taking a step back and smiling at him, “that you can actually handle them.”

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in my office, listening to the constant ping of notifications from outside.

A company-wide email had just gone out with the subject line: Disciplinary Action Against PR Director Caroline for Serious Violations of Attendance and Financial Policies.

The email detailed my “crimes”: chronic unexcused absences, using company resources for personal enjoyment, severe violation of company asset management policies, creating a terrible influence…

I could hear the whispers in the hallway.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Caroline skipped so much work.”

“A hundred and fifty thousand dollars? That’s insane…”

“I always knew there was something off about all her luxury goods…”

“Good for Lia. Let’s see her show off now…”

The same colleagues who used to swarm me with toasts at company dinners, the same subordinates who greeted me warmly in the elevator, were now gossiping about my downfall like vultures circling.

I looked at the vase of white roses on my desk, freshly replaced by my secretary this morning, dewdrops still clinging to the petals.

How naive I’d been, thinking that genuine effort would be met with genuine loyalty.

Just then, the office door was shoved open.

Lia strode in, followed by a finance intern holding a freshly printed document.

She walked right up to my desk and slapped the paper down.

“Caroline,” she said, looking down at me with the arrogance of a victor, “here’s the detailed bill from the finance department. A total of one hundred fifty-seven thousand, four hundred and twenty-three dollars. The CEO has already signed off on it.”

“You have three days to pay it back. Otherwise, according to section 47 of the employee handbook, the company has the right to deduct it from your year-end bonus and stock dividends.”

I picked up the bill and read it carefully.

“Interesting,” I said with a slight laugh. “Lia, do you know what these numbers are?”

Her brow furrowed, clearly not expecting my question. “What do you mean?”

“These are the list prices,” I said, setting the bill down. “But I used my personal membership cards, which give me a 30-40% discount at each of these places.”

Lia’s expression flickered, but she quickly recovered. “So what? You still violated the rules.”

“So,” I continued, “for these 157,000inexpenses,Iactuallyonlyspentaround157,000inexpenses,Iactuallyonlyspentaround110,000. But now you’re asking me to reimburse the full price?”

The finance intern beside her muttered, “It’s true, if there was a membership discount…”

“Shut up!” Lia snapped, then turned back to me. “Caroline, don’t try to play games. The fact is you misused company funds. Any discounts are your personal business and have nothing to do with the company.”

I looked at her, a cold glint in my eye. “So you’re telling me that it’s my fault for using my personal membership to save the company money?”

“Exactly!” Lia said, defiant. “And since you admit you used your membership cards, that just proves they're company assets now. You used them for company business. Therefore, they belong to the company. You’ll have to surrender them as compensation.”

“Also,” Lia continued, her voice filled with vengeful glee, “from now on, all of your expense reports and off-site activities must be approved and signed by me, the new director. After all, the company needs someone to supervise your actions.”

The new director?

I almost laughed out loud.

Promoting an intern with a few months of experience to a director-level position… Claude was really pulling out all the stops to replace me.

“Fine.” I picked up a pen and signed my name at the bottom of the bill. “Done.”

Lia was clearly surprised by my compliance. She paused for a second, then snatched the document with a smirk. “Good. It seems you know what’s good for you.”

She scanned my office, her eyes lingering on the imported Italian wood desk and the abstract painting on the wall.

“Oh, one more thing,” Lia said with a triumphant smile. “You’ll need to clear out of this office.”

“What?”

“Claude just decided to assign this senior office to me. After all, as the new director, I need a workspace befitting my new station.” Her tone was dripping with pride. “As for you, you’re just a disciplined employee now. A regular cubicle will be more than enough.”

I couldn’t be bothered to fight her over something so petty. I’d let her enjoy her victory for a few more days.

I packed a few important personal items into my handbag and walked out.

Then, I called my personal lawyer.

“I need to consult with you about the illegal seizure of private property by a company, and the legal process for recovering compensation.”

“Evidence? I have it. Every transfer record, every invoice, and the recordings of every damn meeting. I’ve kept everything.”

My lawyer’s response was confident. “Any memberships and associated benefits under your personal name are your private property. No company has the right to forcibly confiscate them. If they try, we can file a lawsuit immediately.”

After hanging up, I took another document from my handbag.

It was the deed to this office building. The buyer’s name was mine.

Three years ago, to protect Claude’s pride and ease his startup’s financial burden, I had bought the building and leased it to his company anonymously for $30,000 a month.

The actual market rate for a building like this was $250,000 a month.

I remembered the day we signed the lease, Claude had said, “Caroline, we’re so lucky to have found such a great office in a prime location.”

I had just smiled and said, “We are lucky.”

Looking back, I was so naive.

I heard Lia’s excited voice behind me. She was on the phone with contractors, eagerly demanding they redecorate the office immediately.

Before long, a few movers came out, carrying my expensive ergonomic chair and other office supplies.

“Just toss it in the trash! No one wants it anyway!”

I watched as the items, once part of my carefully curated workspace, were carelessly dumped in a corner of the hallway.

It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t need them anymore.

Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.

It was an update from Lia on Instagram.

I opened it to see a selfie of her in my old office.

In the photo, she was sitting in a brand-new leather chair, holding a glass of champagne, with the caption: “New office, new beginning! Grateful for the company’s trust. Finally moved into the director’s office! #Promotion #BossLady #HardWorkPaysOff”

Below the photo were a dozen likes and fawning comments from colleagues.

Expressionless, I liked the post.

I hoped she enjoyed that chair. I wondered how long she’d get to sit in it.

The next morning, as soon as I arrived, Linda from HR walked over to me.

“Caroline,” she said, her expression awkward, “I need to talk to you.”

She pulled a document from her briefcase.

“The company has decided to put you on a one-week observation period.” She avoided my gaze. “Your future role will be determined based on your attitude this week.”

“Observation?” I laughed softly. “You mean demoted and on unpaid leave.”

Linda blushed. “Caroline, you know I don’t want to do this, but it’s a decision from the top…”

“I understand,” I cut her off. “So who’s taking over my clients?”

“Lia,” Linda said quickly. “She’s been officially promoted to Senior Client Director and will be responsible for all major client accounts. So, you’ll need to transfer all your current client resources to her.”

Senior Client Director.

It seemed Claude had given her more than just my office; he’d given her a brand new title.

When I walked back into the office that was once mine, I barely recognized it.

The abstract painting on the wall had been replaced with gaudy decorative art. My carefully chosen minimalist furniture was gone, replaced by gilded, faux-Baroque pieces. The entire space looked like a nouveau-riche living room.

Lia sat behind the desk in a new Chanel suit, flipping through the client files I’d left behind.

“You’re here?” she said without looking up. “Have a seat.”

I sat down in the visitor’s chair. This little power play was... interesting.

“I need you to brief me on a few key clients,” Lia said, picking up a file. “Especially this one, Arthur Wellington. Tell me what he likes.”

Arthur Wellington.

A small smile played on my lips.

“Arthur is very important,” I nodded. “He’s an avid golfer. Plays at the Westchester Country Club.”

Lia’s eyes lit up as she quickly jotted down the information.

It was all true.

Arthur Wellington did have those hobbies.

I just didn’t tell her that Arthur Wellington was my uncle, and his interest in partnering with us was purely a favor to me.

And I certainly didn’t tell her that the Westchester Country Club was one of my family’s businesses.

Lia closed her notebook, looking smug. “Perfect. I’m sure I can close this deal now.”

“Since you’ve been so cooperative, I’m in a good mood. I might even put in a good word for you with Claude.”

I ignored her childish boasting and drove straight to the Westchester Country Club.

Robert, the club manager, hurried over to me. “Miss Caroline, how may I assist you today?”

“Robert, I need to make some changes to my membership,” I said directly. “From today onward, no one is permitted to enter the club using my VIP card or my name unless I am physically present.”

Robert nodded. “Understood. I’ll inform the front desk and security immediately.”

“Also,” I continued, “if they try to apply for a new membership to get in, they are to be denied.”

“I understand, Miss Caroline. We will enforce these rules strictly.”

After handling things at the club, I waited on the curb for my driver.

The autumn sunset in New York was beautiful. The leaves on the sycamore trees were turning yellow, and pedestrians hurried by in light jackets.

Just then, a black Maybach turned the corner and pulled up beside me.

I recognized it as Claude’s car.

The window rolled down, revealing Claude’s fake smile.

Lia was in the passenger seat, wearing her new Chanel suit, reapplying her lipstick.

“Well, well, Caroline!” Lia said, deliberately lowering the window, her voice filled with exaggerated surprise. “What are you doing here? Waiting for the bus?”

Claude chuckled along. “Lia, don’t be like that. Caroline is probably just out for a walk.”

“We’re on our way to Le Bernardin to celebrate,” Lia said, showing off. “Celebrating me successfully taking over the company’s biggest client. Arthur Wellington is signing the contract with me tomorrow. An eighty-million-dollar investment!”

“By the way,” Lia added just before the window rolled up, “don’t forget to pay back that hundred and fifty thousand in three days! Or we’ll have to take it out of your stock dividends!”

The Maybach sped away with a roar, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

I watched the car disappear down the street, and my expression turned to ice.