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.

For the next week, I followed the company’s rules to the letter.

I clocked in at 8:59 AM and clocked out at 5:01 PM.

Not a minute early, not a minute late.

I didn’t step out of the office once to meet with a client.

I was given a small cubicle in a forgotten corner, where I sat quietly, organizing unimportant files and occasionally replying to non-essential emails.

Lia, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of performative activity.

She wore a different designer suit every day, her makeup flawless, and paraded around the office with the latest Hermès bag.

Even more ridiculously, she posted an update on Instagram almost every two hours.

“Another busy day starts! Coffee in hand, ready to conquer the business world! #BossLady #Hustle”

“Lunch meeting with a potential client. Always networking, always growing! #Entrepreneur #Success”

…

Each post was accompanied by a picture of her pretending to be busy in the office or a staged shot of a business lunch.

But in reality?

From my corner, I had a clear view of her every move.

She spent most of her time shopping online, fixing her makeup in a compact mirror, or scrolling through social media.

The few calls she made all ended in failure.

“What? Not interested? But we’re a company with great potential…”

“Wait, don’t hang up, we can negotiate the price…”

“Hello? Hello? Damn it, they hung up again!”

Listening to her get rejected time after time, I felt nothing as I continued organizing my files.

By Wednesday, things had taken a noticeable turn for the worse.

The company was starting to have cash flow problems.

Claude found me.

“Caroline, you know the company is having financial issues, don’t you?”

I looked up at him, my expression innocent. “Financial issues? That’s a shame.”

“Don’t play dumb!” Claude hissed, his voice low but fierce. “You haven’t contacted a single client this week! You haven’t brought in a single dollar!”

“Claude,” I said, putting down my documents and looking at him seriously, “I’m simply following company policy. HR informed me that I’m on an observation period and need to reflect on my violations. If I were to go out and court clients now, wouldn’t that be defying the company’s decision?”

Claude’s face grew darker. “You…”

“Besides,” I continued, “hasn’t the company already appointed Lia as the Senior Client Director? Client retention and development are her responsibilities now. How can I, a suspended employee, overstep my bounds and do her job?”

Claude’s fists clenched. I could see the veins throbbing in his temples.

“Are you threatening me?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Threatening you?” I let out a small laugh. “I’m just a law-abiding employee.”

Claude stared at me for a long, hard moment, then suddenly let out a cold laugh.

“Fine. Just fine,” he said, his voice laced with malice. “You think this company can't survive without you? Fine. Watch me. I'm closing the Wellington deal and securing a huge round of funding. I don’t need you to bring in anything!”

With that, he turned to face the entire office and announced, his voice booming so everyone could hear:

“As of today, I, as CEO, am officially informing you all that Caroline is fired! Effective immediately!”

The office fell silent. Everyone stared, shocked.

I slowly stood up, feeling no anger or resentment, and gave a calm nod.

“I understand.”

Claude clearly hadn’t expected me to be so placid. He frowned. “You have nothing to say?”

“No,” I said, starting to pack my few personal belongings. “It’s the CEO’s decision. Of course, I’ll comply.”

My reaction seemed to unnerve him.

But at that moment, I was already planning my next move.

Back home, I took a contract out of my safe.

Claude had likely forgotten that the lease for the office building his company currently occupied was set to expire the next day.

I picked up the phone and called my real estate agent, Marcus.

“The lease on my office space in Midtown Manhattan expires tomorrow. I plan to re-list it. Can you arrange that for me?”

“Of course! That location is prime real estate. I have a few clients looking for a similar space right now.”

“Excellent. Tomorrow at 10 AM, bring the highest bidder to view the property.”

Marcus’s excited voice came through the phone: “Perfect. That spot is in high demand. There’s a security firm willing to pay double the current rent.”