Didn't bother arguing. Just glanced at my phone.

Still no reply to the message I sent this morning.

Everyone was suddenly a critic, taking turns throwing shade.

"Logistics is sick of her. She wants itemized receipts like we're stealing or something."

"Procurement can't move without her picking through every contract."

"HR's got beef too—"

White noise.

I typed a follow-up to the CEO, still off on his business trip:

[Mr. Gainey, can you approve my resignation today?]

***

The screen finally lit up.

Mr. Gainey replied:

[Unbelievable! We're mid-IPO. You can't just bail. Whatever's going on, I'll fix it when I'm back. Don't stir up drama right now.]

And just like that, any last shred of doubt? Gone.

All I felt was ice.

I'd already figured him out. Mr. Gainey didn't give a damn about finance department.

If he did, he wouldn't have blown off every suggestion I made to tighten up reimbursements.

Or trashed my idea to give the business teams even a basic crash course in finance.

The office drama was still in full swing when I looked up from my phone.

Winnie caught it and lost it, voice climbing like a fire alarm.

"Rina, are you even paying attention? What is this attitude?!"

I locked my screen and looked up, deadpan.

"Ms. Dunn. Everyone. Are you done?"

Silence. Not even a cough.

I stood, walked over to Winnie's desk, and grabbed the pile of reimbursement forms Bella had slammed down earlier.

Gave it a little wave.

"So, since I'm apparently the villain holding this company back—fine."

I turned to Bella and dropped the stack right into her hands. My voice didn't even flinch.

"Bella's all about team harmony, right? I'm officially handing it all over. Ms. Dunn, that cool with you?"

Winnie blinked like I'd slapped her. Definitely didn't see that coming.

But Peter jumped in like he'd been waiting for this moment.

"Great idea. Let Bella handle it. She's young, flexible!"

"Yeah, finally some fresh blood!" another one chimed in.

Winnie caught the shift in the room and pounced. Anything to push me out.

"Bella, you're in charge of Rina's duties now. Do it right. Don't screw this up."

Bella lit up like she just won prom queen. Girl was practically vibrating.

She hit me with a smug look and thumped her chest. "Don't worry, Ms. Dunn! And everyone else—relax! I'll handle everything. No delays!"

I smiled, just a little. "I'll send an email to make the handover official. After that, it's all yours."

Still on her little power high, she waved me off. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. No need to nag!"

I didn't bother replying. Just turned back to my desk and quietly started packing up my stuff.

***

The rest of the afternoon felt weird.

I kept my head down—sorted files, wiped my computer. Quiet. Clean.

Meanwhile, Bella was living her dream, buried in forms and loving every second. She was basically a human stamp at that point. No reviews, no double-checks, just "approved, approved, approved."

The department heads swarmed her with fake praise and fatter claims, and she lapped it all up like free samples.

Halfway through, an old coworker messaged me:

[Rina, you're seriously done? Those claims are a trainwreck...]

I replied:

[Head hurts. Can't read the reimbursement forms.]

By a little after 4, the company group chat was blowing up with Bella fan club energy.

[Bella's so efficient!]

[Finally, no more that old rule-spewing robot. Some folks really needed to make room.]

And of course, Bella couldn't help herself. Drenched in compliments, she got bold.

She tagged me in the main chat:

[@Rina, no offense, but I think you were just overcomplicating reimbursements. Things have been way smoother since I stepped in.]

I didn't reply.

Bella clearly hated being ignored, so she started sending me daily updates on her "progress." Like I needed a play-by-play of her approval spree.

She was greenlighting every single prepayment request now—some with extra fluff.

I saw one where she handed Sales Team 2 a $100K "team-building" budget for the second half of the year. I didn't say a thing.

That team had been bleeding red for two straight quarters. Mr. Gainey was already whispering about layoffs.

Meanwhile, Winnie made her own little catwalk past my desk every day—new outfit, new designer bag, same smug face.

Whenever our eyes met, she'd tilt her chin and drop another jab. "Some people get way too emotional about handling other people's money. At the end of the day, she's just a guard dog. And when a dog misbehaves? You replace it."

Bella was right on her heels, practically synced up. "Ms. Dunn, is that crocodile leather? Just say the word—I'll file the reimbursement ASAP."

Then someone from another department walked up. "Rina, the account's short by a dollar. Should we organize a check?"

I pressed my fingers to my temple. "My eyes are killing me. I seriously can't deal with this."

Bella jumped in before I could finish. "What's there to check? It's a dollar. I'll cover it. Crisis averted."

Next, someone else popped over. "Rina, the tax deadline's coming up. What's the plan?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "File what? Rina's been clueless about taxes forever. I'll just wine and dine the rep a little—save us a fortune."

I stared at them like I was watching a slow-mo shipwreck.

But this time? I wasn't going down with it.

Month-end closing came fast. I double-checked everything—backups done, responsibilities handed off—then logged into HR and cashed out my unused vacation days.

A second later, Winnie's reply popped up:

[Vacation approved. You're an eyesore anyway. The sooner you're gone, the better!]

Predictable. I shut down my computer, feeling weirdly satisfied, and started getting ready to leave.

But just as I stood, my phone buzzed.

Mr. Gainey's voice came through sharp and shaky.

"Rina, what the hell is happening? Where's the money? The account's been drained—dozens of transfers just cleared. We're missing almost $800,000! Where is it?!"

I didn't flinch. "Mr. Gainey, Bella's managing the company account now. She was assigned by Ms. Dunn—with support from your department heads. What she approved and how? Not my responsibility."

Right then, I heard fast footsteps outside.

A coworker burst in, white as a sheet.

"The tax bureau's here! The system flagged some warnings—they're launching a full audit!"