Chapter 1

My boss was obsessed with "cutting costs and boosting efficiency."

His favorite trick was having me host VIP clients and front all the expenses.

Whenever it came time for reimbursements, though, there were always excuses, and key receipts somehow went missing.

I never made a fuss about it, quietly covering the shortfalls out of my own pocket.

Until one afternoon, I overheard my coworkers whispering behind my back in the breakroom:

"Notice how Chloe's always the one booking the five-star suites and fancy dinners for clients?"

"Yeah, and she never once complains or submits a full expense report. Imagine how much kickback money she's pocketing under the table."

My boss stood right there, sipping his coffee with an amused smirk. He didn't defend me. He basically let everyone assume I was embezzling company funds.

That completely broke my loyalty.

Over the years, how many thousands had I covered? First-class flights, luxury hotels, Michelin-starred meals. He’d only wire back a fraction months later, always feeding me the same line:

"Cash flow is tight this quarter. I'll bundle the rest in your next payout."

I had fronted at least fifty thousand dollars of my own hard-earned savings. And for what? A reputation as an office parasite lining her own pockets.

So, when my boss told me to book another round of luxury penthouses and fine dining for our biggest VIP clients...

I smiled and said yes. Then, I turned around and booked a run-down roadside motel and a cheap, greasy diner in an alley.

The tension at the table was suffocating. Everyone sat staring at the sticky laminate table, listening to the buzzing fluorescent light overhead in dead silence.

I smiled warmly. "Please, everyone, don't be shy. Help yourselves."

My boss, Richard, had a face so dark it looked like a thundercloud. The only reason he hadn’t blown his lid was because the VIP clients were sitting right there.

Veins bulged on his neck as he hissed under his breath, "Is this it? Are there more courses coming? Go tell the kitchen to hurry up."

"Everything's on the table," I replied calmly, gesturing toward the greasy plates. "Eat while it's hot. The decor might be a bit rough, but the food is authentic."

BAM!

Richard slammed his glass onto the table, his brow furrowed in fury. "We are entertaining our most important partners, and you bring them to a literal hole in the wall?!"

Beside him, the lead client, Marcus, gave a puzzled frown. "Chloe, did someone mix up the itinerary? This isn't quite the standard we're used to when working with your firm."

Normally, they’d be treated to private dining rooms at five-star hotels with wagyu steaks, fresh lobster, and vintage wine presented like works of art.

Tonight, we were crammed into a loud, narrow diner. Sure, the eight comfort-food dishes were decent diner fare, but the ambiance was nowhere near a multi-thousand-dollar corporate dinner.

No wonder they were shocked.

"No mistake," I said with a slight shake of my head.

Richard’s eyes burned red with rage. "I told you to book high-end accommodations and dining, and you drag our guests here?!"

I glanced at the cheap plates and sighed helplessly. "I'm so sorry, sir. But given the budget, this was the absolute best I could do."

My coworker, Kevin, immediately slammed his hands on the table and jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Stop playing dumb! Richard sent you six thousand dollars to arrange this whole thing!"

"This cheap meal and that filthy motel didn't even cost sixty bucks! Did you pocket the rest?!"

"I knew it! You always jump at the chance to travel and host clients because you're skimming off the top! But pulling this stunt tonight? That’s just brazen greed!"

Hearing Kevin’s accusation, the clients exchanged uneasy, suspicious glances.

Richard seized the narrative, his tone chillingly disappointed. "Chloe, I always looked the other way with your little side deals in the past."

"But tonight was about closing our company's biggest partnership. How could you be so selfish?"

A chicly dressed woman from the client's team pulled out an antiseptic wipe from her designer bag with visible disgust. "Richard, we’re not snobs, but basic food hygiene is the bare minimum, isn't it?"

She showed him the wipe—covered in a thick layer of black grime she’d just rubbed off her chair.

An older executive from their team, who had known me for years, shook his head. "Chloe, I always thought you were a bright, reliable professional. How could you resort to this?"

Disapproving stares closed in on me from every corner of the table.

Richard’s face flushed crimson as he barked, "Enough! Get on your phone, find a proper venue, and rebook right now. We'll deal with this later."

Marcus chimed in, trying to smooth things over, urging me to quickly move them to the Ritz as originally planned.

I didn’t budge. My posture stayed perfectly straight.

"I can't do that."

"What do you mean you can't?!" Richard finally lost his temper, his voice cracking.

I turned to him, looking straight into his eyes. "Richard, did you forget?"

"You only sent me six dollars today—with a note asking me to grab you a Starbucks Americano."

"As for the hotel and dinner, you told me to put it on my personal credit card like always, and that you'd 'reimburse me later.'"

Richard froze. Panic flickered across his eyes before he quickly masked it with forced composure.

He let out a dry, awkward chuckle, glaring daggers at me. "What nonsense are you talking about? I clearly wired you six grand for the arrangements."

Kevin sneered. "Still trying to lie your way out of this? I literally heard Richard telling you to book the Four Seasons!"

With Kevin backing him up, the clients looked even more doubtful.

The senior executive sighed heavily. "Embezzling company funds on a client trip... Chloe, this is a career-ending stain on your resume."

Seeing that no one believed me, I unlocked my phone, opened my mobile banking app, and spun the screen around for everyone to see.

"Take a look for yourselves. The only transfer Richard sent me today was exactly six dollars."

The memo line on the screen was crystal clear: *Grab me an iced Americano, thanks.*