Chapter 2

Inside the office, Miller sat behind his mahogany desk, nursing a cup of tea. Marcus, the finance director, and Brenda, the HR manager, were both there.

Tyler stood right behind Miller, grinning at me smugly.

Marcus sighed. "Ethan, you're a senior employee. If this gets out, it won’t look good for anyone. You should just submit your resignation."

"What are you talking about?"

Miller snapped, "Your procurement kickbacks, of course!"

"I never took kickbacks!"

"Cut the act, Ethan. Legally speaking, this could land you in prison. Asking you to resign quietly is already the company showing mercy."

Tyler stoked the fire from the side. "Tyler’s right. The company is giving you a graceful way out," Brenda chimed in.

I couldn't believe it. Five years of loyal, dedicated work shattered by a couple of lies from a newbie who had been here for two months.

To say I wasn't hurt would be a lie.

In that instant, the fight left me. I didn't even want to argue with them anymore.

Since they truly believed $50 could buy quality, let them choke on it.

Some people simply don't deserve good things.

"Fine. I'll resign."

Remembering my mom's monthly nag to "come home and take over the factory," leaving didn't sound bad at all.

Just as I turned to leave, Marcus and Miller exchanged a glance. Marcus spoke up.

"Ethan, walking away like this leaves a stain on your name. How about this: pay back the kickbacks you took over the years. Then, Miller will personally clear your reputation so it won't hurt your next job."

I rolled my eyes internally. My next job was none of their business.

Still, he made one fair point: I couldn't leave with dirt smeared on my name.

"Since you don't believe me, hire an external audit. Whatever discrepancy they find, I'll pay back tenfold. How's that?"

"You said it yourself!" Miller said, his eyes lighting up as if his reverse psychology had worked. He practically drooled at the thought of finding a $100,000 discrepancy so I'd have to pay him a million.

"Ethan, organize the procurement records from the past five years. We're running an audit. Until then, hand all purchasing duties over to Tyler."

Back at my desk, I leaned against my chair and looked at the clock in the bottom right corner of my monitor: 3:47 PM.

The office was eerily quiet. Even the typing sounds seemed muffled and cautious.

I began sorting through five years of supplier lists, business cards, quote comparisons, and price sheets, archiving them one by one.

From when I joined at twenty-two until now at twenty-seven, I had poured my best years into this small firm.

It wasn't because the pay was extraordinary. I simply thought my coworkers were nice people, free from toxic office politics.

Because of that, I once camped out at a supplier's factory for a full week just to lock down the lowest wholesale price. Every holiday eve, when everyone else went home, the procurement office stayed lit as I scoured spreadsheets line by line, shaving off every single penny.

Over the last few years, the economy slumped and company profits dipped.

I swallowed my pride and begged my mom to supply our autumn and winter holiday gift baskets at dead cost, saving the firm tens of thousands of dollars.

I never bragged about any of it.

I thought there was no need.

And yet here we were. A kid who had been around for less than two months dropped two snide comments in a group chat, and suddenly my five years of sacrifice turned into proof of corruption.

It cut deep.

"Ethan."

I looked up. Tyler was standing beside my desk, clutching a pile of folders. The look on his face was a sickening blend of smugness and fake sympathy, his lips curled in a slight smirk while his eyes tried to look concerned.

"Miller sent me to pick up the procurement archives. You know..."

He put extra weight on the words "Miller sent me."

I glanced at him without a word and pushed three heavy archive boxes forward.

"Everything from the last three years is here. Contracts, invoice copies, vendor quotes, and price comparison sheets."

Tyler took them, flipped through the top binder, and frowned slightly. "Ethan, Miller said five years."

"The other two years are in my filing cabinet. I haven't sorted them yet. If you're in a hurry, dig through them yourself."