Chapter 4

I tapped it open.

Tyler had posted a sample photo of the gift basket. It was forest green with gold embossed lettering that read "Happy Holidays." It looked surprisingly decent on the surface.

[@All Check out the packaging, everyone! My friend said this batch was made for a high-end supermarket chain. Top-notch quality, and the items are upgraded too—2 ham & cheese rolls, 2 sweet red bean rolls, 2 smoked vegetable beef rolls, 2 glazed date rolls, plus a bottle of premium maple wine, a box of artisanal butter pastries, and an aromatic sachet! The factory cost is $50, but my friend gave me a deal at just $60!]

The chat went wild.

[OMG, all that for $60?! Tyler, you're a wizard!]

[Way more cost-effective than the $130 one! That one only had lobster rolls and tea, but cost more than double...]

[Makes you wonder where our previous procurement budget actually went (whispers)]

[Tyler proves his worth immediately. Fresh talent beats old blood any day. Amazing!]

[Miller really found a gem.]

Tyler played it humble in the chat: [Aw, it's nothing. Just friends doing me a favor, plus a bit of luck~]

Then Miller joined in, dropping a thumbs-up emoji.

[@Tyler Great job. Excellent cost control. @Ethan Wrap up your procurement archives ASAP and hand everything over to Tyler. Moving forward, he will handle all purchasing. Just cooperate with the audit to clear up the past.]

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then typed: [Understood.]

The chat went quiet for a moment.

They probably didn't expect me to agree so cleanly, without a single word of defense or complaint.

A moment later, Tyler tagged me: [@Ethan Don't worry, the audit is just routine paperwork. I'm sure there won't be any problems~]

I didn't bother replying.

The next day was Thursday. I clocked in at nine as usual.

Just as I sat down, muffled voices drifted from the breakroom.

"...I'm telling you, I felt something was off for a while. Think about it, what's Ethan's monthly salary? Seven or eight grand tops? But look at how he spends. Does that look like an eight-grand lifestyle?"

It was Brad from sales.

My hand froze over my coffee mug.

"Now that you mention it, totally," another voice agreed—Zach from accounting.

"Every day when we go down for smoke breaks, he hands out cigarettes. Always top-shelf luxury brands, never anything cheap."

"Right? And have you seen his sneakers? Limited edition designer kicks! They go for several thousand on the resale market."

"No wonder! I always wondered where he got that kind of cash."

"Told you. You can't hide kickbacks forever. Acting all clean and innocent while swimming in dirty money."

"Tsk, tsk. No wonder he panicked the second Tyler spoke up..."

"Tyler's honest, putting a $50 price tag right on the table. Fair and square. Not like some people who quote $130 while pocketing God knows how much."

My mug rested on the desk. I picked it up, set it down, stood up, and walked straight toward the breakroom.

A few coworkers were huddled around the small round table eating breakfast. The moment I appeared in the doorway, the chatter died instantly.

Brad froze mid-bite with a breakfast sandwich in his hand, looking like someone had hit the pause button on him.

Zach dropped his head, aggressively stirring his coffee.

Leo from marketing offered an awkward grimace, muttered "Morning, Ethan," and slipped past me out the door.

"Morning," I walked in, my tone casual. "What's everyone chatting about so enthusiastically?"

"N-nothing," Brad laughed nervously. "Just shooting the breeze."

"Really? I thought I heard my name."