Chapter 5

"Ethan, this is your final notice. Transfer the forty-two thousand dollars in damages to the company account by 3:00 PM today, or our legal department will file a formal lawsuit."

HR called again first thing in the morning, her tone even colder this time.

"Tell your legal team to pull up my resignation log first."

"I've told you, there is no resignation log. Richard confirmed you never submitted one."

"What about the lobby security footage? I threw my badge right in front of him."

A pause.

"Ethan, I don't manage security footage. If you have an objection, take it to labor arbitration. But as of now, you owe the company forty-two thousand dollars."

I let out a soft laugh. "Fine. Tell Richard to get ready."

I hung up and pulled up the video I had recorded on my phone when I threw my badge down. It was a habit I'd picked up after three years of working under a corrupt boss—always keep receipts.

In the video, Richard was standing behind the reception desk, arms crossed, a smug sneer plastered on his face.

The timestamp was clearly visible in the bottom right corner.

I saved the video in three different places: two cloud backups and one in my email.

My phone vibrated.

Marcus Sinclair.

"Ethan, the three days are up."

"Mr. Sinclair, tomorrow. By tomorrow afternoon, I will have a complete resolution for you."

"What is going on over there? Since you left, that Tyler kid has called me eight times in three days. Yesterday he sent another contract, and the square footage was inflated by another ten percent! I showed it to my attorney, and he asked if I was being scammed."

Another ten percent.

First twenty, now ten more.

"Mr. Sinclair, keep that contract safe. Do not delete it."

"Keep it? What are you planning, Ethan?"

"You'll see tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair."

He didn't ask further and hung up.

By noon, David Harrison called.

"Ethan, is your corporate hotline a joke? I complained three times, and every single time, Richard Sterling was the one who called me back, saying they were 'handling it.' Nothing has been handled! This morning, Tyler called me again. Guess what he said?"

"What?"

"He said, 'Mr. Harrison, Ethan Vance had a terrible reputation at the firm. The contracts he drafted were full of errors. Don't worry, I'm here to clean up his mess. I'm much more reliable.' He even added, 'Ethan was just a brown-noser with zero actual talent.'"

I gripped my phone, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at a crack in the wall.

"Thank you for telling me, Mr. Harrison."

"Ethan, I'll be blunt. I trusted your firm because of you. Now that you're gone, I see what kind of clowns run that place. If you move to another agency, let me know. You'll have my business."

"Mr. Harrison, I might not need to change agencies."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

I hung up, opened my laptop, and did a final check of the files.

The kickback spreadsheet: Richard had used a shell consulting company to funnel $2.4 million in commissions over three years. Every transaction matched a bank statement belonging to an account under his wife's name.

The contract discrepancies: Out of seventeen contracts handled by Tyler, seven had inflated square footage, totaling $980,000 in excess charges. All of it had been funneled through a private intermediary account.

The fake expense reports: Out of 162 invoices submitted as "client entertainment" over three years, 83 were completely fabricated. The companies listed on the receipts didn't even exist.

I packaged everything.

My phone buzzed.

It was a screenshot from Lily. She had changed her WhatsApp name to random characters to avoid detection.

In the screenshot, Tyler had sent a voice note to the team chat.

The automated transcript read: "Hey team, heads up! Richard is buying everyone afternoon tea today to celebrate our department hitting number one in quarterly sales! And a little early celebration for my upcoming Agent of the Year title, haha."

Quarterly sales number one.

That was my $50 million deal.

Lily added a text: *Ethan, they're currently arguing over which bakery to order the cake from.*

I stared at the screen and didn't reply.

At 4:00 PM, my dad called.

"The audit team has arrived. Six corporate auditors. Their SUV is parked in your building's underground garage."

"Do they know?"

"No. They're currently throwing a victory party in the conference room."

I took one last look at my screen.

"Dad, let's do it."

A brief pause.

"Tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM, the audit team will walk directly into the office. You don't need to be there."

"I"I want to be there," I said.

My dad was silent for a moment.

"Fine."