Chapter 4He Asked Where My Money Went So I Read Him The Bill

Mr. Davies didn't look at her. He pointed at the manila envelope on the desk, his voice like ice.

“Veronica. Explain this to me. What is going on?”

Veronica’s gaze fell on the envelope, and the smile on her face stiffened. She walked over, picked up the folder, and slowly began flipping through the documents.

She turned the pages one by one, very slowly.

The office was so quiet I could hear the shush-shush of her fingernails against the paper.

“Oh, these are Leo’s expense reports.” She finally spoke, her tone light, as if discussing the weather. “I was just about to process them. It hasn’t hit the end-of-month closing date yet.”

I let out a low, cold laugh.

Mr. Davies snapped his head up and glared at her. “Not hit the closing date? The September reports, and it’s now the end of October? And you’re telling me it hasn’t hit the closing date?”

Veronica seemed startled by the intensity of his rage, but she quickly regained her composure, adopting an injured expression.

“Mr. Davies, you know our compliance is very strict. Leo’s… his submissions had too many issues. Non-compliant here, missing documentation there. I was protecting the company! If an external audit finds an issue, I’m the one on the hook.”

As she spoke, she glanced at me, her eyes holding a touch of reproach, as if I were the clueless troublemaker.

“Too many issues?” Mr. Davies picked up my work phone, which I had left on the desk, opened the Notes app, and threw it in front of her. “Look for yourself. Does this list accurately reflect the ‘issues’ you raised?”

Veronica picked up the phone, and her face instantly drained of color.

The list was written in plain, clear detail:

“Sept 20. Submitted. Veronica said receipt gluing was non-compliant. Rejected.”

“Sept 25. Second submission. Veronica said capital letters for the amount were incorrect. Rejected.”

“Oct 9. Third submission. Veronica said meal receipt lacked itemized statement. Rejected.”

“Oct 15. Submitted October reports. Veronica said executive signature order was incorrect. Rejected.”

“Oct 22. Resubmitted. Veronica claimed one cab receipt showed evidence of alteration. Entire batch rejected.”

Line after line, item after item, they stood as carved indictments.

Veronica’s face ran the gamut of emotions, from red to white to a sickly green. Her hands began to shake, her lips trembled, and she couldn’t utter a single word.

“Veronica.” Mr. Davies’ voice was squeezed through clenched teeth. “I’m asking you one more time. Did you do this?”

“I… I…” Cold sweat beaded on Veronica’s forehead. She looked at me desperately, her eyes pleading.

I ignored her and simply kept my gaze fixed on Mr. Davies.

I wasn’t here to argue with her today. I was here to resolve a problem.

“Mr. Davies, I have a little more you might want to see.”

I pulled out my personal phone and opened a folder.

Inside were several audio clips and one video.

I played an audio clip first.

It was my conversation with Veronica.

“Veronica, I genuinely can’t get an itemized receipt for this fast-food place. They said their system doesn't generate one.”

“Then my hands are tied. Policy is policy. Leo, I’m not singling you out. Anyone else would face the same standards.” Her gentle, warm voice played back from the phone.

I immediately followed it with the video.

The footage was slightly shaky; I had covertly recorded it near the finance office doorway.

In the frame, Mitch, the boss’s nephew, was handing Veronica that handwritten IOU—the “white bar receipt”—grinning.

“Veronica, need a cash advance.”

“You little spender.” Veronica smiled, counted five hundred dollars in cash from her drawer, and handed it to him without even glancing at the note.

The video finished playing.

You could hear a pin drop in the office.

Veronica’s face was utterly colorless, like a blank sheet of paper. She slumped in the chair, her gaze vacant.

Mr. Davies stared at her, his eyes blazing. He picked up the ashtray on his desk, seemingly intending to throw it, but stopped halfway and slammed it down.

“Veronica,” he said, his voice flat and deliberate. “You are truly something else.”

He stood up and began pacing the office, like a caged animal.

The life and death of his entire company rested on his shoulders, and his trusted Finance Manager had been using this petty, underhanded method to force out his most capable employee.

He stopped, turning to face me, his eyes showing a seriousness I had never seen before.

“Leo, I apologize.”

He said it.

“This was my failure.”

Then, he turned to Veronica, his voice devoid of all emotion.

“Right now. Calculate every single one of Leo’s outstanding reimbursements. To the penny. Then, transfer the full amount to his account. From your personal funds.”

Veronica snapped her head up, unable to believe her ears. “Mr. Davies! I… I don’t have that kind of money!”

“I don’t care what you have!” Mr. Davies slammed his hand on the desk. “Embezzlement, misappropriation of company funds—that’s your problem! Leo’s account must reflect that money by six a.m. this morning! Otherwise, you’ll face the full consequences!”

He pointed a shaking finger at her.

“And that Charlotte project? You go. Now.”