Chapter 1The Mistress Got My Bonus While I Got The Debt

I’d been running on fumes for two weeks straight, sacrificing weekends and late nights, but it finally paid off. I landed that twelve-million-dollar deal, the one that snatched the company back from the brink of insolvency.

My boss, Rick Graham, was ecstatic. At the victory dinner, he’d called me the “backbone of the firm” and promised me a substantial bonus.

But when the end-of-month pay stub hit my inbox, I stared at the line item for commission, and the blood drained from my face.

A debit of $250. My commission was negative?

I actually owed the company two hundred and fifty dollars?

I immediately called Finance.

“Brenda, my pay statement—there must be a mistake.”

Brenda, the payroll manager, sounded deliberately vague. “No mistake, Bella. That’s Mr. Graham’s specific cost-accounting method. He said you’d understand.”

My heart sank. I bypassed the phone and knocked directly on Graham’s door.

He handed me a sheet of convoluted figures, smiling benignly. “That twelve-million-dollar order you signed? After factoring in the resource concessions, the advance capital outlay, and hidden overhead, the company’s net loss was $150,000. Due to the, ah, personal way you structured the deal, you’re responsible for 5% of that loss, which is $7,500.”

He gestured to the sheet. “We were generous and used your entire base salary to offset it. But since your salary wasn’t enough, you still owe the company two hundred and fifty dollars. Don’t worry,” he added with a wave of his hand, “the company is big-hearted. We’ll waive that.”

Then, moments later, the firm announced a ten-thousand-dollar bonus for Piper Wells, the fresh-faced intern who had just started and was known to be a personal friend of the family.

Watching the obvious favorite excitedly invite the whole office out to celebrate her windfall, something inside me broke.

I was done. Utterly, irrevocably done.

I started doing the bare minimum. Clocking in, clocking out. Nothing more.

A few days later, a critical project faced a major flaw, threatening the company with a massive penalty. Graham begged me to fix it.

I smiled back, just as benignly as he had.

“My apologies, Graham,” I said, showing him a folder. “I just finished processing my resignation. I’m no longer an employee of this firm.”

“You’ll need to find the person who received that ten-thousand-dollar bonus to clean up the mess.”

* * *

Listening to him casually use the phrase “the company is big-hearted, we’ll waive that,” my entire body went cold. Even my fingertips were numb.

My voice shook. “Graham! To land that deal, I worked two weeks straight! I drank until I ended up in the emergency room with a bleeding ulcer! Every single concession, every clause, was reported to you and got your explicit sign-off! Now you’re claiming this is a loss caused by my personal actions?”

I pushed up the sleeve of my left arm. The red, fading scar, still clearly visible from when I’d scalded myself with coffee rushing a project report, was a perfect, angry testament.

“This is the ‘backbone of the firm’ you mentioned at the dinner? My value is negative two hundred and fifty?”

Graham’s face darkened.

“Bella Steele!” He stressed my name, his tone a clear warning. “Mind your attitude! This is a professional environment. We affirm success, but we do not ignore problems! Your value isn't measured by a headline contract amount, but by the net result! You need to think long-term, not just obsess over petty cash!”

The company was collapsing. I’d single-handedly pulled them out of the fire with that deal. And this was the reward. My soul shriveled. All the grand visions, all the promises of a future and career path—they all became sickeningly ridiculous in that moment.

I took the cost-accounting sheet and walked back to my desk.

I’d barely collapsed into my chair when Brenda, from the opposite cubicle, leaned over with a smile full of nosy anticipation. “Bella, back so soon? Mr. Graham must have given you a huge bonus, right? A contract that big, your commission must be… this much?”

She made a subtle hand gesture, her eyes wide with envy.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Negative two hundred and fifty. The sheer absurdity made me want to laugh hysterically.

Before I could form a response, Ben, a younger colleague, walked by with a coffee cup and leaned in conspiratorially.

“Bella, did you hear? Piper Wells, the new intern in Admin—she’s only been here a month, and Graham just personally approved a ten-thousand-dollar bonus! Ten grand! It’s supposedly for her ‘potential contributions.’ Some people just have all the luck.”

Piper, the boss’s relative. Her potential contribution? Ten thousand?

I landed a twelve-million-dollar contract and incurred a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar debt.

All the accumulated frustration and anger boiled over.

“How much did I get?” I sneered, opening the company-wide chat. “I’ll show you how much I got.”

I attached my pay stub and posted it.