Chapter 1
Sloane's POV
First day back after the long weekend. I get a few artisan gift baskets shipped in from my family's farm: maple syrup, raw honey, smoked beef jerky, handmade jams. Top-shelf stuff, every single one. Shipping alone runs me a few hundred dollars.
After the morning meeting, I hand them out one by one. The team crowds around me, all smiles, falling over themselves saying things like "You're literally the best, Ms. Bennett" and "Oh my god, you're such an amazing boss."
They're barely out the door when I notice the conference room projector is still mirroring someone's phone. Up on the screen: a private group chat. Fifteen members.
Everyone on the team is in it.
Everyone except me.
A new message pops up: [Farm junk? Really? Preston Vance's team got $200 gift cards AND black truffle. Sloane's such a cheap ass lol]
Replies flood in. Someone photoshops a picture of me. Someone else hopes I drop dead at my desk.
To them, I'm just another boss squeezing her people dry.
Last quarter, I handed every single one of them a three-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own pocket. Plus a brand-new phone. Each.
Fine. If they think I'm not giving enough, I'll give them exactly what they're asking for.
Though later, when they come crawling back one by one, I find myself wondering what exactly they think begging is going to get them.
A second ago, Madison, the intern, is grinning ear to ear, holding the honey gift basket. "Ms. Bennett seriously treats us like family!"
Greg Tanner and Donna Pratt chime right in. "Honestly, working for Ms. Bennett is the best. No other team has it like this."
And then the screen refreshes.
Messages keep rolling in.
Greg: [lmao she always pulls this. Acts like she actually cares, but trust me, every move is calculated. I bet this farm stuff was just sitting in storage somewhere. She's dumping it on us and calling it a gift.]
Donna: [Right? The packaging looks so cheap. Honestly scared to even eat it. Mine's going straight in the trash.]
Madison: [Agreed!! Can't even spring for a decent gift but brags about "amazing benefits." Works us into the ground every single day. She's literally a corporate vampire. Hope she keels over at her desk lmaooo]
Likes and "+1"s rack up on every message, along with a string of nasty memes. And Madison, the same one who was calling me the best boss ever two minutes ago, posts a candid she took of me, slaps a pig snout on my face, and captions it "modern-day Scrooge."
I stand there, staring at the screen as the messages keep coming. All I feel is this hollow, almost absurd disbelief.
Cheap? Corporate vampire?
I almost laugh, though none of this is funny. There's a heaviness in my chest, but I can't even bring myself to get angry.
Last quarter, to celebrate a successful launch, I paid every single one of them a three-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own account. A new phone on top of that. The company didn't cover a cent of it. I pushed back against senior leadership to get this team the highest overtime pay in the entire company.
And Madison, the loudest voice in that chat, came in not knowing a thing. Couldn't even put together a decent slide deck. I trained her from scratch, took the heat from a client complaint that should've been on her, and gave her the highest rating at her review to make sure she kept her job.
Turns out the "family" culture I'd worked so hard to build, everything I'd poured into these people, was nothing but a joke. My joke.
No good deed goes unpunished. Guess that one's universal.
Another message from Madison: [heard raises are coming this quarter. you think Sloane's gonna lowball us again?]
Greg: [she better not. if she tries anything we go straight to the labor board. blast her all over the internet. destroy her reputation.]
Donna: [YES. and the 360 reviews are coming up. we tank her scores. get her fired.]
I read through all of it. Something in me goes very, very still.
Something deep inside me shatters, and what's left is cold. Completely clear.
I open the HR system and pull up the raise request I stayed up finishing last night, the one I submitted to the CEO just this morning. I hit withdraw.
When you give people everything without limits, all they do is want more.
They want to call me cheap? Call me an exploiter? Alright. I'll give them exactly what they asked for.
A prompt appears on screen: "Confirm withdrawal? This action cannot be undone."
I click confirm without a second thought.
Not enough? Then from here on out, you get nothing extra.
I shut off the projector, take a slow breath, walk to the conference room door, and call out across the open floor. "Greg. Madison. Can you guys come in here for a sec?"
