Chapter 2

Victoria's POV

I don't look up, keep reading. "Get to the point."

"So, Ms. Grant." She leans in closer, her tone mixing flattery with entitlement. "Everyone's been bitching in private about how this overtime thing is stressing them out over the holiday."

"A few of us talked it over. Since you've got this budget anyway, why not just take all that triple pay and bonus money and split it evenly? Make it a Thanksgiving bonus for everyone."

I look up at her like she's lost her mind.

She doesn't want fairness. She doesn't give a damn about fighting hustle culture.

She wants to take the money other people are breaking their backs for and pocket it without lifting a finger.

"Madison," I lean back in my chair, my voice ice cold, "you're trying to rob me blind here?"

"Ms. Grant, come on. We're thinking about team morale here! Everyone gets a cut, morale goes up, everyone wins!" She's still trying to sell it.

"Get out." I point at the door.

"Ms. Grant..."

"I said get out!"

Madison shoots me a look, then turns and slams the door.

Through the blinds, I watch her stomp back to her desk, grab her phone, and start typing away. That smirk on her face says everything.

Eight p.m. I'm still at the office, double-checking project data.

My phone starts buzzing like crazy.

It's Ethan, my assistant.

"Ms. Grant! We've got a problem! You need to see Twitter, now!" Panic edges his voice.

I open my laptop.

Twitter's trending list, number fifteen. There it is:

#StarPointMediaBloodMoney

#CEOForcesEmployeesToWorkThanksgiving

I click through. It's a two-thousand-word post from a brand-new anonymous account.

The whole thing reeks of manipulation:

"Our so-called 'people-first' media company just showed its true colors right before Thanksgiving."

"The CEO's dangling 'triple pay' and a 'five-thousand-dollar bonus' like bait, forcing every single employee to sacrifice their holiday and work themselves to death!"

"Anyone who doesn't show up gets labeled 'not a team player' and can expect retaliation after the break. Demotions. Layoffs."

"We're human beings, not machines! When does this sacrifice-your-health-for-money bullshit finally stop?!"

Below the post sits a heavily pixelated screenshot of our internal Slack.

The pixels don't hide it from me. That's our company channel.

The comments have gone nuclear.

"WTF kind of company is this? Forcing people to work nine days over Thanksgiving?"

"CEOs like this deserve to get canceled! Using money to pressure people into burning themselves out, disgusting!"

"Boycott StarPoint Media! Boycott everything they touch!"

"Someone doxx this CEO. Let her see how it feels!"

I stare at the post.

I don't need to guess. I know exactly who did this.

Madison.

That whole "sacrifice your health for a paycheck" line is word-for-word from the meeting.

I pull up our company Slack.

The main channel's on fire.

Madison posts a sighing emoji. "Ugh, social media is so scary these days. Everything goes viral. Ms. Grant must be freaking out right now."

Then something I didn't see coming happens.

Jessica. The single mom who shot her hand up first in the meeting, eyes shining, saying she needed that overtime to pay her mortgage.

She actually replies to Madison.

"Yeah, honestly Madison's got a point. Health comes first. This whole thing is stressing everyone out."

Ryan, the guy who's always sucking up to me, jumps in too.

"Ms. Grant went a little overboard this time. Now I'm stuck. Work or don't work, either way my wife's pissed at me."

I watch the messages scroll up my screen. Ice floods my veins.

Jessica. Last year when her son was in the hospital and she couldn't afford surgery, I loaned her twenty thousand dollars out of my own pocket. She still hasn't paid me back.

Ryan. His resume was so thin no other company would even interview him. I hired him anyway because he seemed solid. Taught him everything he knows about planning.

Now they're sitting there, enjoying the best benefits package in the industry.

And they're stabbing me in the back in the group chat, throwing dirt on my name so Madison's little club doesn't freeze them out.

Worse, in the comments under that anonymous post, I recognize a few IP addresses.

"I work there. Can confirm everything OP said is true. That CEO's a total control freak!"

"Yep! She keeps a blacklist of everyone who doesn't do overtime!"