After the team-building trip is over, I get complimented by my boss and colleague for organizing it because it's been a fun experience for everyone, not to mention the money they've paid is worth the experience.

But the next day, I get publicly shamed by Marilyn Ross, a finance executive, in the company's group chat.

She has posted a few ambiguous transaction screenshots and accused me of receiving 50 thousand dollars' worth of under-the-table commissions from the farm.

All of my colleagues instantly take Marilyn's side. They begin berating me for acting all pretentious when in reality, I'm despicable enough to do all those underhanded things behind their backs.

But that's when my boss, Ethan Keller, leaves a question mark in the group chat.

The smug Marilyn begins coercing me into writing a resignation report and returning the money.

But what she doesn't know is that the farm is Ethan's private business. How on earth can I receive such commissions, in the first place?

My phone wouldn't stop vibrating.

I picked it up to find that the company chat had completely blown up.

Marilyn Ross from the finance team had tagged me, followed by a string of exclamation marks.

"Sheryl Gibson, this is unbelievable. Here we were treating you like a hero, and you were treating us like cash cows?"

Then, she dropped three screenshots into the chat.

They showed a conversation between me and someone claiming to be the farm manager.

The farm manager wrote, "Ms. Gibson, we padded the headcount by 50 people this time. I just transferred your cut of 50 thousand dollars to your account."

The avatar in the chat was undeniably mine.

The group chat went dead silent for about three seconds before exploding like boiling oil hitting water.

Ben Fraser from sales was the first to chime in.

"And here I was buying you drinks last night, thanking you for your hard work. Turns out, you were just working hard at counting your cash. 50 thousand dollars, Sheryl? What's your annual salary again? Talk about a massive payday."

Marilyn followed up with a voice note. Her tone dripped with venom. "No wonder this team-building trip seemed so cheap. She was in cahoots with the venue the whole time.

"Keeping someone like this around is a disgrace to the admin department and a liability to finance. Sheryl, do us a favor and pack your bags. Return the money, or I'm calling the cops."

I sat at my desk, staring at the screenshots.

The transfer receipts were blurry, and even the dates looked double-exposed.

It was a laughably bad Photoshop job, yet the entire office bought it.

I tapped on the images, zooming in on this supposed farm manager.

The avatar was a pig, and the username was just "Bob".

I let out a bitter laugh.

The person I'd coordinated with was the farm owner's son, Julio Keller. And his profile picture was a shot of him racing cars.

The insults in the chat were getting uglier by the second.

Some said I always acted so clean and proper, but was rotten to the core. Others claimed that they finally knew how I afforded my designer bags.

Then, our CEO, Ethan Keller, dropped a single question mark into the chat.

The moment that question mark appeared, the chat fell dead silent.

Marilyn immediately replied beneath it, "Mr. Keller, the evidence is undeniable. Sheryl didn't just take kickbacks. She falsified the headcount. This is a total betrayal of the company."

I gripped my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen for a long time.

I didn't explain myself, nor did I defend my honor.

Instead, I quietly took screenshots of every single message and saved them.

Noticing my silence, Marilyn grew even bolder in the chat. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Playing dead isn't going to save you now. Sheryl, you have half an hour to get your resignation letter down to Mr. Keller's office. Otherwise, we'll see you in court."

I sneered and set my phone down.

I stood and walked over to the pantry to brew myself a cup of coffee.

Passing the finance department, I caught sight of Marilyn holding court with a few other colleagues.

She was laughing up a storm, gesturing wildly as she spoke.

Ben chimed in right on cue, "Good catch, Marilyn. Thieves like her deserve to be publicly humiliated."

Holding my cup of coffee, I walked past them with steady strides.

When Marilyn spotted me, she purposely raised her voice. "Oh, look, if it isn't our embezzling manager. Haven't you started writing your confession yet?"

I stopped in my tracks and looked at Marilyn. "Marilyn, whether that evidence is real or fake, you know the truth better than anyone."

Marilyn's expression flickered for a second before she thrust her chin out defiantly. "The screenshots are right there in the group chat for everyone to see. You seriously think you can talk your way out of this?"

I didn't utter a single word. I just stood there, watching her in dead silence.

Unnerved by my gaze, she took a defensive step back. "What are you staring at? Stare all you want. You're still getting sacked!"

My mind flashed back to when we were planning the team-building trip.

Marilyn had approached me in private.

She slid a business card across my desk, claiming it belonged to an agricultural supply company run by her cousin.

"Sheryl, let's source the catering ingredients from my cousin this time. The pricing is highly negotiable."

She flashed three fingers, waving them in front of my face. "We'll get this much back in kickbacks, and we can split it 50-50."

I turned her down on the spot.

I told her that our company policy was strict, and all suppliers had to go through a rigorous vetting process.

Marilyn's face turned sour instantly. "Sheryl, don't be ungrateful. We're all just trying to make a living here. Cut the high-and-mighty act."

I ignored her and chose the farm Ethan had recommended.

Throughout the entire trip, Marilyn wouldn't let it rest.

During lunch, she slammed a platter of chicken onto the table. "This chicken is as dry as cardboard. Sheryl, did you take a bribe to feed us this garbage?"

Ethan, who was in the middle of picking up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, froze at those words.

I didn't panic. I simply called Julio over.

He walked out in his chef's whites, holding the health inspection certificates and invoices.

"Ma'am, these are free-range chickens raised on the hills. If you find the meat too tough, perhaps the issue lies with your teeth."

Julio was a straight shooter. His bluntness turned Marilyn's face red.

Ethan took a bite, nodded, and remarked that the flavor was perfect.

That was the first time Marilyn had been humiliated so thoroughly in public.

Later, in the restroom, she cornered me. "Sheryl, you think cozying up to some farm manager guarantees your spot as administrative manager? Let me tell you something. The finance department has 100 different ways to ruin you.

"Just you wait. If I don't get you kicked out of this company, I'll change my name."

At the time, I brushed it off as the barking of a mad dog.

I never expected her to actually have the nerve to forge evidence.

Marilyn dropped another screenshot into the chat. It was a bank statement showing a 50-thousand-dollar deposit.

"Look at this, everyone. Case closed. The funds hit her account the exact day after the team-building trip ended."

Marilyn had really gone all out to frame me. She had even enlisted Ben to play along.

Ben yelled in the chat, "I just passed the admin department and saw Sheryl destroying the contracts! Go look, everyone! She's panicking!"

In reality, I was just sitting at my desk, reviewing the original contract.

This document bore Ethan's personal signature, and stamped on the cover was the farm's official seal.

It was Ethan's private corporate seal.

Marilyn had been in finance for three years, yet she didn't even know her own boss' private holdings.

Then again, Ethan was a private man. The farm was a side business registered under his son's name.

It was typically reserved for entertaining VIP clients or hosting company team-building trips.

An opportunist like Marilyn naturally had no access to the inner circle's secrets.

She was still barking in the group chat. "Sheryl, if you're going to keep hiding like a coward, I'm sending this evidence straight to HQ. You won't just be fired. You'll be looking at jail time!"

I picked up my phone and dialed Julio's number. "Julio, help me back up the last team-building's surveillance video and your original records."

Julio's voice boomed through the receiver. "What happened? Is that mad woman causing trouble again?"

I replied, "She said I took a kickback, and she's parading it across the entire company."

Julio let out a sneer. "Asking for a kickback from my dad's farm? Has she completely lost her mind? Alright, I'll send you the footage right now. I've also got an audio recording of her trying to shake me down for a kickback that day."

I froze. "She asked you for a kickback?"

"Yeah. Right before the team-building ended, she cornered me in the back courtyard. She said if I didn't give her 20 thousand dollars, she'd drag her feet on settling the final balance."

…

Marilyn wasn't stopping. Next, she uploaded an audio clip into the group chat.

My voice came through loud and clear. "Keep this money. Don't let anyone else know. Thanks for the hard work, everyone."

Then came a man's voice. "Thank you, Ms. Gibson. I'm looking forward to working together again."

The chat exploded into complete chaos once more.

"Holy crap! She's caught on tape!"

"Sheryl is really disgusting. Acting all innocent and sweet, but she's incredibly greedy behind closed doors."

Ben was overjoyed. "People like this have to be fired! And we need to get that money back. That belongs to everyone!"

Listening to the clip, I just found it absurd.

That conversation happened on the final night of the trip, when I was handing out overtime bonuses to the farm's three helpers.

Ethan had been in high spirits that evening, so the party went well into the night.

He had pulled me aside and specifically told me to slip the staff some extra cash as a personal token of appreciation.

I did tell them not to let anyone else know, but only because I didn't want the rest of the staff to see it and feel slighted.

I never could have guessed that Marilyn would secretly record that moment, let alone twist it so maliciously out of context.

Gripping my phone, I typed my very first response in the group chat. "Marilyn, you claim the farm owner gave you this evidence. What's his last name again?"

Marilyn shot back within seconds. "Stark! Mr. Stark told me himself. Are you still trying to argue?"

I nearly laughed out loud.

Marilyn sent another message. "Mr. Stark is an old acquaintance of mine. He can't stand greedy people like you. He's already printed out all the bank transfer records. He'll be delivering them to the office shortly."

I replied, "Perfect. Why don't we all head down to the farm and clear this up face-to-face?"

Marilyn shot back with a dismissive emoji. "Who do you think you are? Mr. Stark doesn't have time to waste on you. Sheryl, if you return the cash and confess right now, maybe Mr. Keller will cut you some slack since you're a veteran employee."

The rest of the staff began jumping on the bandwagon.

"Just admit it, Sheryl. The evidence is ironclad."

"Exactly. Pay it back and pack your bags. Stop dragging the company's reputation through the mud."

I watched the once-familiar names on the screen, each one turning more detestable.

I had lost count of how many times I'd helped them out with their tedious chores.

Whenever Ben's reimbursement receipts were missing details, I was the one who fixed the paperwork for him.

When Lexi Clarke had family emergencies and couldn't get leave approved, I was the one who covered her shifts.

Now, just to suck up to Marilyn, they couldn't wait to step on my neck.

I tucked my phone away and glanced out the window.

The door to Ethan's office swung open.

His secretary walked out, her expression incredibly grim. "Sheryl, Mr. Keller wants to see you in his office."

As I walked through the open-plan office, Marilyn deliberately stuck her foot out to trip me.

I sidestepped her smoothly, throwing a cold glare her way.

She lifted her chin in defiance. "In you go. Better start rehearsing your farewell speech."

Ben chimed in from the sidelines, "Don't forget to take some tissues, Ms. Gibson. You'll need them to wipe away the tears in a minute."

I pushed open the door to Ethan's office.

Ethan was seated in his high-backed executive chair, his expression dark.

Laid out across his desk were a few printed screenshots—the exact ones Marilyn had leaked.

"Sheryl, explain this."

Ethan's voice was completely flat.

I stood straight, meeting his gaze with absolute calm.