Giselle Shaw, the intern, has sent a five-dollar bonus to the company's group chat that has 500 members in it. I get crowned as the luckiest person for being able to claim 20 cents from the bonus.

So, Giselle tags me in the group chat immediately.

"Hey Rebecca! Since you're the luckiest person in the group chat, why don't you send a bonus here? There are 500 people in this group chat altogether, so you can just send 5,000 dollars here.

"5,000 dollars isn't much for you, right? It so happens to be the bonus you've received from Mr. Gallagher because of the project you've secured. You can send us the bonus so that we can get some good luck from you!"

The moment I refuse, Giselle begins playing the pity card in the group chat by claiming that she can't reap good luck for everyone in the company.

My boyfriend, Vincent Gallagher, rushes into my office and starts berating me angrily.

"Rebecca Campbell, just how stingy are you to not want to send a five-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat despite being a higher-up in this company? You even made a young woman cry! Is this how you do things?

"You'd better send a 50-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat right now and write a five-thousand-word apology letter by hand! I want you to sincerely apologize to Giselle as well! Otherwise, I'll break up with you! You can forget about retaining your position in this company, too!"

Since I didn't respond, Vincent Gallagher grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the wall. "Are you ignoring me, Rebecca? I told you to send that gift in the group chat and apologize to Giselle publicly!"

My stomach was already aching from last night's overindulgence at dinner, and Vincent's grip only made the pain sharper.

I had no strength left to argue. I picked up my phone and sent a 50-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat.

Vincent finally released me, but his tone remained cold. "Don't think this is enough to get away with it. Start writing your apology now, and read it aloud to Giselle at tomorrow's morning meeting."

With that, he strode out of the office without a glance at me curled on the floor, clutching my stomach. After vomiting violently, I dialed the phone of Vincent's rival company. "I've secured that project you've been competing with Gallagher Group for."

A teasing female voice answered. "Rebecca, are you calling to show off on behalf of your boyfriend Vincent?"

I smiled faintly. "Boyfriend? That's over. I'm leaving Gallagher Group. They've hired me as assistant director, and I'm taking this project—and all Gallagher Group's investments with it."

By the time I left the office, it was afternoon. I headed straight to the general hospital. Vincent was still green, inexperienced in the ways of the world. Over the years, I had drunk so much to secure investments for his company that I ended up giving myself a stomach ulcer.

The doctor had warned me countless times to stop overdrinking, but I had ignored it all for Vincent's future. Now, I no longer have to sacrifice myself for Vincent's company. It was finally time to go to the hospital and get proper treatment.

When I picked up my endoscopy report and approached Dr. Gregory White's office, I overheard Giselle Shaw and Vincent inside. "It's just indigestion. You don't have to come to the hospital. Vince, you worry too much," Giselle said lightly.

Vincent said, "If this turns into a serious stomach problem, it'll be too late. The pain can be unbearable, and I won't let you suffer. I know how much you hate being in pain, Giselle."

When he heard footsteps, Vincent turned, and his frown deepened when he saw me. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay in the office and write your apology?"

I ignored him and handed my report to Dr. White.

Dr. White's expression darkened as he read it. "Your stomach is in serious condition. If this ulcer is left unchecked, it can cause bleeding and even progress to cancer. How many times have I warned you to stop drinking? You're so young. Why risk your health like this? Do you want to end up with cancer?"

I gave a small nod. "I understand now, Dr. White. My health is the most important thing. I'll quit drinking from today onward."

Hearing that, Vincent's face instantly turned ashen.

He scowled and snapped, "Rebecca, you're quitting drinking? What about the company dinners? Who's going to entertain the investors? Can't your stomach wait two more years for treatment? Do you even realize how important the investment conference in two days is for the company? How can you let a minor health issue interfere with work? This is completely selfish."

I met Dr. White's surprised gaze and snorted silently in my mind.

Giselle's slight indigestion made him panic, yet my stomach ulcer—even cancer—was apparently just a minor inconvenience in his eyes.

I said, "What, the company can't run without me? Isn't Giselle here? You're always praising her work—let her handle the executives. I'm leaving, Vincent. Once I've handed over my responsibilities, I won't have anything to do with the company anymore."

Vincent's frown deepened. "You're not exactly young, Rebecca. Giselle is still inexperienced—how could I let her handle those dinners? Stop joking. At your age, do you really think any company would hire you once you leave?"

"Not exactly young," I repeated the words in my mind.

I was 35, and for eight years, I had worked for Vincent, witnessing him create an empire from nothing. In any other company, I would have been recognized as a founding member, treated with the respect and benefits that title deserved.

With Vincent, I had only the title, none of the perks. I ran the company's day-to-day operations yet earned a mere ten thousand dollars a month. Even a new intern could now easily walk over me.

For eight long years, my love for Vincent had made me turn down every opportunity elsewhere. It was my endless compromises that convinced Vincent he couldn't do without me.

As I met his expectant, demanding gaze, my resolve solidified. I had endured enough of this life.

After leaving the hospital and returning to the office, I immediately drafted my resignation. On the way back, Leona Clarke had told me that my independent office was ready, and I could start anytime.

Just as I was about to submit my resignation to HR and settle my final paycheck, Giselle suddenly called a company-wide meeting. "First, I want to thank Rebecca," she began. "Everyone should have received the 50-thousand-dollar bonus in the group chat yesterday, right?"

Just as I was reeling, unsure what Giselle was up to, she went on, "Here's another piece of good news. Rebecca is leaving. After discussing with Vince, we've decided that Rebecca's unpaid salary will be distributed to everyone as a bonus."

Anger shot through me. I snapped to my feet. "Are you out of your mind, Giselle? What gives you the right to turn my salary into a bonus for others?"

Giselle shrank back at my words, and her eyes brimmed with tears. "Rebecca, I assumed that after so many years as an executive, you'd feel a connection to everyone here. I only wanted to make your farewell a happy moment for the team, so I arranged one final bonus. I never imagined you'd refuse. Don't you see us as family?"

When the other employees heard that, they all looked at me with disapproval.

"Rebecca, Giselle was only trying to do what's best for everyone. Why are you being so harsh with her?"

"Yeah, Rebecca, we've all worked under you for so many years. Now that you're leaving, isn't it normal to give us a little benefit?"

I took a deep breath.

Just as I was about to respond, Vincent arrived, shielding Giselle, whose eyes were red from crying.

"Rebecca, you're picking on Giselle again! She only cares about the company, and you have to go out of your way to upset her. How can you be so vile? If it happens one more time, you're out of this company for good. Don't imagine your executive position gives you immunity. Gallagher Group won't tolerate someone this rotten, at any level."

Vincent's unquestioning defense of Giselle pushed me over the edge. I threw my resignation report at him. "Fool! I'm done listening to you. I quit!"

With Vincent's furious glare behind me, I walked out without a word. After leaving the company, I headed straight to Clarke Group, Leona's company, to finalize my employment.

Leona valued my skills and immediately offered me a base salary of 100 thousand dollars with no cap, plus she arranged for the company's legal team to help me recover the wages Giselle had withheld.

While I was communicating with project investors, I received a message from Giselle.

"Rebecca, I was wrong earlier. I shouldn't have taken the liberty to turn your salary into a bonus. Mr. Gallagher and I will come to settle your remaining wages and apologize in person."

Since Giselle had agreed to return my salary, involving Clarke Group's legal team was unnecessary. I breathed a sigh of relief and sent her my location.

When I got into Vincent's Rolls-Royce, Giselle was lounging casually in the passenger seat, sticking cartoon stickers onto the interior. "Rebecca, wait a second. I'm decorating the car for Mr. Gallagher—he gave me the important job of making it look cute!"

I recalled how I once tried to add a cartoon sticker to Vincent's car and was immediately rebuked. "I don't like childish things. Don't ever put something like that in my car."

It wasn't childish things he disliked—it was me.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the seat, ignoring Giselle's playful antics with Vincent in the passenger seat.

Soon, the Rolls-Royce came to a stop. I opened my eyes, only to find that we weren't at the Gallagher Group headquarters but in front of a hotel.

A sense of dread immediately rose in my chest. I refused to get out. "I thought we were just settling my salary. Why are we here?"

Vincent grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the car. "Rebecca, Mr. Plimpton specifically requested you to entertain him. If you handle him properly tonight, I can overlook your past mistakes and let you return to Gallagher Group as an executive."

Vincent's words sent a chill straight through me. Justin Plimpton was a name I knew all too well.

At every dinner, he had tried to grope me, and each time I asked Vincent for help, he dismissed me with impatience. "You're 35 and hardly special. Why would a prominent investor like Mr. Plimpton even notice you? You're imagining things."

I struggled violently and slapped Vincent across the face. "Are you insane, Vincent? I've already joined another company! I don't care about going back as an executive. I'm not entertaining Mr. Plimpton. Let go of me!"

Vincent's jaw clenched, and his eyes turned cold.

"Stop this, Rebecca. You're 35. No other company will hire you. Just do as I say, entertain Mr. Plimpton properly, and I'll give you a raise when you return."

I kept struggling, hurling curses as I went. Vincent lost all patience, grabbed my hair, and dragged me into the private room.