At the company holiday gala raffle, I hit the jackpot. I won an Hermes Kelly bag with a market value of forty thousand dollars. I rushed to a luxury appraiser the next morning, ecstatic about cashing it in, only to be told it was a counterfeit. A total fake. When we got back from the holidays, I tried to report it to the Vice President, Ms. Vance. But the Head of HR, Brenda, intercepted me. "Don't bother Ms. Vance with this petty nonsense," Brenda snapped. "Bring the bag to me. I'll handle the quality complaint and get back to you." Instead, that very afternoon, I received a termination notice. Worse, the company filed a lawsuit against me. Brenda’s mask had slipped completely. "The box was unsealed. You expect us to just take your word for it?" she sneered. "You obviously sold the authentic bag and swapped it for a cheap fake to extort the company!" I was drowned in legal fees and debt. Under that crushing weight and relentless pressure, I jumped from the top of my apartment building. When I opened my eyes again, the roar of the gala filled my ears. I was back. Brenda stood before me, a subtle, scheming glint in her eyes, handing me the sealed signature orange box. Instead of keeping it, I turned and handed the box directly to Ms. Vance in front of everyone. "Thank you for everything the company has done for me! But honestly, a gift this expensive really belongs with you, Ms. Vance. Please, I insist you accept it!" 1 Ms. Vance looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh, Sarah... that is incredibly generous. I couldn't possibly..." Despite her words, her hand was already reaching out to take it. This was exactly why I chose her. Ms. Vance was obsessed with designer luxury. In my past life, I knew she had been desperately trying to source a Kelly bag. What would happen if the fake bag ended up in her hands? Would a wealthy, powerful executive with a notoriously short temper be better equipped than a powerless employee to dig into who swapped the real product for a counterfeit? "Wait!" Brenda hurried over, a flash of panic in her eyes. "Sarah, company policy clearly states that all raffle prizes are registered to the individual winner. They cannot be transferred or gifted." "HR has to log the winning information into the system right now. If you just give it away, the entire compliance process will be a mess." Ms. Vance’s hand froze halfway to the box, the smile on her face dimming slightly. I sneered internally, but kept my face a mask of pure confusion. "But it hasn’t been registered yet, right?" "Brenda, can't you just register it in Ms. Vance's name directly? The raffle ticket didn't have a name on it; it was just based on who was holding the winning number." Brenda’s expression twitched. She clearly hadn't expected me to push back so directly. She shot a quick look at Ms. Vance, realizing that the VP was staring right back at her, her annoyance visible. Brenda raised her voice, growing frantic. "Company perks are for the employees. Using a prize to kiss up to your boss is a terrible look. What are the other employees going to think?" She was laying it on thick, deliberately trying to shame me. People at the surrounding tables perked up, turning their attention toward us. Since Brenda had made it a public issue of optics, Ms. Vance felt forced to save face. She retracted her hand, her tone turning cool. "It's the thought that counts, Sarah. But we do need to follow company policy. Brenda is right. You should keep the prize yourself." She didn't glance at the orange box again. My heart sank. I had no choice but to awkwardly pull the box back, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, Ms. Vance. I wasn't thinking. Please don't take offense." Brenda breathed a visible sigh of relief and patted my shoulder. "Sarah, remember to come over to the administrative table to register in a few minutes. Don't hold up the line." My mind was racing. I left the box at my seat and hurried to the restroom. Thankfully, the banquet hall was covered in security cameras. As long as I didn't leave the building with the bag, no one could accuse me of swapping it. But as soon as I sat down in a stall, the sound of Brenda’s voice drifted in, getting closer. 2 "...I know! I’ll get the money together soon! Isn't the gap only forty thousand dollars? ... Let them harass me! What if they call my house? Just hang up!" "Discovered? How the hell would I be discovered?! As long as that idiot takes the bag out of the building today, she can scream until she’s blue in the face, and everyone will think she just kept the forty grand for herself! Who is going to believe her?" "Ms. Vance really wanted that bag today... In a few days, I’ll suggest a policy change to management. I'll pitch a rule that the company can recall any physical prize valued over ten grand for a cash payout. When that happens, I'll force Sarah to pay back the forty grand difference! I get the cash to pay off my debt, and I can buy another fake to gift to Ms. Vance to get in her good graces. Two birds, one stone!" "If she can't cough up the money, the company will just sue her for embezzlement of corporate assets!" The person on the other end of the line seemed to argue back, and Brenda roared impatiently. "Enough! I took a massive risk to cover my own ass! Do you think I want those predatory online lenders threatening my life every day?! As long as we get through today, I'm in the clear!" The call ended abruptly. The sharp click of her high heels echoed as she quickly left the restroom. "Where did that idiot Sarah go? Why hasn't she registered yet..." I sat in the stall, my entire body icy cold. So that was it. It wasn't a simple product swap. Brenda owed a massive amount to illegal payday loan sharks. She had replaced the real bag with a high-end replica, and sold the authentic one for forty thousand dollars to pay her debt. And I was her designated fall guy. As long as I left the gala with this prize, I could never wash off the stain. Even if I didn't cause a scene tomorrow, she had plenty of ways to force me to cough up that forty thousand! This bag could absolutely not stay in my hands. The gala had about two hours left. Before it ended, I had to get this fake bag to someone else! 3 The moment I sat back down at my table, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. Brenda was spamming the company group chat. "Attention everyone: All raffle prizes must be registered before you leave the venue." "Employees who have not registered their prizes cannot leave yet. Please cooperate." "There is currently only one employee left who hasn't registered. Please come to the admin desk immediately so we can wrap this up." Coworkers who were already packing up their things turned to look at me. "Sarah, are you the only one left? Haven't you registered yet?" "Hurry up and do it, we're all waiting so we can go home!" Before I could dodge them, a few coworkers practically dragged me over to Brenda's table. Brenda sat behind the registration sheet, her chin tilted up, looking at me with absolute smugness. I stood perfectly still. Chloe, a notoriously obnoxious coworker standing nearby, raised her voice. "Wow, win the grand prize and suddenly you think you're royalty, huh?" "Some people get handed a fortune and just want to act high and mighty. If you don't want it, just give it to me! I certainly won't complain!" She was part of Brenda's clique and constantly picked on me. When I won the Hermes bag, her eyes had practically turned green with envy. She was genuinely bitter. A few coworkers snickered, clearly enjoying the drama. Acting as if her words had completely enraged me, I shoved the heavy orange box directly into Chloe's chest. "Fine! Take it! You act like I actually care about this thing!" Caught completely off guard, Chloe grabbed the box. A second later, sheer ecstasy washed over her face. She hugged the box tight, terrified I would take it back. She whipped around and yelled at Brenda, "Brenda! Quick, put my name down! Sarah gave it to me voluntarily! Hahahaha, some people just can't handle wealth!" But the blood drained from Brenda's face. Her voice came out sharp and panicked: "No!" Chloe was stunned by the outburst, her smile freezing. "...Why not?" I put on a mask of pure innocence. "Yeah, Brenda, why not? I gave it to Chloe voluntarily. Plus, you two are super close, right? Can't you just bend the rules for her?" Brenda glared at me with pure venom, suffocating on her own panic before finally forcing the words out. "No means no! I have to follow corporate compliance! It has to be registered under Sarah's name!" Chloe looked like someone had just snatched a winning lottery ticket out of her hands. Her face contorted in anger, and she pointed a finger right at Brenda, raising her voice. "Are you fucking kidding me, Brenda?! You're the one who writes the 'compliance' rules whenever you want to kiss up to management! Don't pull this bureaucratic bullshit on me! I'm keeping this bag today, period!" 4 Chloe's voice was shrill and piercing, drawing the attention of dozens of people who hadn't left yet. Brenda was furious and terrified. Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, she grabbed Chloe's arm and hissed, "Come with me! I'll explain it to you!" Brenda half-dragged a resistant Chloe into a quiet corner. The two put their heads together. As Brenda whispered frantically, Chloe's expression morphed from anger to shock, and she kept shooting suspicious glances in my direction. Just then, a group of executives walked over, likely drawn by Chloe's screaming. Leading them was Ms. Mercer, the fierce head of Marketing, who had a long-standing, bitter rivalry with Ms. Vance. She glanced at the orange box still clutched in Chloe's arms and let out a sharp laugh. "Well, well. That box looks familiar. Don't tell me that's the Hermes bag?" "Ms. Vance, isn't that the exact Kelly bag you've been dying to get your hands on? I saw your Instagram post yesterday complaining about how you were calling every sales rep in the city trying to track one down." Ms. Vance's face instantly darkened. She didn't reply. Ms. Mercer wasn't about to let the opportunity slip. She looked Ms. Vance up and down, feigning realization. "I was wondering why you kept staring over here earlier. It must be agonizing. Seeing an employee win the exact bag you want, and all you can do is stand there and watch. That must really sting, huh?" "Watch your mouth, Mercer!" Ms. Vance finally snapped, her tone rigid. Ms. Mercer turned her attention to me. "Sarah, weren't you just trying to give this bag to Ms. Vance a minute ago?" Every eye in the vicinity locked onto me. I immediately lowered my head, playing the part of a terrified, intimidated subordinate. "I... I did want to give it to Ms. Vance. But Brenda told me company policy explicitly forbids transferring prizes... so I couldn't do it." "Oh!" Ms. Mercer dragged out the syllable, her expression dripping with exaggerated mock-sympathy. "So it was 'company policy' that stopped it! I see. But you know..." Her tone sharpened, turning incredibly condescending. "Since when does HR dictate the rules at our corporate gala? Ms. Vance, you're a Vice President. You want a gift that an employee voluntarily offered you, and you have to ask an HR admin for permission? You play it a little too by the book, don't you think? Taking orders from the clerical staff?" 5 Every word was laced with venom, stabbing directly at Ms. Vance's pride. Her face flushed a furious, mottled red. Ms. Mercer was pretending to praise her for following the rules, but was actually mocking her for being a coward—for lacking the authority to claim a simple handbag, making her look weaker than an HR admin. Ms. Vance's chest heaved. She shot a lethal glare toward the corner where Brenda was still frantically whispering to Chloe, completely oblivious to the executive showdown. Ms. Vance suddenly reached out her hand. "Sarah! I'm taking the bag. Consider it a direct sale. The market value is forty thousand dollars. I'm transferring the money to you right now!" The entire hall fell dead silent. Acting as if I was flustered and overwhelmed, I practically fumbled to pull the striking orange bag out of its box. Ms. Vance snatched it from my hands. Without even looking at it closely, she pulled out her phone. "Account number!" I rattled off my banking details. Seconds later, my phone vibrated. A deposit alert: $40,000. Clutching the bag, Ms. Vance shot one final, icy glare at Ms. Mercer, pivoted on her heels, and stormed out of the banquet hall. Ms. Mercer let out a triumphant scoff and walked away with her entourage. I quickly moved back to the admin table. The last line of the registration sheet was still blank. I picked up a pen, neatly wrote "Hermes Kelly Bag (Market Value: $40,000)" in the prize column, signed my name, and then added a very specific note in the margins: Cashed out on-site. Sold directly to Ms. Vance. Transaction complete. Just as I closed the empty box, Brenda and Chloe finally finished their hushed conversation and walked back over. Chloe's expression had softened considerably, though the way she looked at me still held a trace of malicious glee. "Sarah, are you still giving me that bag? Because let me tell you, I already called a friend who runs a luxury consignment shop. I was banking on that cash for my holiday trip to Europe!" Brenda stepped up, having hastily reconstructed her cold, professional mask. "If you're going to swap, do it now. I'm only making an exception this one time. Once it's done, there are no take-backs." The two of them were playing off each other perfectly. They had clearly reached some sort of dark agreement. I lowered my head, rubbed my hands together, and put on a guilty, hesitant face. "About the bag... I'm not giving it away anymore." "What?" I stiffened my neck, acting like someone who was just being stubborn. "I said I'm not giving it away! I already signed the registration sheet myself. I'm just going to keep it!" Chloe glared at Brenda, looking furious. "Damn it! You snooze, you lose. I shouldn't have listened to your stupid gossip earlier!" Brenda looked like she wanted to burst out laughing, but fought desperately to keep a straight face. "Why didn't you just do that in the first place? You wasted everyone's time!" 6 I clutched the empty box to my chest like I was guarding a treasure and turned to leave. But Brenda stepped in front of me again. "Not so fast, Sarah. Since you registered it, protocol requires a photograph of the actual prize for our archives. Open the box so I can take a picture." She was being overly cautious. I put on an extremely petty, calculating expression, pulling out my own phone. I pretended to open my camera app, but actually hit 'Record' on my voice memos. "Take pictures... Brenda, can I take some pictures too? I want to get macro shots of the stitching, the hardware, the date stamps... I heard the super-fakes these days are incredibly convincing. If it turns out to be counterfeit, I want to have proof so I can call the police right here in the lobby!" Brenda's face instantly went paper-white. She backpedaled immediately. "Never mind! We don't need to do an unboxing inspection for yours! It was procured by the company, how could it possibly be a fake? Just a picture of the exterior box is fine!" I acted relieved and didn't push the issue any further. Finally, while they were distracted, I made a show of tearing off the pink carbon copy of the registration sheet. "I'll just keep the carbon copy for my records. I'm heading out now." With that, I hugged the empty box and briskly walked out of the banquet hall. Faintly, I could still hear their mocking laughter trailing behind me. "Hahahahaha, that idiot actually thinks she hit the jackpot..." On the first day of the holiday break, I posted a status update on my Instagram. No photo, just text. [Taking my new bag out to see the girls! Finally getting a chance to flex!] I set the privacy so it was only visible to my coworkers. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Brenda updated her own status. She didn't name names, but every word was a poisoned dart. [Just a piece of advice: don't try to flex a counterfeit in high-society circles. You'll just embarrass yourself when someone calls you out. Real is real, fake is fake. Don't wait until you're humiliated to regret it.] She was practically praying I'd realize it was a fake soon, eagerly waiting for me to storm into the office and cause a scene. After posting that, she even made sure to leave a sycophantic comment on Ms. Vance's latest post. To make things even better, Ms. Vance had updated her feed just ten minutes prior. She posted a picture of an exclusive business gala invitation, with the caption: [Decided my new Kelly is going to be the centerpiece for tomorrow night's event.] Brenda, completely oblivious, likely assumed Ms. Vance had gone to an Hermes boutique and bought a real one herself. She commented: [Congratulations on finally getting your dream bag, Ms. Vance! It suits you perfectly!] I locked my phone and let out a long, slow breath. The bait was in the water. Now, I just had to wait to reel the net in.
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