It was time for the company’s end-of-year review. The boss announced that revenue was down. To boost morale, he decided to take my entire annual commission and distribute it to everyone as a holiday bonus. My coworkers were absolutely thrilled. One guy chimed in that since I drove a BMW and didn't have student loans, I should look out for those of them who had families to feed. Another preached that a company only thrives when its employees are happy, telling me to be a team player and show some sacrifice. I just smiled, nodded, and immediately stepped out to call my clients, telling them to freeze all their pending payments. Fast forward to the week before the holidays. The company had zero cash flow. They couldn't even make payroll. Panic set in. And one by one, they all came crawling to me, begging for help. 1 "The economy is tough right now. To make sure everyone has a great Christmas, Riley has generously agreed to donate her entire commission for the year. It will be distributed as your holiday bonuses!" The moment our boss Victor finished his sentence, the conference room erupted into thunderous applause. As the subject of this supposed generosity, I sat there completely stunned. Using my commission as the company bonus pool? This was the first time I was hearing about it. Swallowing the bitter taste of anger in my throat, I spoke up. "Our sales volume increased by fifteen percent compared to last year. Logically, the company is highly profitable. We shouldn't be in a position where we can't afford standard holiday bonuses, right?" Victor’s fake smile instantly vanished. "Do you have any idea how much it costs to keep all of you employed? I match your 401k, I pay for premium health insurance. Have I ever mistreated you?" "What do you know about operating a business? Just because you say we're profitable doesn't make it true! Why don't you sit in this chair and run the company!" Victor was getting more agitated by the second, slamming his hand flat against the mahogany table. Terrified of getting caught in the crossfire, my coworkers kept their heads down, exchanging nervous glances. The room fell dead silent until Victor's assistant finally broke the ice. "Come on, Victor, don't get mad! Riley definitely didn't mean it like that. She’s a veteran here. She would never just sit back and watch us struggle through the holidays." Serena, our Sales Director, had always hated my guts. There was no way she was going to let an opportunity to screw me over slip by. "Riley, whenever you needed help, Victor and I never hesitated! You've always been the most mature one here. The company is facing a rough patch and needs your sacrifice. Don't be ungrateful!" With that, she shot a pointed look at Valerie sitting next to her. Valerie’s eyes darted around before she took the cue. "Look, most of us spend our paychecks covering mortgages, car loans, or kids' tuition. You're different. Your parents bought your condo in cash. Even without this commission, you're going to have a fantastic holiday." "But don't worry, your generosity won't go unnoticed!" She plastered on a sickeningly sweet smile and addressed the room. "Everyone, when you visit your hometowns this break, make sure to bring back some local treats for our girl Riley!" "Oh, absolutely! My whole family will be so grateful to you, Riley. I'll bring you some of my mom's famous homemade maple syrup!" "Riley, I promise to work twice as hard next year! I'm going to toast to your health on New Year's Eve!" "I'm not great with words, but I'll put it out there. From now on, whatever you need, just say the word and I've got your back!" One by one, they chimed in, piling the fake praise higher and higher. Seeing his employees act so obediently, Victor finally cracked a smug smile. "I always knew I wasn't wrong about Riley. When the employees thrive, the company thrives! Come on everyone, let's give it up for Riley's selfless contribution!" The applause grew louder, but my heart turned entirely to ice. As the top sales rep in the company, I was scraping by on a pathetic base salary of three thousand a month. If my family wasn't financially comfortable, and if my parents didn't occasionally help me out, I wouldn't even have enough cash to cover the fancy dinners required to entertain my clients. It wasn't like I had never complained about this. I had told Victor that the base pay was insulting, expense reimbursements took months to clear, and relying on my own pocket to build client relationships was hurting our business growth. His response back then? An awkward chuckle and a personal Venmo transfer of five grand, framed as a "personal loan" to tide me over. He had heavily implied that I needed to understand the company's struggles and tough it out. He even promised that when my year-end commission was calculated, he would throw in interest for the hassle. Like a fool, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and worked like a dog. I had been counting down the days until the end of the year. The moment December hit, I sat down with our new accountant to run the numbers. When I saw my accumulated commission was sitting at a cool hundred grand, I was ecstatic. I had it all planned out. I was going to pay my parents back and use the rest to take them on a luxury vacation to the Bahamas. And now? Without a single word of consultation, he took my hundred thousand dollars and handed it out as charity to buy loyalty. It hit me then. Victor never intended to pay me a dime. If he was going to play dirty, I was going to play ruthless. I held up a hand, stopping a younger colleague named Noah who looked like he was about to speak up in my defense. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Alright. Since everyone feels so strongly about it, let's consider it done." 2 Victor clearly hadn't expected me to cave so easily. A flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes, but he didn't push his luck. With a stiff chuckle, he patted my shoulder and dismissed the meeting. My coworkers filed out, side-stepping me. As they brushed past, the mocking glints in their eyes practically screamed that I was the biggest sucker on the planet. I sat alone in the quiet room, waiting until the last person was gone before returning to my desk. "Alright everyone, our holiday bonuses are secured! To celebrate the good news, afternoon coffee is on me!" Serena clapped her hands, her voice loud enough for the whole floor to hear. Noah, who was on my team, immediately jumped in. "That new place downstairs has a seasonal roast. I've been dying to try it." He glanced over at me. "Riley, what do you want?" Before I could politely decline, Valerie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh please. Riley drives a Beamer. She wouldn't be caught dead drinking drip coffee from downstairs. She only does artisanal lattes. Just order for ourselves." Noah looked deeply uncomfortable. I saved him the trouble. "I've been dealing with insomnia anyway. I'll pass." Grabbing my phone, I walked straight to the rooftop terrace. The biting winter wind cut through my rage, bringing a sharp clarity to my mind. I found a contact and hit dial. "Harper. Put a hold on this year's final payments. There's no rush." After a burst of bright, infectious laughter, Harper started teasing me. "Are you playing hard to get, Riley? Relax. I already approved the paperwork this morning. The funds will drop in two days. I promise you won't be stuck living off a three-grand base salary anymore!" "I'm not joking, Harper. Seriously, hold the payment." Sensing the shift in my tone, Harper's voice instantly dropped the playful edge. "What happened? Who messed with you?" "Let me guess. Victor lost his damn mind and disrespected his top earner?" "...Don't tell me he backed out of paying your commission." I let out a heavy sigh. On the other end of the line, Harper sounded like she had just struck gold. "I told you! I told you to come work for me! If you jump ship and join my team, I'll beat whatever commission rate they gave you by a full percent!" "Don't answer right now. Just think about it. My door is always open." She hung up quickly, almost as if she was afraid I would reject her on the spot. Truth was, I had no intention of rejecting her. If anything, I was incredibly grateful for how she had looked out for me over the years. I wasn't some corporate heiress. I didn't have a CEO father or family connections to pave my way. I wasn't even that great at schmoozing executives over expensive cocktails. But I knew how to be genuine, and people remembered that. When one client's mother was diagnosed with diabetes, I consulted a specialist and personally typed up a custom dietary plan. When another client was too busy to notice her daughter was being relentlessly bullied at school, I was the one who drove down there and raised hell in the principal's office. Every single account I won, I bled for. I earned my title as top seller from the ground up. After hanging up with Harper, I dialed a few more of my key accounts. Thankfully, these were people who actually considered me a friend. They were more than happy to help me serve up a cold dish of revenge. Satisfied, I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed toward the stairwell, fully intending to march down to HR and quit. But as I rounded the corner, Victor's voice echoed from the hallway. "A hundred grand is not chump change. Once it hits my accounts, it's my money. Riley isn't asking for her commission. She's reaching into my wallet and robbing me." "I'm withholding it on purpose. What's she going to do? She'll swallow her pride and keep working like a dog to make me rich." My stomach dropped. I quickly stepped back, hiding behind a row of filing cabinets. I heard Serena’s voice next. "People online say firing your top earner is like cutting a major artery. You aren't worried she'll quit and take the clients with her?" Victor scoffed loudly. "Top earner? She's a gullible idiot!" "She only pulls those numbers because she has the Apex brand backing her. Any account she can close, I guarantee you can close too!" I heard the dull clink of ceramic as Victor playfully bumped his coffee mug against Serena's. Serena giggled. "Well, I know my place, unlike her. I'd gladly take a lower commission rate. Thanks for the opportunity, boss!" They erupted into laughter. "She brought this on herself. If she wants someone to blame, she can blame her own high numbers!" My fingernails dug so hard into my palms they almost broke the skin. The blood roared in my ears. Originally, I was just going to hand in my resignation and take the commission issue to the Department of Labor. But now? The game had changed. I was going to make Victor fire me. And I was going to bleed him dry for every single cent of severance and commission I was owed. 3 The end of the year was a nightmare of deadlines. Normally, the sales department was deserted by mid-afternoon as reps went out to meet clients. Today, everyone was glued to their monitors, furiously typing away. If I wasn't actively plotting my own termination, I would be drowning in work right now, chasing down delayed invoices while drafting strategic plans for the first quarter. Pulling twelve-hour shifts was the standard. But today? I was in absolute paradise. I played three rounds of a mobile game on the clock, streamed an episode of a new reality show, and when I got bored, I wandered down to the lobby to gossip with the receptionist. Before I knew it, it was quitting time. My coworkers were still typing frantically, completely oblivious to the clock. With exactly five minutes to spare, I shut down my laptop, packed my designer tote, and stood right in front of the fingerprint scanner. The second the clock struck five, I punched out and practically skipped out of the building. I had barely made it to the intersection down the street when my phone lit up with Serena's name. "Riley! Everyone is grinding out these deadlines and you just clock out without submitting your proposal?! Get your ass back here right now! The Crestwood Corp pitch is in a few days. I need that deck on my desk tonight!" "The deadline isn't for another three days. Chill out. I'll have the deck ready by the pitch." "Your pitch needs company approval first! I'm telling you for the last time, turn around and come back to the office. Disobey me, and I'll pull you off this flagship account!" I let out a dry laugh. "I don't even get commission anymore. Taking me off the account just sounds like a paid vacation." "Fine. You're going to regret this!" Serena slammed the phone down. I powered my phone completely off. After a nice, quiet dinner at home, I took my parents out for an evening walk in the park. I couldn't even remember the last time I had done this. Since I started working, my life was a relentless cycle of quotas and metrics. The fear of being dead last and publicly humiliated at the weekly meetings kept me constantly on the road, swallowing insults and forcing smiles for clients. And every year, the quotas got higher. The corporate greed was quite literally a bottomless pit. The next morning, I swiped into the office at exactly nine. Not a minute early. Walking past Serena's glass office, the harsh stench of stale cigarette smoke hit my nose. I asked Noah about it. He whispered that Serena hadn't gone home at all. She stayed up all night desperately trying to build the Crestwood proposal herself, but Victor kept rejecting her drafts. By lunch, she looked like a zombie. She didn't even stop to eat before dragging Victor out of the office with her. A few days later, the morning of the Crestwood pitch finally arrived. Serena’s exhausted aura was completely gone, replaced by an air of arrogant victory. Before heading out, she gathered the sales floor for a quick huddle. "Every ounce of success you have is because of this company. Don't ever delude yourselves into thinking that just because you have decent numbers, the company has to bow down to you. Get too full of yourself, and you'll find yourself out on the street!" I knew the threat was aimed directly at me, but I was so desperate to get fired that I couldn't stop the massive grin spreading across my face. Serena looked like she wanted to strangle me. Thankfully, Victor knocked on the glass, telling her the Uber was waiting, and she managed to swallow her rage. Noah leaned over and whispered that Serena and Victor had spent the previous evening taking Arthur Brooks, a VP at Crestwood, out for a very expensive dinner. Rumor had it the proposal was greenlit in private, and today's pitch was just a corporate formality. He looked at me with genuine anxiety. "Riley, aren't you worried at all? If Serena lands Crestwood, she's going to use that leverage to get rid of you." Arthur Brooks? I smirked, but kept my mouth shut. Over at Crestwood's headquarters, Serena was scheduled as the final presenter. She pulled up her deck, strutting across the front of the boardroom, words spilling out of her mouth a mile a minute. Just as she was hitting her stride, the lead executive cut her off. "Is this your actual proposal? The quality is completely unrecognizable from your previous work. You haven't even grasped our core demographic or strategic direction for Q1. I don't have time to entertain this garbage." Serena froze like a deer in headlights. Her confident smile shattered. A thin layer of cold sweat broke out across her forehead. "We... we built this exactly to Arthur's specifications..." The executive didn't even let her finish. He waved his hand dismissively and pushed his chair back to leave. Victor scrambled forward, panic in his eyes. "Please! The rep who normally writes our decks had a medical emergency! Give us one more chance. I'll have her send the real file over right now!" The executive paused, checked his watch, and slowly sat back down. Two minutes later, my phone rang. It was Victor. "Riley, get your ass over here right now!" When I didn't immediately respond, his voice shifted into desperate pleading. "If you save this account for us, I swear on my life I will pay out your full commission!" "Deal! With a promise like that, boss, consider it done." I hung up, grabbed my coat, and took a cab straight to the venue. Having worked with these executives for years, we were on great terms. When I walked into the boardroom, the icy atmosphere instantly thawed. "Hey, Riley!" "Thank god you're here, Riley. We were starting to get worried." I gave them a warm smile and immediately plugged my flash drive into the console. Victor, entirely convinced I had swallowed his bait about the commission, didn't even bother checking the file before tossing the remote to Serena. Serena stood back up, cleared her throat, and launched into a renewed opening statement. She got exactly two words out before the screen flashed. Suddenly, a massive, glitchy cartoon donkey appeared on the eighty-inch monitor, blasting a deafening, bass-boosted remix of "Old MacDonald" at max volume. The entire boardroom fell dead silent. Serena jumped backward, letting out a shriek. She frantically mashed the buttons on the clicker to close the presentation. But the clicker was totally unresponsive. The screen froze, leaving the neon donkey spinning upside down while the terrible music blared on a loop. A few people in the room started snickering. The lead executive slammed his hands on the table, absolutely furious. "Is this how Apex treats a multi-million dollar account?! Are you people making a joke out of us?!" At that exact moment, every single eye in the room turned to look at me.
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