Chapter 2

"Valerie, have you lost your mind?"

Justin Miller, our Vice President, stormed over, his face a mask of pure annoyance.

"Fifty people! It’s the middle of the night, and you want everyone to pack up and switch hotels? Do you have any idea how much a night at the Grand Platinum costs?"

I looked him dead in the eye.

"I’m signing the bill. It won't touch your budget."

"You're signing for it? You’re just an admin director, Valerie. Do you actually think you own this company?" Justin sneered.

Right then, Dexter Harris waddled over, his beer belly leading the way.

"Come on, Valerie, no need for the attitude," Dexter said with a greasy, fake smile. "Maybe my words were a bit blunt, but the logic is sound. In business, milking loyal clients... I mean, maximizing profit is just how things work. Why make a big deal out of it?"

I ignored him and looked down at my phone.

The WhatsApp group chat was blowing up. One employee asked, "Valerie, are we really leaving? I already unpacked my clothes."

I replied: *“Yes. Pack now. Meet in the lobby in ten minutes.”*

Justin grabbed my wrist, hard.

"Valerie, I order you to delete that message right now." His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "Everyone just survived a four-hour bus ride. They are exhausted. And you're dragging them through this just because of a fifty-dollar difference? Have you even considered the team's feelings?"

"A fifty-dollar difference is still money," I said, cold as ice, as I yanked my wrist back. "Over three years, I’ve brought him millions in business, and he treats me like a sucker. Is that how he does business?"

Dexter burst into a loud laugh.

"Rules? Valerie, on this block, I, Dexter Harris, am the rule."

He leaned in closer. The heavy, disgusting stench of stale cigarettes hit my face.

"You think the Grand Platinum is a place you can just stroll into? It’s a five-star hotel. It’s peak tourist season right now. Forget fifty rooms—they wouldn't even have five available. Executive suites? You're dreaming."

I took a half-step back to clear myself from his disgusting breath.

"That's none of your business, Mr. Harris."

Justin pointed his finger right at my nose, almost touching my face.

"Valerie, if you dare walk out of that door with these people today, you will be solely responsible for tomorrow’s retreat events! If anything goes wrong, I will personally file a report to the CEO and get you fired the second we get back!"

I looked at Justin’s angry, panicked face.

I wasn’t blind. I knew exactly what was going on between him and Dexter.

Over the past three years, every time I booked this hotel, Justin would get a fat kickback from Dexter under some fake expense report.

Today, I wasn’t just cutting off Dexter’s cash flow. I was cutting off Justin's.

"Do whatever you want," I said, brushing past him toward the elevator.

Behind me, Dexter’s mocking voice echoed through the lobby.

"Hey, Justin, look at this drama. Kids these days just can’t handle a little reality check. Just wait. When she comes crawling back in a few minutes, the room rates won't be this cheap anymore."

Justin immediately offered a fawning smile. "Don't worry, Dexter. She's not going anywhere. I’ll make sure everyone stays put."

I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.

As the doors closed, I saw Justin typing frantically in the group chat.

His voice message popped up: *“Nobody check out! Anyone who follows Valerie’s little stunt can kiss their monthly performance bonus goodbye!”*

The elevator descended.

I watched the numbers tick down. My heart was completely calm.

Ding. The doors opened to the lobby.

I stepped out and found about a dozen employees already waiting there.

They were mostly the younger staff, people I had personally mentored or who had just joined the company. They stood there with their suitcases, looking incredibly anxious.

Seeing me, a young girl named Chloe stepped forward.

"Valerie... Justin is screaming in the group chat. Are we really doing this?"

I nodded.

"We are."

But before we could take another step, the glass doors of the lobby were slammed shut from the outside.

Two burly security guards in uniform blocked the exit, locking the doors.

Dexter stepped out from another elevator, holding a walkie-talkie in his hand.

"Leaving? To where?"

The fake smile was gone. His face was now twisted into an ugly, threatening grimace.

"Your room cards have been activated. You’ve already entered the rooms. Now you want to check out? Sure."

He walked over to the front desk and tapped his fat fingers on the marble counter.

"Lucy, calculate the cancellation fees, wear-and-tear damages, and the loss of tonight's empty rooms for Ms. Vance."

The young receptionist, Lucy, was trembling. Her fingers shook as she tapped on the keyboard.

I stared at Dexter. "We haven't even unpacked. What wear-and-tear?"

"Your people walked on my carpets, used my elevators, and breathed my air-conditioning. That’s wear-and-tear," Dexter sneered. "Valerie, you're not walking out of my door today without bleeding some cash."

At the counter, Lucy stammered out a number.

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