Chapter 1

After helping the company land a massive enterprise deal, our CEO, Mr. Miller, clapped me hard on the shoulder.

"Forty million in profits is the target! The core team gets ten percent of the bonus base!"

I went home and told my wife, Sarah, that I expected my share to be around eight hundred thousand. She was over the moon, talking about how we could finally pay off the mortgage early.

On February twentieth, my phone buzzed with a payroll notification. Year-end bonus paid: $28,000 before taxes.

I stared at the numbers for a long time, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me.

When Sarah asked how much I got, I told her twenty-eight grand. The silverware in her hand clattered straight onto the kitchen floor.

I asked Amanda in HR for a breakdown. Her answer was blunt. "Those reports aren't for just anyone to see. You're not a shareholder, Jack."

Fine. If that's how they wanted to play it, we'd settle the score in three months.

February twentieth, 3:10 p.m.

My year-end bonus finally dropped.

Year-end bonus paid: $28,000 before taxes.

The open-plan office was dead silent. Everyone had their heads down, staring at their phones. Nobody said a word.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white.

The memory of the afternoon we locked down that massive client was still vivid. Miller had slammed both hands on the conference table, his booming voice echoing in the room.

"Our target this year is forty million on the profit measure in the bonus plan. Ten percent goes into the core team's pool. Give it everything you've got!"

Everyone had cheered back then. Mark, sitting right next to me, had practically vibrated with excitement, daydreaming about hundreds of thousands in bonuses.

The annual bonus report put the contract's profit measure at forty-two million. We'd exceeded the goal.

And my cut was twenty-eight thousand.

Mark leaned over, keeping his voice to a whisper. "Hey, Jack, what'd you pull?"

"Twenty-eight grand," I said, staring right into his eyes. "You?"

His expression tightened. "Uh... yeah, about the same."

With that, he slid back to his cubicle, avoiding my gaze completely.

I shoved my chair back and headed straight for Accounting.

Karen was seated at her desk, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Karen."

She didn't even lift her head. "Need something?"

"I want to see the bonus distribution statement."

Her fingers froze. She looked up, her eyes darting away before meeting mine.

"Take that up with HR."

I turned on my heel, my chest tight, pulse racing.

HR was at the very end of the hall. Amanda was in the middle of touching up her makeup.

Seeing me walk in, she smiled sweetly and set her compact down.

"Hey, Jack. What's up?"

"The bonus pool. At the all-hands, Miller promised ten percent..."

Amanda cut me off, her tone instantly turning icy. "Ten percent of the net profit."

"Net profit?" I said. "The figure on the report was forty-two million. That's the one in our agreements."

She capped her lipstick. "Jack, are you in Finance?"

I didn't answer.

"Finance uses a separate figure after the year-end adjustments. Executive bonuses and other charges are factored in. That's our policy."

Amanda took an elegant sip of her tea, entirely unbothered.

"It's all clearly outlined in the corporate policy."

I drew a deep breath. "Then let me look at the financial reports."

She gave a soft, condescending laugh that made my blood boil.

"The full financial statements are restricted, Jack. You're not an accountant or a shareholder."

I stared at her for ten solid seconds, unable to force out a single syllable.

In the end, I simply turned and walked away. The heavy office door clicked shut behind me with a dull, hollow thud.

When the workday ended, I drove home in total silence.

The traffic lights shifted from green to red, but all I could see was that five-figure number floating in my mind.

Twenty-eight grand.

This time last year, I'd held Sarah in my arms and told her my agreement put my share at eight hundred thousand if the team hit its target.

She'd smiled so brightly back then, talking about wiping out a massive chunk of our thirty-year mortgage in one go.

And now, it was twenty-eight thousand.

When I pushed open the front door, Sarah was in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the latch click, she turned around.

"Did payroll send the bonus?"

I gave a slight nod. "Yeah."

"How much?"

I slipped off my jacket, my throat feeling dry and raw. "Twenty-eight grand."

The fork slipped from her hand, clattering loudly against the ceramic tile.

"What did you say?"

"Twenty-eight thousand," I said, sinking onto the living room sofa. "Management claims it was calculated off net profit."

Her face drained of color. She quickly wiped her damp hands on an apron and marched over.

"Didn't you swear we were getting eight hundred thousand? How are we supposed to clear the mortgage now?"

"I'll figure something out."

"Figure what out?" Sarah's voice shot up an octave. "Did you even confront them?"

"I did. They said everything followed company guidelines."

She stood over me, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sheer fury and crushing disappointment.

"Jack, why are you always such a pushover? It's been three years! What can you actually do besides keep your head down and write code?"

"Other people steal your credit, and you keep your mouth shut! The company cheats you out of your hard-earned money, and you don't even fight back!"

Her voice cracked, choked with tears. "Are you even a man?"

I parted my lips to defend myself, but nothing came out.

Sarah spun around, stormed into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. The bang echoed through the empty apartment.

I sat alone on the couch, staring blankly at the dim lamp in the corner.