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Fired Over a Gift Card, Then They Learned I Held $200 Million Novel Cover

Fired Over a Gift Card, Then They Learned I Held $200 Million

When her probation ends, an intern is abruptly fired after a petty colleague accuses her of stealing fifty thousand dollars in client gift cards. Mocked by her peers and her silent boss, Nelson, for claiming she is a client herself, she quietly packs her things and walks out. Her arrogant coworkers assume she only has a few thousand dollars to her name. What they fail to realize is that out of the bank's two hundred and thirty million dollars in total annual deposits, two hundred million belong entirely to her.
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Chapter 4

I caught Greg's raised fist and pulled it down, stepping in front of him.

Then I turned to Virginia with a cool smile.

"Go ahead. Let's see exactly how talented you are at keeping clients."

When I walked through the door, both my parents were home.

They looked confused to see me back so early and started asking questions.

I didn't answer. I just said one thing.

"I pulled all two hundred million out of Southeast Bank."

They glanced at each other and asked nothing more.

They never could figure me out. I didn't want Sterling Group—didn't want to run it, didn't want to inherit it. All I wanted was to drift through life without anyone needing anything from me. They let me, and they handed me two hundred million to do it with.

I couldn't spend it all. Then my old classmate Nelson Fox hit a wall in his career, so I deposited the money straight into his bank.

He'd thumped his chest and sworn up and down—once the bank was back on its feet, he'd roll out the red carpet for me, nothing but first-class everything.

I'd grown up swimming in that kind of treatment. None of what he was promising moved the needle. Then he heard I was bored out of my mind every day, so he carved out a position for me at the bank and practically begged me to take it—just something to kill time, he said.

But now he'd gotten full of himself.

Lost all sense of where he actually stood.

Fine. Then I'd help him figure it out.

The next morning hadn't even come and Southeast Bank was already in freefall. Depositors decided the bank was broke and started lining up to pull their money.

Virginia had just started the job and was desperate to impress the president. She loaded up on gifts and showed up at the Butler residence with her hair half out of place.

Walter Brooks opened the door, and she plastered on a gushing smile the instant she spotted my father on the sofa checking stock prices.

"Mr. Butler! You're our bank's biggest client—and oh my goodness, meeting you in person, you just have this incredible presence about you!"

"I brought some red wine and bird's nest for you and Mrs. Butler. Please, accept them."

My father despised flattery. He gave her nothing but cold silence.

Virginia's outstretched hands hung in the air, then dropped awkwardly to her sides.

"The thing is, Mr. Butler, I noticed you've had two hundred million deposited with us since the bank first opened. Why would you suddenly withdraw all of it?"

"You'd be losing quite a bit in interest!"

My father flipped his phone face-down and shut her right down with his first words.

"You came here to waste my time over a little interest?"

Virginia's face drained white. She couldn't get a full sentence out.

"Mr. Butler... that's not what I..."

"I know your time is valuable, and maybe... no, definitely you don't care about a small amount like that, but our bank's operations..."

The crease between my father's brows deepened with every word. His patience was gone.

He tossed his phone aside and took a sip of tea.

"Walter. Show her out."

Virginia clutched at Walter's arm, refusing to leave, still running her mouth.

Only now the panic had taken over, and whatever filter she'd had was gone.

"Mr. Butler, we need that money—we really, really need it, we've got projects that aren't even half done!"

"It's not like you even care about that kind of money, right? So just—just leave it in the bank!"

Walter knew my father's temper better than anyone. He knew those words were enough to set him off.

He leaned close to her ear and hissed: "Who do you think you are, telling Mr. Butler what to do with his money? Get out. Now. You cannot afford the consequences of making him angry."

He was right. My father was already on the edge.

He hadn't asked me why. He didn't need to. He knew I'd parked that money in Nelson's bank out of loyalty, because that was how I'd always been—once I cared about someone, I didn't count the cost. For me to pull every last cent out without a word meant they'd crossed a line I would never forgive.

I came downstairs still half-asleep, and jumped onto my dad's back the way I had since I was a kid.

I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"I'm starving. What are we having for dinner?"

The next second, I locked eyes with Virginia Austin, and she looked like a wreck.

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