No Commission? Watch Me Raise Hell in the Tax Bureau

"And you too—"

Before I could finish, Hannah cut me off. "Enough! Stop acting as if we owe you. Isn't a senior like you supposed to do all of that? Do you really think you deserve that much credit?"

The people I had just called out visibly relaxed, praising her for her generosity and leadership.

"Fine. I was just doing my job," I said, offering a perfunctory smile. "I hope you do even better in the future, Ms. Storrie."

With that, I couldn't be bothered to argue with her any longer and headed straight for my desk. But when I reached my workstation, my expression darkened at what I saw.

My personal belongings had been rummaged through and left in complete disarray. My white coat had been tossed onto the floor, and there were footprints on it. My books and work laptop had clearly been tampered with as well.

There were also signs of someone going through my social media apps and chat histories.

"Who did this?"

My question silenced the noisy office at once.

Hannah sauntered in right after, looking unfazed as she replied, "The admin department needed the workstation for a new employee, so we kindly helped you pack up.

"I didn't expect a salesgirl like you to read finance and tax books. Quite studious, are you?

"But you have way too many things, and accidents happen. A few items fell as we were helping you pack up."

Someone nearby chimed in. "You're leaving anyway. Why be so fussy?"

My expression hardened. "Did the admin department ask that you check through my private chat records too?"

Hannah blinked and replied indifferently, "The computer is company property. And company policy states that departing employees must undergo a work handover review. I was just worried that you might accidentally take some client data that you shouldn't."

Hearing how confident she sounded as I checked my computer finally made me notice something. She had deleted a large number of my contacts, including clients, partners, and even several classmates from the same industry.

I stared at my now-empty contact list, and my fingers trembled with anger.

"Ms. Storrie, you're certainly thorough," I gritted out. "You even helped me cut ties with my college friends."

Folding her arms, Hannah looked at me with feigned surprise and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, maybe I deleted them by mistake. But since you're leaving this industry anyway, those connections won't be of much use, will they?"

I didn't say anything. Instead, I took out my phone and took photos and video of the ransacked desk, my coat on the floor, and the computer login records.

"What are you doing?" Hannah hissed, stepping forward and trying to snatch my phone away.

I dodged her hand and glared at her. "Calling the police, of course. You violated my right to privacy. You'll certainly get a few days in detention."

"Calling the police?" she shrieked. "Julia, you're out of your mind!"

She looked as if she'd swallowed a lemon as she reached for my phone again.

Just then, the boss, Peter Zane, rushed over after hearing the commotion.

"What's all this ruckus?" he bellowed, frowning. "Julia, you're leaving anyway. Don't make things ugly."

I took a deep breath and recounted everything that just happened.

"Violating your rights?" Peter waved his hand impatiently. "Hannah only did it for the company's benefit. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

He took a step closer and lowered his voice in a threat. "Julia, you'd better not push your luck.

"With my connections in this industry, I can make sure you never get another job. I would only have to say the word."

"Mr. Zane, please don't be angry," Hannah interrupted, feigning concern. "Julia was just desperate. After all, being laid off so suddenly is hard to accept."

She turned to me and offered me a generous smile. "Julia, since we worked together, I'll put in a good word for you.

"The company's cleaning lady happened to quit yesterday. If you really can't find a job, you can stay and work as a cleaner."