The Intern Accused Me of Stealing, So I Took Everything

The next morning, as soon as I arrived, Linda from HR walked over to me.

“Caroline,” she said, her expression awkward, “I need to talk to you.”

She pulled a document from her briefcase.

“The company has decided to put you on a one-week observation period.” She avoided my gaze. “Your future role will be determined based on your attitude this week.”

“Observation?” I laughed softly. “You mean demoted and on unpaid leave.”

Linda blushed. “Caroline, you know I don’t want to do this, but it’s a decision from the top…”

“I understand,” I cut her off. “So who’s taking over my clients?”

“Lia,” Linda said quickly. “She’s been officially promoted to Senior Client Director and will be responsible for all major client accounts. So, you’ll need to transfer all your current client resources to her.”

Senior Client Director.

It seemed Claude had given her more than just my office; he’d given her a brand new title.

When I walked back into the office that was once mine, I barely recognized it.

The abstract painting on the wall had been replaced with gaudy decorative art. My carefully chosen minimalist furniture was gone, replaced by gilded, faux-Baroque pieces. The entire space looked like a nouveau-riche living room.

Lia sat behind the desk in a new Chanel suit, flipping through the client files I’d left behind.

“You’re here?” she said without looking up. “Have a seat.”

I sat down in the visitor’s chair. This little power play was... interesting.

“I need you to brief me on a few key clients,” Lia said, picking up a file. “Especially this one, Arthur Wellington. Tell me what he likes.”

Arthur Wellington.

A small smile played on my lips.

“Arthur is very important,” I nodded. “He’s an avid golfer. Plays at the Westchester Country Club.”

Lia’s eyes lit up as she quickly jotted down the information.

It was all true.

Arthur Wellington did have those hobbies.

I just didn’t tell her that Arthur Wellington was my uncle, and his interest in partnering with us was purely a favor to me.

And I certainly didn’t tell her that the Westchester Country Club was one of my family’s businesses.

Lia closed her notebook, looking smug. “Perfect. I’m sure I can close this deal now.”

“Since you’ve been so cooperative, I’m in a good mood. I might even put in a good word for you with Claude.”

I ignored her childish boasting and drove straight to the Westchester Country Club.

Robert, the club manager, hurried over to me. “Miss Caroline, how may I assist you today?”

“Robert, I need to make some changes to my membership,” I said directly. “From today onward, no one is permitted to enter the club using my VIP card or my name unless I am physically present.”

Robert nodded. “Understood. I’ll inform the front desk and security immediately.”

“Also,” I continued, “if they try to apply for a new membership to get in, they are to be denied.”

“I understand, Miss Caroline. We will enforce these rules strictly.”

After handling things at the club, I waited on the curb for my driver.

The autumn sunset in New York was beautiful. The leaves on the sycamore trees were turning yellow, and pedestrians hurried by in light jackets.

Just then, a black Maybach turned the corner and pulled up beside me.

I recognized it as Claude’s car.

The window rolled down, revealing Claude’s fake smile.

Lia was in the passenger seat, wearing her new Chanel suit, reapplying her lipstick.

“Well, well, Caroline!” Lia said, deliberately lowering the window, her voice filled with exaggerated surprise. “What are you doing here? Waiting for the bus?”

Claude chuckled along. “Lia, don’t be like that. Caroline is probably just out for a walk.”

“We’re on our way to Le Bernardin to celebrate,” Lia said, showing off. “Celebrating me successfully taking over the company’s biggest client. Arthur Wellington is signing the contract with me tomorrow. An eighty-million-dollar investment!”

“By the way,” Lia added just before the window rolled up, “don’t forget to pay back that hundred and fifty thousand in three days! Or we’ll have to take it out of your stock dividends!”

The Maybach sped away with a roar, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

I watched the car disappear down the street, and my expression turned to ice.