Don't Cross the Top Closer

The new accountant snatched the stack of receiptssix months of my blood, sweat, and tearsfrom my hand.

She slammed them onto the floor and drove the pointed toe of her stiletto directly into the paper.

Past the deadline. They're void, she said. The company only reimburses cheap motels now. You can pay out of pocket for these luxury suite bills.

My fingernails dug into my palms.

I had been grinding non-stop on the road for six months to secure a multimillion-dollar contract for this company.

And now they were pulling this?

I kept my eyes locked on her arrogant face. "The company has never had a policy like that. Who gave you the authority?"

She let out a short, breathy laugh, her chin tilting up. "I'm the accountant. More importantly, my dad is on the board of directors."

She looked at me like I was the punchline to a joke. "Think you're so special just because you're the top sales rep?"

"Everyone knows you got this contract by batting your eyelashes and whoring yourself out to those male executives. Don't play the company hero with me. Here, you play by my rules."

Chapter 1

I stared at the girl in front of me. She couldn't be older than her early twenties, her makeup flawlessly applied. "Excuse me?"

She crossed her arms and shoved the stack of receipts to the edge of the desk like it was a pile of garbage.

"I said, I'm not reimbursing these." She repeated it, her voice dripping with annoyance. "Didn't you read the email about the new policy last month? Receipts must be submitted within the same month."

"Plus, we only cover the cheapest motels now. You expect to treat the company like your personal ATM with these Hilton and Marriott bills?"

I took a slow breath, forcing my jaw to unclench. "I've been on the road for six months, stationed directly at the project site. How exactly was I supposed to submit them the same month?"

"Besides, this is a multimillion-dollar contract. The client specifically required to meet at five-star hotels. You want me to drag a premium client to a cheap roadside motel?"

"That sounds like a 'you' problem, not a 'me' problem." Delaney tilted her chin up, her gaze raking over me with undisguised contempt.

"Think you're so special just because you're the top sales rep? My dad is on the board of directors. Here, you play by my rules."

She leaned in slightly. "Besides, everyone knows exactly how a woman like you landed a multimillion-dollar deal. Don't play the company hero with me using dirty contracts negotiated in hotel rooms."

The office instantly flatlined.

The ambient typing stopped, and every pair of eyes in the room zeroed in on me.

I looked at her, and a short laugh escaped my lips.

Perfect.

It seemed during my six months away, the company had acquired a brand-new princess. I didn't argue with her. Screaming in the middle of the floor would only make me look unhinged.

I picked up the stack of receipts, turned on my heel, and headed straight for the CEO's office.

Harrison had been the one to discover me when I first joined. He was the one who had fought tooth and nail to transfer me from tech to sales, clapping me on the shoulder back then. "Quinn, you've got more grit than anyone I've ever met. This company will never shortchange its heroes."

I knocked on the heavy glass door. Harrison ushered me in with a warm, welcoming smile and offered me a seat.

By the time I finished explaining the situation on the floor, the smile had calcified on his face.

He picked up his desk phone and punched in an extension. "Delaney, come to my office for a minute."

The sharp clack-clack of stilettos echoed in the hallway before Delaney pushed the door open. Seeing me sitting there, the corner of her mouth hitched up into a provocative smirk. "You wanted to see me, Harrison?"

"Well" Harrison pointed at the receipts sitting on his desk, his voice tight with awkwardness. "Quinn's situation is a bit of an exception. Can we make a special case for this one?"

Delaney didn't even blink. Her tone was robotic. "Harrison, policy is policy. Without rules, there's chaos."

"If we bend them for her, how am I supposed to run the finance department moving forward? My dad always emphasizes that standardized management starts with the details."

She placed heavy, deliberate emphasis on the words my dad.

Harrison's face flushed a deep red before all the color drained out of it, leaving him a sickly pale gray.

Finally, he let out a long sigh and shifted his gaze back to me. "Quinn, listen why don't you just bite the bullet on this one?"

"Look, Delaney is just looking out for the company, strictly enforcing the rules. As our top sales rep, you should be setting an example. Support your new colleague, right?"

He deflected seamlessly, throwing out empty corporate buzzwords about the "big picture" and "mutual understanding" to smooth over his own cowardice.

Chapter 2

I got it.

Between the board member's daughter and the top performer who had just generated millions in profit for him, he didn't hesitate to throw me under the bus. All that talk about valuing my work, all those empty promisesthey meant nothing in the face of raw power. This man, who had sworn up and down I was the company's hero, didn't blink before turning me into a sacrificial lamb to beg for scraps from the corporate overlords.

I walked out of the CEO's office clutching the stack of receipts, dead silent. Delaney trailed right behind me, shoulders squared and chin high, strutting like she owned the damn place. When we reached the bullpen, she deliberately stopped by my desk.

"See that, Quinn?" She let out a scoff dripping with arrogance. "Being a top biller doesn't buy you special privileges here."

"My dad calls the shots now. Next time you want to expense something, you'd better clear it with me first. Save yourself the embarrassment of running to Harrison just to get humiliated all over again."

A few of the bottom-feeding sales reps who always hated my guts instantly swarmed over to kiss her ass. "Exactly. Delaney is right. We need structure here."

"Quinn still thinks she's living in an era where she can call the shots just by batting her eyelashes and flaunting her looks. Preston runs the show now."

I blocked out the static. I sat down, booted up my laptop, and mechanically began sorting through six months of project data and client communication logs. They thought I was just swallowing the disrespect. Taking the hit.

What they didn't understand was that for a top-tier closer, when the rules no longer protect you, you learn to exploit them.

Or better yet you rewrite them.

That evening, I blew off the department's welcome-back dinner and walked into my empty apartment. I dropped my luggage on the floor. I didn't even bother hitting the light switch.

I just sat there in the pitch black. I sat there in the suffocating silence until the harsh blue light of my phone screen sliced through the dark.

A billing notification from the oncology department.

My lungs seized.

The clinical rationality I had held together with duct tape all day snapped.

Buried in that stack of voided receipts was fifteen grand I had fronted out of my own pocket. That money was already earmarked. It was supposed to cover my mother's next round of targeted therapy.

Month four of the road trip, the call came in. Lung cancer.

I had nearly blacked out right there in the hotel lobby, ready to book the next flight home.

But the project was at the absolute tipping point. A team of fifty people had been grinding with me for months, and a single flinch from the client would have burned the whole thing to the ground.

So I ground my teeth together and wired every last cent of my savings back home. I told my family to find the best specialist, get the best meds, and leave the money to me. I had promised myself that if I closed this deal and secured that six-figure bonus, I could save her. I had forced fake smiles over expensive dinners with clients while my mother's deteriorating face burned behind my eyelids.

They didn't just spit on my work.

They were cutting off my mother's lifeline!

I marched to the kitchen, downed a massive glass of ice water, and forced back the urge to flip the heavy dining table straight through the wall. The sheer weight of the exhaustion threatened to bury me alive, but breaking down was a luxury I couldn't afford. I could eat the financial loss.

But the utter disrespect? The way they trampled over my blood and my sacrifices? I was going to carve my payback right out of their hides.

Chapter 3

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. An email notification about the updated corporate finance policy.

I clicked it open. The "cheap motel only" rule was sitting right there in black and white.

The publish date? Exactly one month agothe exact week I closed the contract and was preparing to head back to the office.

In the CC list, along with all employees and a few board members, Preston's name sat right at the very top. Delaney's father.

Everything clicked. This wasn't a coincidence. It was a targeted hit. A warning shot fired directly at me.

I opened my contacts and stopped on a familiar name. Edgar. The most cutthroat headhunter in the industry. He'd been trying to poach me for three years, and my answer was always not yet.

Now? The timing was perfect.

Then, I dialed the multimillion-dollar client I had just closed. "Good evening, Julian. I have a 'new idea' regarding the next phase of our partnership that I'd love to run by you"

They wanted to play by the rules?

Fine. I was about to show them who really wrote the rulebook.

The call with Julian lasted less than twenty minutes. I didn't utter a single complaint about the company's treatment, nor did I breathe a word about the pathetic reimbursement stunt. I simply stepped into his shoes as the client and analyzed our company's recent "drastic shake-ups in corporate structure and financial policies." I offered a "friendly" warning that this kind of "instability" could pose "potential risks" to the execution efficiency and financial security of Phase Two of his project.

Finally, I "casually" mentioned that our biggest competitor, Horizon Tech, had recently poached our regional Director of Engineering, and their new product line seemed to align far better with Phase Two's performance requirements.

"Quinn, thank you," Julian said, his voice dropping into a deadly serious register. "You're the most responsible project lead I've ever worked with. I'm having my team reassess the risk factors for Phase Two immediately."

I ended the call, a cold smile curling my lips. With a multimillion-dollar contract, the slightest ripple at the executive level could trigger a tsunami. Julian was a shrewd business titan; he instantly smelled the fatal risk.

You thought you were defending the company's "rules," Delaney?

You were about to learn the hard way that in sales, the client is the only rule that matters.

The next day, I took PTO. I met Edgar at a high-end espresso bar downtown.

When he saw me, a shark-like grin spread across his face. "Quinn, you finally saw the light. Do you have any idea how many firms are lining up to poach you?"

He slid a sleek folder across the table. "Three top-tier firms. All offering the VP of Sales position. You name your salary."

"Stock options and profit-sharing are entirely on the table. The CEO of Horizon Tech specifically asked for you."

"Say the word, and he'll hand you the entire East Coast market. You build your own team from the ground up."

Horizon Tech. The exact competitor I had name-dropped to Julian last night.

I didn't answer right away. I took a slow sip of my espresso, letting the silence stretch.

"Edgar, I'm not here to pick an offer today." I set the cup down, meeting his eyes.

"I'm here to build a trap."

Chapter 4

Edgar froze for a second, then let out a sharp laugh, jabbing a finger in my direction. "You still as watertight as ever. Tell me, how do you want to play this? I've always said any company is too small for a shark like you, unless you're running the whole show."

"It's simple." I leaned forward, dropping my voice. "You negotiate the Horizon Tech offer for me."

"Nail down every microscopic detail, and act like I'm doing them a favor by even looking at it. But rememberdo not accept."

"I just need you to 'accidentally' leak it. Make sure the entire industry knows Horizon Tech is willing to buy out my current contract just to get their hands on me."

He held up eight fingers. "They're willing to throw down this much in a signing bonus just for Julian's project."

"Perfect." I nodded. "Make sure that exact number 'accidentally' leaks out, too."

That was corporate reality. In one place, all your blood and sweat couldn't outweigh a single sentence from a nepo baby. In another, your track record was a goldmine they'd fight tooth and nail for with cold, hard cash.

And all I had to do was make sure the people at the first place got a crystal-clear look at that price tag