Part 1Fake Data, Locked Archive And My Counterattack

I was once Wall Street’s youngest prodigy, a legendary risk analyst. Now, I was trapped in an office drama as cannon fodder. Day one, I was handed a suicide mission: the Easton Properties risk assessment was due next week with no raw data. The department waited for me to burn.

Bianca, the office sweetheart, pretended to help. She stayed until ten each night, eyes brimming with fake concern. Everyone called her an angel. She slid a folder across my desk. "Private contact files. Patch your report, but stay quiet."

The floating chat bar appeared: [Setup begins.][White lotus knows you’re desperate.][Fake lifeline = easy trap.][Submit cooked numbers, get humiliated, CEO trip goes to Bianca.]

I opened the folder. Page three: net profit with an extra zero. Eight years on Wall Street, and they thought elementary math could blindside me?

…

"Thank you so much, Bianca. I won't forget this," I said, clutching the folder to my chest and putting on my best performance of a grateful, desperate rookie.

A flash of smug satisfaction flared in Bianca's eyes. She patted my shoulder soothingly before spinning on her heels and heading toward the breakroom.

"Look at you, doing charity work again."

Mandy swaggered over with her mug, her eyes dripping with condescension as she scanned me from head to toe.

"Some people graduate from Ivy League schools only to prove they can't even balance a basic spreadsheet. It's embarrassing how she clings to Bianca's coat-tails every single day."

I kept my head down, staring at my sneakers without a word. Bianca hurried back from the breakroom, gently catching Mandy's arm.

"Mandy, don't talk about Fiona like that. She's new to the firm and still learning. We're all on the same team, we should help each other."

Mandy scoffed. "You're too soft, Bianca. Watch out, or you'll hatch a snake that'll bite you when you least expect it."

"Oh, hush," Bianca teased, nudging Mandy before turning to me with a bright smile. "Fiona, since everyone is craving a coffee break, would you mind running down to the Starbucks downstairs? I'd love an iced shaken hibiscus herbal tea, light ice, and only one pump of cane sugar. Don't get it wrong, okay?"

She handed me a ten-dollar bill with a sweet grin. A single drink cost at least fifteen, yet she gave me ten.

I took the bill and nodded meekly. "Sure, I'll go right now."

As I walked toward the elevator, Mandy's mockery drifted after me. "Run along. That's about all you're good for anyway."

The moment the elevator doors slid shut, my timid expression vanished. I pulled out my phone, typed a complex string of commands, and bypassed the security protocols to access a secure, private server. My fingers flew across the screen.

Two minutes later, an encrypted file dropped into my personal inbox.

It was the raw, unedited financial history of Easton Properties for the past three years. Behind their beautifully manicured balance sheets lay a looming multi-million dollar liquidity crisis.

When I returned with the coffees, I walked past the breakroom. The door was cracked open, and hushed laughter slipped through.

"Bianca, why did you even bother giving her those files?" Mandy's voice was sharp.

Bianca chuckled. "She has no other way to get data, so how is she going to deliver her report? I'm just playing the good Samaritan. I'd hate to see her get fired by Tabitha."

"You're too kind for your own good! When she messes up the presentation tomorrow, make sure you don't take any of the blame."

"Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm doing."

I pushed the door open, my face blank. The laughter died instantly.

Mandy cleared her throat awkwardly, turning her back to wash her mug.

Bianca immediately masked her face with her signature sweet smile and walked over. "Oh, Fiona, you're back! Thank you so much." She reached for the tray of drinks.

"It was no trouble," I said, releasing my grip.

Suddenly, the main office door was slammed open. Tabitha, our department director, marched out with a stormy face, her sharp eyes scanning the room. "Fiona! Get in my office right now!"

The entire floor went silent. Smirks and whispers rippled through the cubicles as everyone watched me.

Bianca gave my sleeve a worried tug. "Go on, Fiona. Just keep your head down and don't argue with her."

I set the tray down and walked in.

Tabitha slammed a heavy folder onto her desk. "The preliminary screening for Easton Properties is tomorrow. Where is your risk assessment model?"

I glanced at the folder. "The raw data provided was insufficient. The model isn't ready."

"Bullshit!" Tabitha roared, slamming her hand on the desk. "The entire team has been working themselves to the bone, and you spend your day fetching coffee and staring into space! If you can't even put together basic numbers by tomorrow, don't bother showing your face here again."