Infinite Rebate: I Get Richer Every Time I Spend

Gracie stepped into the office, and the air seemed to change with her.

Even without saying a word, her presence filled the room. The fitted suit hugged her waist and chest, while every step made the heavy curve of her ass impossible to ignore. She did not look nervous. She did not look apologetic. She walked in like a woman who already understood the effect she had and had stopped pretending otherwise.

Lena shifted back the moment she saw her.

For a second the two women only looked at each other. Gracie’s gaze moved over Lena once, brief and unreadable, before she turned her attention away as if the other woman were already irrelevant. That alone made something ugly twist in Lena’s chest.

What gives this bitch the confidence to come here?

After everything she had done. After the livestream. After the public humiliation. And still she walked into Durnik’s office like she belonged at the center of it.

Then came the worse part.

Durnik stood up so fast his chair rolled back behind him. The harsh authority he had used on Lena only moments earlier vanished from his face, replaced by open, almost shameless excitement. He crossed the room toward Gracie with the eager energy of a man who could not believe his luck.

"Gracie," he said, voice warm and greedy. "My love."

He went in for a hug at once.

Gracie stepped back half a pace and extended her hand instead, clean and controlled. The rejection was polite, but it was still a rejection. Durnik paused for only a fraction of a second before taking her hand and shaking it, too pleased by her presence to care about the distance she had set.

"Come, sit," he said quickly, already guiding her toward the desk. "Sit here. I ordered a custom chair for you. Two hundred thousand. Soft enough for you. You’ll love it here."

Lena’s stomach dropped.

Two hundred thousand.

For a chair.

She had given this man her body for months. Let him touch her, use her, talk down to her, keep her late, and call it opportunity. In return, the best he had ever done was stretch her salary by a miserable five thousand. And now he was spending a fortune just so another woman’s ass could sit comfortably in his office.

The shock left her standing there stiff and silent, trying to make sense of a scene that felt deliberately designed to insult her.

Durnik finally noticed she was still in the room.

The softness he had shown Gracie disappeared instantly.

"What are you still doing here?" he snapped. "Get your filthy ass out. Now."

The shout cracked through the office.

Lena flinched hard, the words slamming into her with more force because of who they were spoken in front of. For a second she could only stare at him, heat rushing to her face, the humiliation complete. Then her body moved on instinct. She turned and walked out, each step tight with rage.

He shouted at me because of her.

The thought kept repeating as she left.

By the time she reached the corridor, her decision was already forming. She was not going to swallow this. Receptionist work, public replacement, being dismissed like trash in front of the woman who had taken her place ~no.

She would not simply disappear quietly. Before she left this company for good, Durnik and Gracie were both going to feel it.

She headed toward her old office first, needing to gather what was left of her things.

Then she stopped in the doorway.

The place was already being emptied.

Cleaners were inside. Her belongings had been pulled from the desk and shelves and dumped into a large trash bin outside the door. A renovation team was already moving furniture, stripping the space, treating it like she had never worked there at all. The speed of it made the insult sharper. She had only just been pushed out, and already the company was erasing her.

Lena stood there for a moment, stunned, frustrated, and burning from the inside out.

Lena stepped toward the workers, her voice already sharp.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

One of the cleaners looked up, confused. A man in a renovation vest paused with a drawer in his hands. Her things were half out of the office already ~ framed photos, files, a spare blazer, even the mug she kept at the corner of her desk ~ all of it being treated like discarded junk.

"We were told to clear this room," the worker said carefully. "New arrangement."

"By who?" Lena demanded.

No one answered at first. That silence alone told her enough. Orders had come from above. Fast ones. The kind nobody in that building questioned if they wanted to keep their job.

She pushed past them anyway and grabbed for the bin, pulling out what she could with both hands. A notebook. A pair of heels she left under the desk. A small makeup pouch. Each item she recovered only made the humiliation burn hotter.

This morning she had walked into the building as the woman closest to the chairman. Now her life in that office was being emptied into plastic like she had never mattered.

"You don’t touch another thing," she snapped. "These are mine."

One of the men lifted his hands slightly, not interested in fighting a furious woman over trash and office scraps. The others stepped back and let her dig through the bin, watching with the awkward quiet of people who knew they were looking at someone in the middle of a public fall.

Lena’s hands were shaking by the time she had gathered what she could carry. Her face was hot. Her throat was tight. In her head, the image of Durnik running toward Gracie kept replaying ~ the smile, the eagerness, the expensive chair, the way he had shouted at her like she was dirt on the floor.

She was done being quiet.

She turned away from the half-stripped office with her belongings clutched against her chest, eyes wet with anger rather than weakness. If Durnik thought she would disappear politely, he was wrong. If Gracie thought taking her place came with no consequences, she was wrong too.

Lena left the floor with one decision already settled.

Before this was over, both of them would pay for this.

---

Back in the chairman’s office, the door had shut on the noise outside.

With Lena gone, the room felt different at once. Quieter. Heavier. Durnik’s attention returned fully to Gracie, and this time there was no interruption left to hide behind. He looked at her like a man who had finally gotten the thing he wanted into his private space and had no intention of rushing the moment.

"Sit," he said again, softer now. "Please."

Gracie glanced once at the seat he was offering, then at him, already measuring how close she could let him get without losing control of the room.

The private conversation had begun.

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