Infinite Rebate: I Get Richer Every Time I Spend

The news tore through the company faster than any official memo.

By the time it reached Lena, there were already three different versions of the same bullshit.

One said Durnik had fired a female employee on the spot for talking back.

Another said the poor woman only reminded him he was in the female section.

The third one was the worst: people claimed Gracie was involved, because more than one person had seen the chairman coming out of that same toilet area with her.

That last part made Lena freeze.

Gracie and Durnik.

From the toilet side.

Together.

Around her, the office was boiling in that quiet, cowardly way people got angry when they still wanted to keep their jobs. Women were exchanging looks over their screens. A few were whispering near the copy machine. Somebody muttered that the chairman was getting worse, then immediately shut up like the walls might report them.

Lena barely heard any of them.

Her own anger was different.

She knew those hallways. She knew those restrooms. She knew exactly what it meant when that bastard followed a woman into places he had no business entering. She had given that fool access before ~ not because she loved him, not because she even liked him, but because she thought spreading her legs for that old idiot would protect her position and grow her salary. Toilets. Empty offices. Dirty little corners that still made her stomach turn when she remembered them too clearly. All of it traded for the hope of being kept.

And now the same bastard was running the same route with Gracie.

Lena’s face hardened.

So after everything she had swallowed, after all the humiliation, after letting that small-dick fool use her like a convenience, he wanted to toss her aside and parade another woman around like nothing happened?

Fine.

If that bastard thought she was going to sit quietly and watch, he was more stupid than she already knew he was.

She already knew who could hurt him.

Lucas.

The name had been sitting at the edge of company gossip and private fear ever since the failed attempt on Gracie and the humiliation that followed Durnik around like a smell. Lena did not need full details to understand the shape of it. Durnik had an enemy. A real one. And right now, that was exactly what she wanted.

She unlocked her phone and started searching.

At first it was only the obvious places. Old numbers. Saved contacts. Random internal notes she had taken when she still thought loyalty might protect her. Nothing useful came up. Every dead end made her more restless. She scrolled harder, jaw tight, switching between apps like the right answer might appear if she forced it.

Then she remembered something better.

Durnik’s files.

Even after the demotion, not everything had been cleaned out properly. The man was arrogant, messy, and too used to other people handling the details he could not be bothered to secure. Lena still had residual access to some of the folders she used to manage for him ~ private contact lists, external names, flagged people, useless "target" notes he kept like a cheap villain who thought saving a number counted as strategy.

She opened the old directory with her heart beating faster.

One folder was labeled so stupidly she almost laughed.

Another held screenshots, numbers, and half-written threats.

A third contained names of people Durnik hated enough to monitor.

That was where she found it.

Not on the first try. Not cleanly either. She had to dig through repeated entries, dead contacts, and notes written in the kind of angry shorthand only Durnik would leave behind. More than once she thought she had it, only to realize the number belonged to some other problem he had been obsessing over. Each false lead made her more determined.

Then one name kept showing up with a different weight attached to it.

Lucas.

The notes around it were messy and bitter. Missed opportunities. Failed pressure. Warnings written like the man on the other end had already cost Durnik more face than he knew how to recover. Lena stared at the number for a long second, thumb hovering above the screen.

This was it.

Not gossip.

Not a maybe.

A direct line into the one person Durnik actually feared.

She saved it, opened a chat, and introduced herself.

No answer.

She sent another message, more direct this time.

Still nothing.

A third followed, sharper and less polished, the patience already draining out of her fingertips. By the time she lost her temper completely, her thumb was on the call button.

Lucas picked up, but his voice was cold from the first second.

He did not give her the warmth she wanted. He did not sound curious. He sounded careful, distant, and faintly irritated, like a man who had already dealt with too many messy approaches connected to Durnik.

"I’m not interested in knowing you," he said. "Why are you contacting me?"

Lena heard the distrust immediately.

He was protecting himself. In her position, she would have done the same. To him, this could easily be another trap.

"I was his personal assistant," she said carefully. "I worked directly under him."

"That doesn’t make you useful," Lucas replied. "It makes you suspicious."

The bluntness landed hard, but she did not snap back.

"I’m not calling to waste your time," she said. "If you want to get back at Durnik, I’m the only one who can help you do it properly."

"You sound very confident for a stranger."

"Because I know what I’m talking about." Her voice stayed low, controlled, almost pleading now. "I handled things around him that most people in that company never touched. Private routines. Private contacts. The kind of access nobody gets unless they’re close enough to be ignored as furniture."

Lucas did not answer at once.

Lena pressed into the silence before it could harden into rejection. "I know you don’t trust me. You shouldn’t, not yet. But at least meet me. Let me explain face to face. If I’m lying, you walk away. If I’m not, you’ll understand why I contacted you."

"And why should I believe any of this?"

"Because if I wanted to protect him, I wouldn’t be calling the one man he can’t control," she said. "Please. Just hear me out in person."

There was another pause, longer this time.

Lucas still sounded cold when he spoke. "People tied to Durnik always want something."

"I’m not asking you for money," Lena said quickly. "I’m not asking you for protection either. I’m asking for a meeting. That’s all. If you want Durnik hit where it actually hurts, you need someone who knows how he moves from the inside. That’s me."

"You’re asking for a lot of trust on a first call."

"I’m begging for a chance," she corrected, softer now. "Not trust. Not yet. Just a chance to show you I can help."

The line stayed quiet enough that she could hear her own pulse in her ears.

Then she pushed one last time.

"Are you not free now?"

That made him go still.

"Now?"

"Yes. Now." Lena tightened her grip on the phone. "It’s important. And it’s to your advantage. If you wait too long, the opening won’t look like this again."

Another short silence followed, heavier than the first.

Lucas still did not sound warm. He sounded like a man making a controlled decision against his own suspicion.

"Okay," he said at last. "I’ll send you a location."

Lena’s mouth curved into a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "You won’t waste the meeting."

She started packing at once.

No hesitation. No careful glances. No attempt to look normal. Lena pulled the drawers open hard enough to make them rattle and started throwing her things into her bag like the job had already died in front of her. Files first. Then a makeup pouch. A spare pair of shoes from under the desk. A charger twisted around itself. Anything that still belonged to her disappeared into the bag with sharp, restless movements.

A pen rolled off the table and hit the floor.

She did not pick it up.

If they wanted to fire her for walking out during office hours, they could. She no longer cared. That building had already taken enough from her ~ her time, her pride, her body, and the stupid belief that enduring Durnik would eventually pay off.

Behind her, the other receptionist finally found the courage to speak.

"Lena... where are you going? If someone asks~"

Lena capped her lipstick, dragged it across her mouth once, and checked her reflection in the black screen of the monitor. The smile that stared back at her looked nothing like a woman trying to keep her job.

"Then tell them I left," she said.

"That’s it?"

"That’s it."

The girl stared at her like she was watching someone step off a ledge. A couple of other staff members had started pretending not to watch while clearly watching. From morning until now, Lena had been cold to almost everyone ~ short answers, no small talk, no attempt to soften what had happened to her. People had already begun avoiding her desk like humiliation might be contagious.

Now she was leaving in the middle of the day with a bag on her shoulder and fresh lipstick on, and she still did not explain a thing.

She zipped the bag shut, slung it over her arm, and walked out without looking back.

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