I grabbed my things and brushed past her shoulder toward the door.

A hand caught my collar from behind and yanked me back.

She blocked my path.

"Leave the money and then you can take your junk and get out!"

I looked her dead in the eyes.

"The gift card is in President Fox's office. I didn't take it."

Virginia let out a cold laugh.

"I'm not talking about that one card. Every gift card, every gift you've taken since the day you set foot in this bank—you're giving back all of it. Every last cent."

The others ate it up—Virginia's little power trip had them nodding along, thumbs-up behind my back.

I was silent for a few seconds.

Everyone watched me clench my jaw and figured I was about to lunge at her.

After all, in their minds, a nobody like me who'd never had real money must have spent it all long ago. No way I could pay anything back.

But I pulled out my phone, unhurried, and transferred three million to the bank's account.

Didn't even blink.

I held up the payment screenshot. "Three years at this bank. The gifts never hit eight hundred thousand in any single year. That's three million. Is that enough, or do you need more?"

I didn't wait around for their shock.

I didn't turn around for Virginia's screaming behind me that I must have embezzled bank funds.

I slowed as I passed Nelson Fox's office, my eyes catching the nameplate on the wall—President's Office. Three years ago his bank had barely any business. It was on the verge of collapse.

Now it was the largest private bank in the city, and I was the one who'd put him there.

"President Fox, Tracey is our biggest client. Out of the bank's two hundred and thirty million in deposits, she alone accounts for two hundred million!"

"You're letting her walk out? You're burning that bridge on purpose?"

I was about to move on when I heard Manager Lambert's exasperated challenge.

Nelson's answer was nothing but impatience.

"All she does is keep her money in our bank. She didn't hand it to me."

"I pay her two million a year in interest!"

"And the gifts your purchasing department sends her every year are worth close to a million. Whose money do you think that is? It's mine."

Greg let out a heavy sigh.

"President Fox, that's not how the math works. The bank's entire operation runs on Tracey's two hundred million. Without her there's no way we turn a profit. If she—"

"There is no 'if'!"

Nelson slammed his palm on the desk.