The new intern had a pathological need to pry. On Valentine's Day, my husband dropped a million dollars on a handbag at the luxury boutique where I work, just to boost my sales numbers. Later that night, as I was on a date with him, a passive-aggressive message from the new intern buzzed on my phone. “Our work app shows you just logged another thousand steps. That’s the exact distance to the hotel next door.” “Wow, Lily, you really work fast. Close a million-dollar deal and head straight to a hotel room with the client?” My face went cold. I typed back a sharp reply. “With your talent for sniffing out people’s business, you should’ve been a police dog.” That night, I came home to find my doorstep covered in funeral wreaths. It was all because of a post the intern had made. It had gone viral. [The Salesgirl Who Slept Her Way to My Million-Dollar Commission!] A pair of my snagged stockings, which I’d thrown in the trash, had become her “proof” that I seduced clients on the job. The entire internet pitied the intern. I became the "slutty salesgirl" everyone was cursing. What she didn’t know was that my husband is a tech titan worth billions, and for me, this job was just a way to kill time. 1 “Oh, Lily, buying a plane ticket? Planning a little getaway?” “It’s Valentine’s Day today. Are you and your boyfriend taking a trip tomorrow?” I’d just arrived at the boutique when Vivian, the new intern, cornered me in the staff lounge. Her question caught me off guard. I had, in fact, booked a flight for my husband that morning. Without thinking, I answered, “Yeah, I did. How did you know?” A smug look flashed across her face. “Your frequent flyer app. It showed an update—211 eco-points for skipping the in-flight meal.” Before I could even process that, she finished touching up her makeup and breezed out of the lounge. A chill ran down my spine. What was wrong with this girl? Frowning, I opened the app and immediately blocked her account. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and the more I thought about it, the more unnerved I became. A couple of weeks ago, I bought a new car and ordered a custom air freshener for it on Amazon. That very evening, she waited for me in the mall’s underground parking garage. “Hey! I had no idea you got a new car, Lily!” she’d chirped, beaming with pride. “I saw the air freshener in your order history and figured it out. Since you’re driving, can you give me a ride home? It’s on your way.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I agreed. It was not on my way. I spent nearly an hour stuck in traffic on the freeway, driving ten miles out of my way to drop her off. After that incident, I locked down all my social media accounts and even created a separate filter for her on my private photo streams. I shook my head and sent a quick text to my husband, venting my frustration. It was Valentine's Day, and business at the high-end boutiques was booming. I’d been closing sales all day, many of them from friends and my husband's business partners who specifically requested me. By the end of my shift, my sales were already approaching the million-dollar mark. Vivian, on the other hand, had a revolving door of customers who came and left empty-handed. Her sales were dismal. After ringing up another hundred-thousand-dollar purchase, I was heading to the lounge for a break when I saw her clutching a new limited-edition silk scarf, her knuckles white as if she wanted to tear it to shreds. Her eyes, glinting with envy, fixed on me. "You're so lucky, Lily," she said, her voice tight with resentment. "You've made a month's commission in a single day." I gave her a polite, dismissive smile and said nothing. Just then, as it was her turn to take the next walk-in client, my husband stepped into the boutique. “I’m here to see Lily,” he said. My colleagues barely batted an eye; it was common for clients to have a preferred sales associate. I’d never shared any details about my personal life at work. No one even knew I was married, let alone that my husband was a giant in the tech world. So, of course, they didn’t recognize him. But that small moment was all it took to show me the truly dark side of the workplace. “Lily,” Vivian hissed, grabbing my wrist. Her voice was pure saccharine poison. “It’s my turn to take a client, and you’ve hit your numbers for the day. Why don’t you let me have this one?” I winced, pulling my arm away. A patch of angry red skin was already forming where her nails had dug into my wrist, nearly breaking the skin. “Vivian, you can speak to me without grabbing me.” She just rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I barely touched you. Don’t be so dramatic.” “Just let me have this client, Lily.” I met her gaze, my voice turning to ice. “No.” My husband, seeing my dark expression, simply handed me his VIP card, and I led him into the private viewing room. 2 “What’s wrong? Did your colleague bother you again?” “That girl, Vivian… she’s just so unbelievably weird. I can’t stand her.” I sighed, and as I turned, I brushed against a display cart. A sharp hiss echoed in the quiet room as my stocking caught on the corner, tearing a long run up my leg. “Alright, don’t be angry. It’s Valentine’s Day,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. To cheer me up, he gestured to a rare leather handbag that had just arrived. A million-dollar bag. He bought it without a second thought, and neither of us thought much of it. My closet at home was already overflowing with them. But the moment my husband left with the bag, Vivian stormed up to me, jabbing a finger in my face. “Lily! You have to give me that million-dollar sale!” “That commission was supposed to be mine! If you don’t give it to me, I’m reporting you to corporate for stealing my clients and workplace bullying!” Her outburst was so absurd I almost laughed. “And which one of your eyes saw me steal your client?” “If you’re having a psychotic break, go to a hospital. Don’t have it here.” A few of my colleagues, with whom I had a good relationship, saw I was genuinely angry and stepped in. “That’s enough, Vivian! The client specifically asked for Lily.” “He always asks for Lily when he comes in. Just drop it.” They held Vivian back as her face flushed a furious red. If looks could kill, she would have devoured me whole, all traces of her usual innocent facade gone. “You… you just wait!” she spat. Perfect. I loved seeing her seethe, completely powerless. “Instead of wasting energy trying to poach my sales,” I said coolly, “you might want to spend some time actually learning the product catalog. You couldn't even tell half a dozen clients today whether we had their items in stock. If I were you, I’d be hiding my face in shame.” “Oh, wait, I forgot,” I added, unable to resist one last jab. “You’re too busy prying into everyone’s private lives to bother with professional knowledge.” Finally, the anger that had been simmering inside me all day was released. She pointed a trembling finger at me, so furious she was practically vibrating. I didn’t give her another glance. I walked into the staff lounge, changed out of the ruined stockings, and tossed them into the trash. That evening, my husband had booked a candlelight dinner for us at the five-star hotel right next to the mall. After my shift, I took a short, pleasant stroll over. I’d barely settled in at our table when two new messages popped up on my phone. 「Our work app shows you just logged another thousand steps. That’s the exact distance to the hotel next door.」 「Wow, Lily, you really work fast. Close a million-dollar deal and head straight to a hotel room with the client?」 The steak in my mouth turned to ash. I picked up my phone, my face a mask of ice, and shot back a reply. 「With your talent for sniffing out people’s business, you should’ve been a police dog.」 Then I blocked her. I’d taken this job to experience life, not to be harassed. If she wanted to burn bridges, fine. I had no reason to keep someone like her in my contacts. After dinner, my husband and I went to a movie. When we finally drove home, a massive ‘surprise’ was waiting for us. Our front door was surrounded by funeral wreaths. More were arriving, delivered by couriers who were assembling them right on our lawn. My heart hammered against my ribs; I thought I was going to have a stroke. The scene was so outrageous that even my husband, a man of unshakable composure, couldn't stay calm. He was on the phone with building security in an instant. “What the hell is going on with your package screening process!” The security manager rushed over, wiping sweat from his brow. “Mr. Grant… we honestly had no idea they were funeral wreaths…” “The delivery orders just said they were Valentine’s bouquets that required on-site assembly…” 3 I stared at the banners draped over the wreaths. 「MAY THE ‘SALES SLUT’ REST IN PEACE!」 「GO TO HELL, YOU WRETCH!」 「PAYBACK’S A BITCH, AND IT’S HERE.」 … I knew, with a gut-wrenching certainty, that Vivian was behind this. I quickly pulled out my phone and found the social media account she used to promote her sales. And there it was. A post she’d made three hours ago. [The Salesgirl Who Slept Her Way to My Million-Dollar Commission!] The post was explosive. In just a few hours, it had amassed over a hundred thousand likes. The content was even more insane. It was a meticulously crafted narrative complete with photos, a timeline, and Vivian’s own twisted, Sherlock Holmes-style analysis. The top image was a photo of the snagged stockings I’d thrown away. [After stealing my client, she took him into the private VIP room. When she came out, her stockings were torn. Right after he paid, she followed him to a hotel to finish the job…] I scrolled down to the comments and felt the blood drain from my face. The internet mob was tearing me to shreds. 「WTF! It’s 2025 and scum like this still exists? Bullying new hires and stealing their sales!」 「I feel so bad for the author. I hope this evil old witch gets hit by a bus!」 「I can’t take it anymore. Someone needs to dox this trash! I’m going to serve some justice tonight and expose this homewrecking whore!」 「Guys, my buddy’s a hacker. He got her info. Here’s her home address…」 「Replying to @HackerGod: Sending you a DM! I want to send a wreath!」 … Reading through the comments, a wave of cold fear washed over me. She had spun an entire ‘truth’ from a pair of snagged stockings I’d thrown in the trash. If the man in that room hadn’t been my own husband, I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself even if I had ten mouths. The entire post was a diatribe accusing me of sleeping my way to the top, of bullying a new intern, and of stealing her commission. To paint me as a serial offender, she’d even dug up old vacation photos from my overseas social media accounts—pictures from trips I’d taken months ago. There was a casual shot of my husband and me holding hands in a first-class cabin. That photo had ignited a whole new firestorm in the comments. 「This old hag is just an international call girl who sleeps around on trips!」 「I’m done. Wreaths aren't enough. I’m reporting her to her company’s corporate office. They need to fire this prostitute!」 … The comments made me so angry I could barely breathe. Even my husband’s face was a thundercloud of fury. “We’re calling the police.” “Don’t be afraid, Lily. I’m getting our lawyer on the line right now.” I couldn’t believe Vivian’s obsession was so strong she’d even managed to find my private accounts on foreign social media platforms. Thank God I only ever posted travel photos and never a single picture showing my husband’s face. Otherwise, she would have uncovered my real identity long ago. Our lawyer immediately began compiling a chain of evidence for the cyberbullying case. I opened my company’s work app and saw that Vivian had posted in the main corporate group chat, using her real name. 「A senior employee stole an intern’s million-dollar commission. How does the company plan to handle this?! @everyone」 The group, which had been buzzing with sales reports just a moment before, fell dead silent. Vivian wasn’t done. 「Don’t play dead! I have proof that this sales associate seduces clients during work hours and sleeps with them for sales! @everyone」 She was making all this noise, all based on a picture of stockings from a trash can. My hands clenched around my phone as I forced myself to stay calm. I typed out a reply. 「First of all, the client was a VIP who specifically requested me. There was no ‘stealing’ of your commission.」 4 「Secondly, you used a photo of torn stockings to launch a nationwide smear campaign, accusing me of sleeping with clients, and then led an online mob to dox me and leak my private information. I have already reported this to the police, and my lawyer is involved.」 My firm response prompted a few others in the group to speak up for me. 「A VIP client has a preferred associate. How is that stealing a sale? That’s ridiculous!」 「These interns these days have some nerve. I just pulled up your sales records, Vivian. You’ve been here two months and haven’t even cleared half a million in total sales. What exactly are you whining about?」 「Lily is the top seller in the entire region. She has nothing to hide. You, on the other hand, should get ready for a lawsuit and a police investigation.」 For the next half hour, Vivian was silent in the group. I thought she had finally backed down. I was wrong. She took screenshots of our internal company chat and posted them online for everyone to see. [The Slutty Salesgirl Who Stole My Commission Is Now Threatening to Sue Me!] The post was filled with images of our private conversation. I stared at the screen, a new wave of anger rising. Our employment contracts had a strict, legally binding clause against leaking internal company communications. She was truly asking for it. But the internet mob, now being used as her weapon, exploded. Within minutes, all of our brand’s official social media accounts were under siege from a massive wave of online attacks. By the time our corporate legal department could react, the entire internet was calling for a boycott of our brand. At that moment, my personal cell phone rang. It was an unknown number. “Lily, how do you like it? My little Valentine’s gift for you?” Vivian’s voice, dripping with triumphant malice, crackled through the phone. The sound of it was so repulsive it made me want to vomit. I fought back the nausea and replied with cold contempt. “Calling you a police dog is an insult to dogs. You’re nothing but a sewer rat.” A cold laugh answered me. “Tch!” “Don’t even try to scare me with your lawyers. The police can’t help you either. You’re the public enemy right now, the slut the entire internet wants to see burn.” “Oh, by the way,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I found some information on your VIP client. You’re finished! The man you seduced today is the billionaire CEO of a major tech company!” “And he has a wife! What do you think will happen if I give his dear wife a little call? Don’t blame me when she has you beaten to a pulp.” “Give me all of your commission from this month—all thirteen million of it—and I might consider letting you off the hook.” A cold smile touched my lips. “Go on then. Call her.” Her frustration was palpable. “I have proof you went to the hotel! You just wait!” And she did it. Vivian used the client’s number to call my personal phone. The line rang—ring, ring, ring. I answered it myself. “This is she,” I said calmly. “Vivian, is there anything else you want to say? I’ve already forwarded all your fabricated evidence to the police.”
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