The air crackled with tension in the conference room. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat mirroring the cold fury in the eyes of the senior managers. We had come too far, and unearthed too much. Our investigation, sanctioned by the board, had exposed a massive network of fraud within the distribution arm of the company. It was a web of deceit, spanning years, with countless distributors siphoning off profits, while our managers turned a blind eye.
The evidence was overwhelming: forged invoices, falsified sales figures, kickbacks disguised as marketing expenses and trade discounts. We had handed over the findings to the police, and the story had exploded in the media. The public was outraged, the company’s stock plummeted, and the board was demanding heads.
But the repercussions were far more insidious. Whispers began to circulate, veiled threats muttered in hushed tones. My phone buzzed with anonymous calls, the voice a distorted, menacing whisper. My every move felt scrutinized, shadowed by unseen eyes.
Then came the call that shattered my world. The voice, the same chilling monotone, spoke my daughter’s name, her age, even the name of her preschool. ‘You’re messing with the wrong people,’ it rasped. ‘And your little girl will pay the price.’
Fear, icy and sharp, gripped me. My daughter, my four-year-old, the light of my life, was being targeted because of my work. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her in harm’s way. Fear gripped me only momentarily, as I chose to stand, albeit quietly and review where all this was coming from. My demeanour changed and so did my circle of contacts in the organisation.
Two highly placed managers implied that the Operations Director, his assistant and the Managing Director were all involved. They offered evidence to show they were the people who had interviewed and signed up the distributors. Some of them had shares in the siphoning dens and still had their contacts as new casual staff within company depots. It was a smooth operation, spanning almost 30 years.
Weeks later, I resigned and walked to the HR offices with a checklist of items to return, including the company car, laptop and handover documents. It took almost four hours for them to acknowledge my resignation and receive the items. When they did, I packed up an hour early and walked out with my head high, leaving the nightmares and betrayal behind.
Short Stories & Poems by WarmBreezeBliss 