Quitting My Toxic Boss

Vaughn ordered me to drop off a box of ultrathins for him again. My mom caught me holding the package.

She froze. "I'll take them to him." "I had you at forty," she said. "There is no such thing as loving you too much. I refuse to watch you degrade yourself like this.

I will deliver them." Something in my chest simply snapped shut. That was the exact second I decided to cut Vaughn out of my life for good. Later, people started whispering.

They couldn't understand why I stopped orbiting him like a pathetic satellite. When someone finally cornered me and asked why, I stared at the floor for a long time.

I just pressed my lips into a thin line. "It would break my mom's heart." Chapter 1 Vaughn booked a hotel room and forgot his ultrathins. Again.

The notification hit my phone at eleven at night. I was in the shower, and my mom saw it. The air in the living room felt thick enough to choke on when I walked out.

My phone screen glared from the coffee table, illuminating the incoming message. [ Sierra likes the strawberry ones.

Get them to me in thirty minutes. ] My mom didn't read English well. But he had sent a voice memo.

He was probably still pissed that I had supposedly stolen Sierra's account last week, so he made sure his tone was deliberately vulgar. The silence stretched.

Mom stared down at her lap.

She stayed like that for a long time before she finally looked up. "If this is the boy you love, I will deliver them." "I had you at forty," she said quietly. "There is no such thing as loving you too much.

I refuse to watch you degrade yourself for him. I will go." The living room lights were dim, but the silver threads at the crown of her head caught the glare of the screen.

I had loved Vaughn since high school. I followed him to college in New York. After graduation, I took a highpaying job at his family's firm.

He treated me well enough—he bought me birthday gifts and signed my massive paychecks.

When a client gave me a hard time during my first week, Vaughn made sure the guy was at my desk apologizing the very next morning. People got jealous.

They'd whisper right in front of me, making sure I heard. "Nepo hires get all the perks. She's just auditioning to be the future Mrs.

Vaughn." A pathetic part of me had actually believed them. Women cycled in and out of his life. When he needed something, I fetched it.

When he was bored, I took his company credit card and paid them off to disappear. But Sierra was different. She lasted the longest.

Vaughn loved her enough to start dropping hints about a ring. I had spent years trailing after him, eating dirt just to stay in his orbit.

But right now, staring at the grey hair on my mother's head, the spell broke. "I'm done with him." I looked at my mom. Then I picked up my phone and blocked Vaughn's number.

An incoming call flashed on the screen a second later.

He was calling from a different line. "What the hell is this?" His voice was loose, lazy. "Now isn't the time to throw a tantrum, Piper.

I'm waiting on those." A pause. "Oh, and when you get here, make sure you apologize to Sierra to her face." The apology.

I had closed a massive account, but Sierra immediately claimed I poached her client. One tear slipped down the girl's cheek, and Vaughn lost his mind.

He docked two months of my pay, fired my entire department, and transferred me to a deadend desk. Six months of my blood and sweat went straight down the drain.

When I confronted him about it, he just laughed. "You only got this job because of me, Piper.

What's there to be upset about?" He leaned back in his leather chair. "And as for your team?

If they actually had any talent, they wouldn't have been working under you in the first place." It had been days, but the memory still made my throat close up.

My lungs stopped pulling in air. I dug my fingernails into my palms until the skin nearly broke, trying to ground myself against the crushing humiliation.

I stared at the floor. "I am not apologizing to her. If she's that upset, fire me." The line went dead silent. Then came that same careless laugh, sharp and clipped. "Fine.

If you can actually walk away." I didn't know if he meant the job, or him. I chased Vaughn for ten years. Anyone with eyes knew I was pathetic for him.

He transferred to my high school during our senior year. He had come down from the city, probably dodging some residency requirement for his Ivy League apps. Old money. Untouchable.

That was everyone's first impression of him. And that same year, I was at the absolute lowest point of my life. Chapter 2 Back then, my face was a warzone of cystic acne.

I was antisocial, prickly, and practically radiated poverty.

We rented a cramped basement apartment where the sun never reached, and my clothes permanently smelled like damp mildew and cheap frying oil.

I was the absolute bottom of the high school food chain. But Vaughn voluntarily took the empty desk next to mine. Maybe it was pity. Maybe he was just bored.

He'd walk me through AP Calc problems my brain simply refused to process, tapping his pencil against the desk before dropping a casual, "You know, you're actually incredibly smart." When the mean girls whispered about me loud enough to hear, he'd just slide one of his AirPods across the desk.

It was never music playing. It was always some obscure, angry standup comedian screaming through the tiny speaker, "People like that are begging for a lightning strike!

Drop dead, the lot of you!" When I sat in the cafeteria chugging tap water to save five bucks on lunch, he quietly loaded two grand onto my student meal card.

He didn't even look up from his phone when he did it. "It's the price of a hoodie, Piper. Pay me back when you're rich." At first, the charity made my skin crawl.

I was terrified I didn't deserve it. But eventually, the delusional part of my brain took over.

I convinced myself that the universe knew I had drawn a garbage hand in life, and Vaughn was my designated cosmic apology. After that, we became inseparable.

Senior year of college rolled around, and the job hunt started. The internet loved to remind us that the best jobs were gatekept by bloodlines and frat brothers.

I swallowed down a bitter lump in my throat and muttered something about it to him. He just stayed quiet for a beat.

He popped the collar of his jacket, raising a single brow. "I'm your connection. Come work for me." He was my best friend. Of course I fell for him.

It was a humiliating secret I kept locked behind my teeth. But maybe I leaked it from my pores. Or maybe a guy like Vaughn just inherently knows when he owns someone.

Late one night, my phone buzzed. "Piper, emergency. I just met a girl, total love at first sight. But I'm out of supplies.

Think you could drop some off?" The white noise in my head dialed up to a deafening roar. All the moisture vanished from my throat, leaving behind dry sandpaper.

I gripped the phone until my knuckles ached. "Why me?" I finally forced out. A low chuckle vibrated through the receiver. "You're my best friend.

Who else am I going to ask?" Then, his tone dropped. "You're coming, right?" It was a meticulously calculated boundary line.

He was drawing it in the sand, ordering me to pack up my pathetic crush and swallow it.

If I had cursed him out and hung up, we would have stayed firmly on the platonic side of that line. We would have just been friends.

Instead, my hand moved on its own, grabbing my keys off the counter. The rain that night was biblical.

The city's drainage systems choked, sending muddy water rushing halfway up my calves.

My brain must have triggered some kind of amnesiac defense mechanism, because the actual handoff is a blur.

I don't remember handing him the plastic bag under his heavy, unreadable gaze. I don't remember walking back out into the hallway.

I only remember the girl's muffled voice drifting from the hotel bed. "Who was that?" Vaughn scoffed. "Just a subordinate." "Wow.

Corporate America really owns you guys, huh." The subways were flooded and shut down. The torrential downpour made getting an Uber physically impossible.

I had rushed out without my ID, completely locking me out of booking my own room to wait out the storm. I had to walk.

I dragged my soaked, freezing limbs block after block through the dark. The New York wind whipped off the Hudson, slicing into my exposed cheeks like a serrated blade.

I couldn't feel my fingers. I couldn't feel my toes. It took three hours of mechanical, agonizing steps to reach my front door.

My temperature spiked to 104 the second I peeled off my wet clothes. The fever cooked my brain.

A massive ear infection settled deep into my canals, leaving me with a hollow, persistent ringing. That was the exact same day my mom called. She said she missed me.

She said she wanted to pack up and move to the city to stay with me. The present crashed back into focus.

Through the phone still pressed to my ear, Vaughn's voice drifted through the receiver.

It carried that exact same careless, absolute certainty from years ago. "You're coming, right?" Chapter 3 I didn't answer. I just hit the red button. I wasn't going. Not tonight.

Not ever again. The rain outside battered against the windows, a relentless drumming that triggered the familiar, phantom ache deep in my ear canals.

The pain spiked, shooting up into my scalp like raw electricity. I dug the heels of my hands into my temples. Mom just stood there. Her hands fluttered uselessly by her sides.

These past few years in New York hadn't been kind to her.

She moved through my apartment like she was walking on eggshells, constantly eaten alive by the guilt that she couldn't bankroll my career or hand me a trust fund.

So, while I paid her bills, she had somehow trained herself to read my microexpressions just to figure out how to act in her own home. It was completely backwards.

I forced my shoulders to drop, pasting on a dismissive smile. "Don't worry about me. That's not the guy I like.

He's just my ruthless capitalist boss." I waved a hand. "You know how toxic the corporate culture is here.

I have friends who literally have to babysit their boss's kids after clocking out." She didn't say a word. The tight lines around her mouth didn't smooth out.

I knew she wasn't buying it. I had clawed my way up the corporate ladder for years. Even the senior partners tiptoed around me now; nobody treated me like an errand girl anymore.

But the exhaustion settled heavy in my bones, and I physically didn't have the breath left to spin another lie. When I was in school, I used to tell her everything.

What I ate for lunch, who said what in homeroom, every tiny, insignificant detail.

But during the decade I spent chasing Vaughn, an invisible glass wall had slid into place between us. I couldn't crack my chest open for her anymore.

I didn't even know how to start. I kept my voice soft. "Seriously, Mom, don't worry. I've been wanting to quit that place anyway." I pointed toward the hallway. "It's late.

Let's just go to sleep." I turned around. Behind me, a thick, choked sob broke the silence. "But I have to worry." Her voice cracked. "I went to your office to see you.

I saw the way he was treating you." The pounding in my skull amplified.

I couldn't even filter through the memories to figure out which time she meant. "I went to him," she whispered. "I just wanted to ask him to be a little nicer to you.

But he told me you only got your foot in the door because of him.

He said you've achieved things most people can't even touch, so taking a little abuse is a blessing." "He said it's a good thing you're smart." A shaky breath. "But he said having me for a mother… it just makes you unlucky." Quitting required jumping through corporate hoops.

When I walked onto the floor the next morning, I found Sierra already sitting at my desk.

She looked up and flashed a perfectly entitled smile. "I literally just shed two tears, and Vaughn handed me your job. He said I'm his favorite little trophy." I didn't flinch.

I just looked down at her. "Isn't Vaughn completely obsessed with you?

Aren't you two picking out rings?" I tilted my head. "So why are you bragging about being a kept woman?" I crossed my arms. "What?

Are you just that used to playing the side piece?" "Don't you look down on me!" Her perfectly manicured facade cracked.

Her young face twisted into something ugly. "You don't even know what Vaughn says about you behind your back." "He said you're a manipulative climber.

He said your work is garbage and he's been looking for an excuse to kick you out for months!" She stood up, planting her hands on my desk. "Don't act like this is unfair." "The most capable person always comes out on top." She leaned in. "Whether it's in the office, or in his bed." She had started off keeping her voice low, but the anger hijacked her volume control.

Her voice echoed across the openplan office. She practically shrieked the word bed. Chapter 4 Vaughn's family firm ran on a toxic grind.

Most days, people barely had time to swallow a sip of water. But right now, the entire floor had stopped typing. Dozens of eyes locked onto us. The silence felt heavy and damp.

Sierra noticed the staring. An ugly red flush crept up her neck. It reminded me of the day Vaughn first picked her up—she had that same startleddeer routine down to a science.

Her playbook was pathetic, completely brainless meangirl tactics.

I spent half my time wondering exactly which day Vaughn was going to toss me the company Amex to pay off her parting gift. Vaughn had the attention span of a gnat.

He craved shiny new toys, and his revolving door of women never stopped spinning. Any inch of skin visible above his collar was usually bruised with fresh hickeys.

Maybe she really was his endgame. Even now, looking at her, I couldn't figure out the appeal. Sierra clamped her jaw shut.

She snatched the heavy steel thermos off the desk, winding up to hurl it right at my face. But she forgot she was strapped into fourinch stilettos and a skintight pencil skirt.

Back when Vaughn was still fighting for his throne at the firm, I took the hit on all the sleazy client dinners. I spent years shoved into thighhigh slits and agonizing heels.

I hated every second of it. The minute I got promoted and tasted real power, I nuked the dress code. Pantsuits for meetings, business casual for the daily grind.

The restrictive fabric hobbled her swing. I snatched the steel thermos right out of her hand without breaking a sweat. I wound my arm back and swung it fullforce at her face.

The metal stopped exactly two inches from her nose. Her pupils dilated in absolute terror. I just smiled. "Back off. That's my cup." "Piper.

I didn't know you had it in you." A low scoff echoed from behind me. I turned. Vaughn stood there, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. Sierra snapped out of her shock.

The waterworks started instantly. "She's completely unhinged!

She just tried to attack me!" "Stop crying." Vaughn didn't even look at me. "Go ahead and hit her back." Sierra wiped her eyes.

A nasty smirk replaced her tears as she marched right up to my face, raising her hand to slap me. My heart rate didn't even spike.

I still didn't understand how my ten years of loyalty translated into this. Love had completely rotted his brain.

He was actually using me as a disposable punching bag just to earn brownie points with his flavor of the month. I adjusted my grip on the heavy steel. The thermos didn't hit Sierra.

I launched it straight into Vaughn's face. Sierra lunged forward, pressing her hands over Vaughn's bleeding face. "Are you out of your psychotic mind