My Boss Has Been Secretly Leaving Me Money Every Day

For three consecutive months, an extra five hundred dollars mysteriously appeared in my desk drawer. Attached to each stack of cash was the same brief note: “Overtime Pay.” The only problem? Our company didn’t offer overtime pay. It wasn’t until I finally checked the security camera footage that I uncovered the truth. Every single night, my boss was sneaking over to my desk and slipping cash into my drawer. Chapter 1 I only discovered the money in my drawer because the lock broke. That morning, I clocked in for work as usual. On a whim, I decided to check a drawer I hadn’t opened once since joining the company. But the second I turned the key, it snapped in the lock with a sharp clack. Emilia Foster from HR rushed over to help me replace the lock. She yanked hard, pulling the entire drawer clear out of the desk. The instant she flipped the drawer upside down, a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Both of us froze. “Wait... you keep cash at your desk?” Emilia asked, staring in shock. I shook my head, thoroughly confused. “Why on earth would I leave money at the office? That’s not mine.” She stooped down to pick up the bills, counting through the stack. Then she looked up at me, wide-eyed. “There’s forty-five thousand dollars here.” My mind went completely blank. My monthly salary was only six thousand dollars, and my bank balance rarely hit five figures. How could I possibly have over forty thousand dollars in cash tucked away in a desk drawer? More importantly, I had no clue when the money had been placed there in the first place. Emilia realized something was wrong too. “Could someone have put it in the wrong drawer by mistake?” That was my immediate thought as well. But on second thought, that made even less sense. Everyone in the company had assigned cubicles. I had been using this exact desk since my very first day on the job, and my seat had never been reassigned. There was no way someone else had just left it behind. That left only one possibility. Someone had deliberately put it there. The realization sent a chill down my spine. Seeing how pale I looked, Emilia suggested quietly, “Maybe we should call the police. That’s a huge amount of cash.” Twenty minutes later, officers from the local precinct arrived. After getting the details, they pulled up the office security camera footage from the past three months. The video fast-forwarded quickly. Every day showed the same routine footage: janitors, security guards, coworkers... Until the first unusual clip appeared. It was 7:40 AM. The office area was completely deserted. A man in a sleek black suit pushed open the glass door and walked in with a calm, unhurried stride. I recognized him in an instant. It was my boss, Damian Elijah Beaumont. Damian walked straight to my desk, paused, and glanced down at the employee ID card sitting on top. Once he confirmed it was my desk, he pulled five crisp hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet and slid them into my drawer. His actions were smooth and practiced, as if he had done it a thousand times. As the camera zoomed in, my employee ID came into view. The name Juliet Collins was printed clearly beneath my photo. After placing the cash inside, Damian even pushed the drawer back into place before turning to leave. The whole process took less than ten seconds. I stared at the screen, utterly stunned. The police officer paused the video and turned to me. “Do you know this man?” I nodded, my voice feeling light and unsteady. “Yes. “That’s my boss.” The officer hit play again. The next day. 7:40 AM once more. Damian appeared again. Same spot, same smooth motion, same five hundred dollars. The third day. The fourth day. The fifth day... Not a single day was missed from the time I was hired up to now. The more I watched, the more terrified I grew. Even the police officer couldn’t help but frown. “Miss Collins, what is your relationship with him?” I wore the same expression of utter shock as Emilia. “We don’t have one.” “Are you sure?” “Completely,” I replied with a strained smile. “I’ve only been with this company for three months. I don’t think I’ve said more than twenty words to him in total.” The officer fell silent. If he was a secret admirer, this was certainly a strange way to show it. Chapter 2 If it was a sugar daddy situation... Why would a boss leave a mere five hundred dollars a day? No matter how you looked at it, it didn’t make sense. By the time I finished taking my statement at the precinct, it was nearly noon. Carrying the forty-five thousand dollars in cash inside a paper bag, I headed straight back to the office. I decided to confront Damian directly. Regardless of his intentions, I couldn’t keep this money. When I arrived at the company, I skipped my cubicle and walked straight toward the far end of the floor, where the executive office was located. I reached the door, but before my hand could knock, voices drifted out from inside. It was his secretary, Caleb Morgan. He was reminding Damian, “Mr. Beaumont, have you put today’s money in yet?” My hand froze midair, and I strained my ears to catch Damian’s reply. Inside, silence held for a couple of seconds. Then Damian offered a low, “Mm.” Caleb hesitated for a moment before asking, “It’s been three months already. Are you still planning to keep this up?” Instinctively, I held my breath. A second later, Damian’s calm voice echoed through the door panel. “Let’s continue. “She’ll remember eventually.” My whole body went rigid, my mind racing out of control. Remember? Remember what? My grip on the paper bag tightened without me realizing it. Right then, the office door suddenly swung open from the inside. Damian walked out. Our eyes met. His gaze flicked down to the paper bag tucked in my arms, and a faint flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. I parted my lips. “Mr. Beaumont…” Yet he acted as if nothing had happened, asking with absolute composure, “Is there something you need?” Suddenly, I had no idea how to ask my question. I stood at the office door, continuing to exchange silent looks with Damian. The air hung quiet for a second or two. Tentatively, I held out the brown paper bag to him. He glanced down at the bag, looking completely unbothered—almost as if he had anticipated my arrival all along. “Come inside and talk,” he said in a calm tone. I followed him into the office. Caleb glanced at me before quietly making his exit and pulling the door shut behind him. The vast office was left with just the two of us. I placed the paper bag on his executive desk and spoke nervously. “Mr. Beaumont, this is your money. You left it with me and forgot to take it back.” He glanced down at it, making no move to take the bag. Instead, he responded in an entirely offhand tone. “Once it came out of your drawer, it became yours. It’s not mine.” I almost took the bait. That was a full forty-five thousand dollars—an amount that would take me seven or eight months of hard work to earn. If my inner sense of justice hadn’t prevailed over greed, I would have been as thrilled as if I’d won the lottery. Lowering my head, I waved my hands as I explained, “Mr. Beaumont, I’ve already checked the security footage. “Every morning at 7:40, you place five hundred dollars in my desk drawer. “For ninety full days, adding up to forty-five thousand dollars. “And now you’re telling me it isn’t yours? Are you trying to test me? This is definitely your money.” Flashes of corporate schemes I’d read about—where companies set up employees to fire them without severance—raced through my mind. Clarity hit me, followed by a wave of lingering fear. Looking at the cash now, it felt less like a windfall and more like a ticking time bomb. Damian fell silent for a few seconds before asking an unexpected question. “Did you count all the money?” I froze, my mind scrambling to catch up. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out the emotionally intelligent response I’d spent the entire ride back rehearsing with the help of an AI app. “I appreciate your generosity, Mr. Beaumont, but…” He let out a quiet, amused chuckle. Only then did I realize what had happened, and I burned with embarrassment, wishing a hole in the floor would swallow me whole. Recalling his question, I looked at him in total confusion. “Wait... what?” “Is the money all accounted for?” he repeated. “Not a single bill missing?” Chapter 3 I nodded. He let out a visible sigh of relief. “Good, that’s good.” I was completely speechless. “Mr. Beaumont, that’s not the point. “The point is, why are you giving me this money?” He raised his head and looked at me. His eyes were dark, concealing something I couldn’t quite read. After a long pause, he finally spoke, “Because I owe you.” I froze. “Owe me?” “Mm. I’ve owed you for many years.” My mind spun rapidly. I genuinely couldn’t recall ever meeting this multi-billionaire boss of mine. I let out an awkward laugh. “Mr. Beaumont, are you sure you haven’t mistaken me for someone else? I’m twenty-two years old, and I’ve lived in Oakhaven my entire life. “I came straight to work for this company right after graduating from college. We’ve never met before, have we?” He looked at me quietly and said, “We have.” My heart squeezed. “When?” Instead of answering, he pushed the bag of cash back in front of me. “Keep it. There will be more every day from now on.” I frowned, not daring to take it. “If you won’t give me a reason, I can’t and won’t accept it. To me, this isn’t a small sum of money.” “Then consider it your bonus.” “But the company doesn’t have a bonus policy like this.” “It does now.” His tone was indisputable, leaving me zero room for refusal. Right then, a knock sounded from outside the door. A moment later, Rachel Brooks walked in holding a stack of documents. “Mr. Beaumont, regarding the 2:00 PM meeting…” Mid-sentence, her eyes caught the visible cash peeking out of the paper bag on the desk, and she visibly froze. She darted a glance at Damian, then at me. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but hesitated. In the end, she said nothing and silently backed out of the room. In that instant, I became even more certain: she knew the reason. That afternoon, the internal company forum blew up. Someone had snapped a picture of me holding the bag as I walked out of the CEO’s office and posted it online. The headline read in bold letters: “SHOCKING! Cash Deal Caught Red-Handed in the CEO’s Office!” The comment section below refreshed rapidly: “What’s going on? What did I miss?” “Is Juliet Collins being sugar-babied? Is that actual cash in the bag she’s holding?” “No way, isn’t Mr. Beaumont famous for keeping his distance from women?” “Haven’t you guys noticed? She’s a new hire, but she became a permanent employee after just one month.” “The more you think about it, the scarier it gets. Our company has never had a precedent like that.” The more I read, the angrier I became. Just as I was about to close the page, an anonymous comment suddenly popped up: “If I were you, I’d resign immediately. “The more you know, the more dangerous it gets.” I stared at that line of text, feeling a sudden, inexplicable chill in my chest. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a text message from an unknown number. It contained only a single sentence: “Go to the Southside Children’s Home at seven tonight. You’ll find out why he’s giving you money.” The sender was unidentified. Instinctively, I dialed the number back, but the phone was already switched off. I stared at the text message on my phone for a long time, torn inside. In the end, curiosity won over reason, and I went to the place mentioned in the message. Before heading over, I searched for information online and found that the Southside Children’s Home had been abandoned for many years. Looking at the rusty iron gate and weathered walls in front of me, a wave of regret washed over my heart. Right then, a swing in the courtyard creaked loudly as it swayed in the wind. Feigning bravery, I pushed the iron gate open. If it hadn’t been clearly written on the news sites, I never would have believed that Damian had any connection to a place like this. Stepping inside, the courtyard was eerily quiet. There was only an elderly woman with silver hair watering flowers in the yard. Chapter 4 When she saw me, she froze. The watering can in her hand clattered to the ground with a loud clunk. “Juliet?” Instinctively, I took a step back. “Do you know me?” The old woman’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She rushed over, grasping my hand tightly. “Honey, you’re finally willing to come back.” I was completely bewildered. “Ma’am, have you mistaken me for someone else? This is my very first time here.” Yet the old woman kept shaking her head. “There’s no mistake. “When you were little, you loved hiding behind that sycamore tree over there. “Every time Damian couldn’t find you, he’d cry his eyes out.” I followed the direction of her finger. Sure enough, sitting in the corner of the courtyard was a massive sycamore tree. For reasons I couldn’t explain, the instant I laid eyes on that tree, a sharp, piercing pain throbbed through my head. It felt as though a memory was flashing past in a blur. A little boy and a little girl with pigtails were holding hands, speaking a sentence that sounded faint and distant: “Juliet, when I make money in the future, I’ll give you five hundred dollars every single day.” I clutched my temples tightly and squatted down from the sudden, intense pain. The old woman quickly helped support me. “What’s wrong, Juliet? Are you feeling unwell?” My face was pale, and I barely managed to steady myself. “I... I think I just remembered something.” Right then, a deep voice echoed from behind us. “Mrs. Evelyn Gable, please stop.” I turned around. Damian was standing at the entrance, though I had no idea when he’d arrived. He wore a sleek black shirt, his figure outlined by the fading evening light, leaving his expression hidden in the shadows. Mrs. Gable looked at him and let out a sigh. “How much longer are you planning to hide it from her?” Damian didn’t answer. He simply walked toward me, step by step. For the very first time, I noticed that this man—who always appeared cool and controlled at the office—was actually showing a hint of nervousness right now. He stopped in front of me. After a long silence, he spoke in a low voice, “I’m sorry.” I froze, looking at him in complete confusion. He raised his eyes to meet mine. “I failed to keep our promise.” Everything that had happened today felt so bizarre that I’d been in a daze the entire day. “What promise?” From his suit pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper, yellowed with age. The paper was so old it had turned brittle, its edges curling upward. He gently unfolded it and placed it before me. Written on it was the crooked handwriting of two young children: “When we grow up, Damian will give Juliet five hundred dollars every day. “Must keep giving it, no cheating.” In the bottom right corner were two tiny red handprints alongside two crookedly written signatures. One of them was my name. My head buzzed with a loud ping, and my heart rate accelerated violently. “This is…” Damian let out a faint chuckle. Yet behind that smile lay a bitterness I couldn’t quite fathom. “You forced me to write this when you were six years old. You said five hundred dollars was a huge amount of money, enough to buy tons of candy. “You also said that if we ever got separated, as long as I kept giving you five hundred dollars every day, you’d definitely recognize me.” A sudden warmth welled up in my eyes. For reasons unknown, I felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity with all of this, yet I couldn’t remember the details no matter how hard I tried. Lowering my head, I looked back at the piece of paper. Right then, I suddenly noticed something. Written on the back of the paper was a line of unfamiliar handwriting. It didn’t look like a child’s handwriting—it looked like an adult’s. It contained only a single sentence: “If Juliet ever recovers her memory, please do not tell her who died that year.” My breath hitched instantly, and I jerked my head up to look at Damian. “What does this mean?” Beside us, Mrs. Gable’s expression turned serious. And the faint smile on Damian’s face faded away, bit by bit.