Valentina had always believed that if the day ever came when she was dragged in front of the entire office—every pair of eyes fixed on her body, her dignity reduced to whatever spilled out of her overturned handbag—she'd be ready to defend herself.She was wrong.
Valentina—a beta—is a senior producer at Burnes Agency in Zurich, where alphas and omegas run the show:
Erick Hardmiers – CEO, alpha
Raffael Llochers – Business Director, alpha
Lorenzo Gallotti – Accounts Director, omega
Miguel Stumpf – Production Director, alpha
On her floor she also works with Alex (senior beta) and one intern.
Every August, the Christmas campaign turns the agency into a pressure cooker: shoots that were needed "yesterday," lightning-fast bids, locations that disappear within hours. Landing the perfect photographer or locking down the right billboards is a war fought in seconds.
Valentina keeps her distance from Accounts—nothing but omegas, masters of the patronizing stare—though she does have one regular contact there.
"Whoa, what's with the face? Haven't had breakfast?" she joked."Ha-ha-ha, you're hilarious," he shot back. "The neon lights for the Christmas board on the way to Ticino got axed.""But I adjusted the budget! I even offered extra projects to the suppliers.""Money isn't the issue.""Let me guess—the animals don't like the lights.""Exactly. The canton put a ban on them.""The budget says they're motion-activated.""Then you explain it to the client.""They won't even look at me. So what now?""No idea. They'll be back in a month.""They are going to take away our panel!""Out of my hands, Valentina."
At three p.m. another email lands: two more quotes—one photo shoot for a supermarket, plus a bank's Christmas campaign—both due tomorrow.
"Alex, I'll coordinate with the accounts Barbies, then you help me with the costs, okay? If I can't finish, I'll close the spreadsheet at the airport.""Another early morning, eh?" he grumbles, "and you know those in accounts never stay up past seven o'clock in the evening."
Valentina had requested Friday off five months ago; now everything is on fire.
Knock, knock.
"Come in.""Bischoff, did you check the quotes?""Yes, boss. But I fly out today—I flagged it five months ago.""Cancel it. I need those numbers.""Ticket's paid and I leave tonight.""Then pick one: trip or job," he laughs, "and copy me on everything."
She swallows rage and disgust. As she heads out she tells her team:
"No one's replacing me. Sorry, guys—pulling an all-nighter.""You're quitting?" Alex wails. "They're gonna kill us! I'm gonna diiiie! Actually, I'm already dead!"
With a tight chest, Valentina writes her resignation letter, backs up files, schedules tasks, and minutes before seven drops the envelope on Miguel's desk.
"You're resigning? Nobody hires betas in peak campaign season. You should be grateful I put food on your table," he sneers.
She smiles and walks away, but Miguel grabs her; she shakes him off.
The agency spans two floors: production, editing, design, and post on the second; Accounts and the exec offices on the first. Miguel chases her downstairs, shouting for security.
In the conference room they search her head to toe. Dump her bag. Inspect every item. The hallway buzzes with whispers. Biting her lip to hold back tears, Valentina repacks her things one by one—without trembling.
When she looks up, Erick and Raffael are there. Miguel seizes her arm again.
"Let go of me!""Thief!""What did I steal? Or does honest work scare you?"
Erick calls an immediate meeting. Valentina agrees—advertising is a small world, and if you don't know someone, someone knows you.
"I requested leave in advance. I can't cancel the trip. And we get pulverized here while others 'disconnect' for their biological cycles," she says."Betas are replaceable!" Miguel erupts."I know my rights. Either I come back to a fair deal or I wait for my severance," she answers.
Miguel lunges again; Valentina wrenches his wrist. Dead silence.
"We'll call you," Erick says, stone-faced. "Burnes respects every caste—we're all family here."
Expecting nothing, Valentina walks out without looking back.
Outside, Lucas waits—thirty-two, sky-tall beta, bronzed skin, incendiary smile—astride his motorcycle.
"Ready to meet some handsome Italians now that you're free?""Idiot, I just quit and you're thinking about—""Penis, penis, penis! Short but thick. Long but thick…""Yes, yes, yes, we know you like them thick!"
Valentina snaps on her helmet and slips a USB drive into her bra: eight years of contacts. She won't leave empty-handed.
The game has only just begun.
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GlossaryCanton – A territorial and political division of Switzerland, similar to a state, with autonomous laws.