Wall Street Paytime -

“Yes, sir.”

They stepped into a smaller breakout room. Julian closed the door. “I’m going to tell you something off the record,” he said. “Victoria is using the European desk as cover. The real problem is that the whole credit market is about to seize up. We’ve got exposure to a dozen illiquid positions that are going to blow up in Q1. The bonus cut isn’t punishment. It’s survival.”

Victoria went on. “As a result, the bonus pool is being recalculated. Everyone’s payout will be reduced by 40%, effective immediately. Additionally, anyone whose bonus was below $500,000 will receive nothing this year. We will issue revised letters by 5:00 p.m.” wall street paytime

He showered, put on a fresh Charvet shirt, and knotted his tie with hands that didn’t tremble but wanted to. Outside, the December air bit hard, but he barely felt it. The walk from his apartment to the glass tower at 85 Broad Street was a ritual he’d performed a thousand times. Today, every step felt like a drumbeat.

Julian set the paper down. “Your bonus is $2.1 million.” “Yes, sir

“Fine,” Marcus lied.

Marcus sat. Julian finally turned, holding a single sheet of paper. “HR sends the numbers at nine. I get them first. Then I call you in one by one. You know the rules.” “Victoria is using the European desk as cover

The rest of the day passed in a blur of closed-door meetings, angry outbursts, and quiet resignations. By 4:00 p.m., three senior traders had already walked out. By 5:00, when the revised letters finally arrived, another five had given notice. The parking garage looked like an evacuation zone.

Julian smiled—not his thin smile, but a real one. “There’s a group at Soros Fund Management. They’re putting together a credit distressed desk. They’ve already called me. I told them I’d bring two VPs. One of them is you, if you want it.”