The Privatization Of Everything

When Lisa from Human Resources informs me that I'm being laid off, she casually mentions one more thing. According to her, I'm not a company employee—I'm just a temporary contractor. I freeze for a moment before nearly bursting into laughter. After dedicating three years of my life to the company, I discover that I have no employment contract, non-compete agreement, or confidentiality clause. To make matters even better, I am the patent applicant for the company's core risk management system, which has generated over a hundred million dollars in revenue. I am also the original owner of the source code repository. The higher-ups tell me to pack up my things and leave that very day, while the director who got his position through connections slams his hand on the table. "You're nothing without this company," he declares. I look at him and almost feel sorry for him. After all these years, someone has finally reminded me of how much freedom I actually have. Alright then. I'll leave—but I'm taking everything I own with me.

“What are you doing?” I heave, my breath hitched in my throat as I watch him slowly unbuckling his belt. “What does it look like I'm doing?” He tosses his belt away and unzips his pants. “I'm taking what's mine.” I gasp loudly when my eyes meet his huge shaft and I clench the sheets, my body flushing warm. “But... you can't.” “I can and I will,” he counters, hovering above me and tracing patterns up my inner thigh until his fingers graze my slit. He lowers his face to mine, his breath hot against my skin. “You became mine the moment you signed the contract. I own you and every inch of your body. And I'll claim it all, starting now. Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” *** Rayne's wedding day turns to chaos when a pregnant woman storms in and reveals her fiancé, Henry is the father of her unborn child. Fed up with Henry's neverending betrayal, Rayne becomes vengeful and lets herself loose in the arms of a stranger—Liam Everhart, New York's most elusive billionaire hearthrob and her boss whom she's never met. When Henry finds out about her one night stand, he throws her out on the streets and cuts her off financially. Desperate, penniless and with her health on the line, Rayne is forced to accept Liam's unexpected offer—a contract marriage that will secure her financial future and give Liam an edge over his rival cousins for the control of the Everhart family empire. But Rayne soon realizes that Liam's proposal comes with a very steep price: her freedom, heart, soul and her peace of mind, all of which are threatened by the ruthless power struggle within the Everhart family.

“You sold your soul to me, Alicia. And I plan to enjoy every moment of owning you.” His fingers traced lower, pulling a gasp from her lips. She clawed at his shoulders. A dark, low laugh rumbled from him, thrilled by the sting. “Fight it all you want,” he murmured against her skin. “But we both know how this ends.” After losing her child, being betrayed by her husband, and barely surviving a brutal divorce, Alicia vowed to make everyone involved in her son's death burn to the ground. Now she returns as the soon-to-be wife of Theodor Winston—a ruthless CEO with secrets carved in his soul. Their marriage is nothing more than a one-month contract, signed in desperation to save her dying mother. But as the days tick by and buried secrets unravel, she finds herself torn between vengeance and an unexpected truth. When the contract ends, will she walk away from the only one who truly sees her… or return to the one who ruined her?

When I returned to the Costello family as the long-lost daughter, I was dressed in my adoptive sister's hand-me-downs, and the family driver came only for her. Still, they felt guilty toward the daughter they had raised in my absence. So when the government rolled out the Fairness System, they registered the whole family before I could blink. My father exhaled with relief. "With this system enforcing absolute equality, Brittany won't ever have to suffer again." My mother took my hand, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You came home and stole everything that belonged to her. That's not fair to Brittany." My brother didn't bother hiding his contempt. "I only acknowledge one sister. You already got more than you deserve. Don't push your luck." I ate leftovers while she had private chefs. I sweated in a closet while she slept in a custom-designed suite. I almost laughed. When the system went live, they were the ones who fell apart.

"Ms. Smith, a complaint has been filed with HR. You have been accused of misusing your personal vehicle for unauthorized commercial activity." The administrative manager dropped a printed copy of the so-called joint complaint onto the desk, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The company had decided to issue me a fine, placed a formal warning on my record, and revoked my performance bonus for this quarter. I stared at the handwriting on the complaint, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. I recognized it instantly. It was Selena Rogers. The same coworker who had been hitching rides with me to and from work every day for the past three years. It was all because of last night's storm. She had insisted I take a long detour to drive her to the mall so she could pick up her boyfriend, and I had said no. Then, in the break room, Selena's voice carried loud and clear. "Jennifer, I didn't have a choice. "We have to keep work and personal matters separate. The transportation stipend from the company isn't for you to make extra money." Around us, coworkers glanced over, whispering and pointing, as if they had completely forgotten how eager they once were to ask for a ride home. I took a slow breath. "Fine. I accept the company's decision." Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Wallace, I won't be renewing the lease on those two vans. "Yes. The ones that have been picking up and dropping off the admin and sales teams every day, free of charge." For three years, I had been the easygoing one, paying out of my own pocket every month to lease those vehicles so my coworkers could treat it as a perk. If that was now considered unauthorized business activity, then from this day on, everyone could figure out their own way to get to work.

I went to the bank to report a lost debit card. The teller casually asked, "Sir, there's a recurring patent royalty payment under your name. Would you like to link it to your new card?" Stunned, I froze. "What patent royalties?" The screen revealed that one of the accounts showed a quarterly deposit of $300 thousand in patent royalties. My mind went blank for a full three seconds. Then I remembered that, five years ago, my wife, Danica Pearson, had handed me a stack of documents, saying it was part of the company registration process. She said I "only understood technology, not business", effectively turning me into a figurehead consultant. I took a deep breath and told the teller, "Link it to the new card. From now on, transfer every payment directly to my personal account." That night, while Danica was overseas on a business trip, she booked the earliest flight home. At 2 a.m., she pounded on my bedroom door.