Nouvelles Bias Workplace & Romans

After I became pregnant, I gave up the biology research project I had devoted years to. Vanessa Basch, a student I had personally mentored, took over my work. Ever since then, Vanessa began showing up at my home more and more often. At the dinner table, she and my husband would become engrossed in heated discussions about the research data, barely acknowledging my presence. That project had once been my life’s work. Yet there was not even room for me in the conversation. On the day of my prenatal appointment, they stood outside the consultation room debating what to name my baby as if I were not even there. My husband, Scott Clement, glanced back at me and said casually, “Vanessa thinks these two names have more character. Pick whichever one you like.” I said nothing. I just turned away and signed the consent form for an abortion. I thought to myself, ‘Since you’re so perfectly in sync, I want neither this baby nor you anymore.’

The industrial motor started smoking, so I grabbed my tools and rushed over. Before I could reach it, the production supervisor stopped me. “Did you fill out the emergency repair form?” I gritted my teeth and filled out the paperwork. When I went to shut off the power, the safety officer stopped me. “Did you complete the shutdown risk assessment?” I told him the equipment was about to burn out. Then, I called my apprentice and had him pick up the replacement parts so we could start the emergency repair. My apprentice had barely gotten his hands on the parts when the warehouse manager came charging over and stopped him. “Where’s the parts requisition form? I can’t issue the parts without one.” My voice had already gone hoarse from sheer frustration. “Just let us fix it first!” I shouted. The warehouse manager merely sneered. “You still haven’t gone through the proper procedure.” I stared at the three of them and said slowly and clearly, “I’m asking one last time. Are you going to let me shut down the power and fix this machine?” They all stepped forward in unison, and none of them moved aside. That was when I finally understood that they were not trying to get the job done. They simply wanted me to know that they had the authority to stop me and that nothing could happen without their approval. I finally lost all patience and nodded. “Fine! Don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” The moment the words left my mouth, a dull boom came from behind me. The motor burned out, and the entire plant was plunged into darkness.

A former classmate of mine, Zack Lindell, is unlawfully fired by his company and denied a severance package. With nowhere else to turn, he becomes so desperate that he threatens to take his own life. I represent him entirely free of charge and run myself ragged until I secure a 500,000-dollar settlement for him. Yet on the day he receives the money, he comes to me with a 50-dollar parking receipt. "William, I drove my car that day, so I'll let the gas money slide, but the parking was because you had business at the courthouse, so that should be your expense, right?" Beside him, his wife, Helena Lindell, adds sarcastically, "I hear you big-shot corporate lawyers make insane money. Tens of thousands, and even hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. You're not seriously going to stick us with a 50-dollar parking bill, are you?" As I watch the couple count their money, I lose whatever goodwill I still have toward them. I turn down an acquisition worth millions of dollars to handle his case, only to end up owing Zack 50 dollars for parking. I toss a hundred-dollar bill onto the table and block them. A year later, Zack sinks his life savings into a residential development that is never completed. When he can't find anyone willing to help him recover his money, he corners me with tears in his eyes. "William! Please, you have to help me! That money was everything we had." I have my assistant hand him a retainer agreement. "I can help you, but my consultation fees run at 5,000 dollars per hour, and my contingency fee is 30% of the total asset value. Those are my terms. Not a penny less."

"Veya AI, book me a table for a business dinner tomorrow." In my last life, our intern, Vincent Tate, tried using AI to book a client dinner. I told him Veya AI couldn't make reservations. Yet he waited until after work to do it himself. Too late. Every table was gone. Vincent immediately started crying to the whole office. "If Mr. Alford hadn't stopped me from using AI, I would've gotten a table! Now we blew the deal!" My fiancée, Peyton Welch, and the rest of my coworkers piled on. "Why can't AI make reservations? Vincent's right. You're paying for every dollar we lose!" Peyton shoved me during the fight. Then I fell off the building. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right at the moment Vincent tried using AI to book the table. This time, I kept my mouth shut. I listened as he gave Veya AI the command. Go for it, Vincent. Let's see AI get you that table...

I walked back into the office after the Labor Day weekend and found myself trending online. One employee had posted under their real name, complaining that the company never organized team-building events, and that a long weekend like this was exactly the kind of time we should be setting aside to bring the staff closer together. Plenty of other employees had piled on in the comments. The internet tore into me, insisting I had no idea how to run a company. What none of them knew was that I hadn't skipped team-building to save money. I'd folded every dollar of that budget into everyone's bonus instead, and I paid out even more around the holidays. As far as I was concerned, people came to work to earn a living, not to make friends. Cash in hand beat everything else. Since the crowd felt so strongly about it, I decided to give the people what they wanted. The next day, I posted a notice to the company group chat. [Starting today, we'll hold team-building every Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday evening. Location: the grill stand outside the office. Anyone who misses it without a valid excuse will be marked absent and docked pay.] The moment employees read it, the outrage was instant. "Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday are already our worst days! How are we supposed to come in the next morning after staying up half the night?" I just smiled and answered, "Don't say the boss doesn't care. Nothing warms the heart like a late-night team dinner."

When my CEO wife, Rita Scanlond, decided to promote me as the lead in a project, I was not grateful for the offer, and I slapped every single board member present. I gave up the six‑figure salary and returned home to enjoy my life. Everyone believed I had gone crazy from immense pressure and demanded that a rebellious employee like me be fired. Rita's assistant, Hudson Cobb, made fun of me for not having any ambition and tried to replace me in the company. I laughed at the situation even though I was not compensated for being fired. This happened because Rita had insisted in my past life that we use Hudson's proposal for the project, which caused our data to be stolen and led to billions in loss. I was made the scapegoat of the company for leading the project and was beaten by debtors as I ended up owing them billions. Rita and Hudson registered a new company and used my formula to become successful entrepreneurs. Without me to be the scapegoat in this life, I wanted to see how Rita would pay back billions in debt.

The day the company is exposed for accounting fraud, my wife, Megan Grant, immediately holds a press conference to protect Liam Johnson. She shifts all the blame onto me, publicly declaring that I will be punished by the law. Liam puts on an act of heartbreak, saying, "Flynn, I warned you a long time ago that you can't just take the company's money. Why didn't you listen?" My coworkers stare at me in disbelief, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smile, take responsibility for everything, and resign. Megan thinks I've finally come to my senses and quietly promises me, "Once this blows over, I'll find a way to get your position back. I'll also tell everyone about our marriage. Consider it my way of making it up to you." However, there's one thing she doesn't know. In order to protect the company's interests, the chairman ordered me to install monitoring software on all the company's computers on the day we opened our doors. Once he retrieves those system logs, their lies will fall apart! When the truth comes to light, they won't just be facing massive financial fines; they'll be facing prison time too!

When I was fifteen, my father brought home the daughter of the man who had once saved his life. He told me, "Stella, Hazel is your sister now. You need to be more understanding with her." From that day on, everything I had became something my father could freely give to Hazel. I cried and asked him if he no longer loved me. But he stroked my head and reassured me, "I am only doing this to repay a debt. Don't worry. I'll leave all my assets and the company to you." It was not until I graduated from college that I happened to overhear Hazel sweet-talking my father. "Dad, I like Julian. Could you get Stella to break off her engagement with him and let me have him? "Besides, Stella didn't study business management in college. Why don't you let me join the company and help out? I could take some of the burden off your shoulders." I clenched my fists, anger churning in my chest. For all these years, I had given in to her again and again. And now she wanted to take not only my fiance, but my inheritance as well?

My childhood friend and I had built a company together for seven years, and my proprietary algorithm was what kept the entire business running. However, his new girlfriend started targeting me the moment she joined the company. "Why does some nobody in data deserve 80,000 dollars? All you do is plug things into templates and run a few programs. Your salary is cut to 2,000 dollars from now on. You'll only handle basic data processing. I'll take over the core model." My childhood friend said nothing, silently allowing his girlfriend to rip me a new one. When I noticed that, I didn't argue. I simply agreed to the pay cut. A week later, the company's regular clients saw their conversion rates plummet, putting us on the hook for massive termination fees. His girlfriend came to me in tears, clutching a pile of useless data. "How could you just stop helping?" I smiled and held up the contract. "2,000 dollars a month, remember? So, all I'm responsible for is plugging things into templates."

After saving money with Justin Pierre for five years, we finally went to view a house. My best friend, Maria Houston, came along too. "The master bedroom needs a walk-in closet. Can we knock down this wall?" she asked Justin while pointing at the floor plan I had been looking at for the past six months. "I'll get a designer to take a look tomorrow. You can change it however you want." The two of them discussed everything, from the direction the apartment faced to the tiles, from the floor-to-ceiling windows to the bathtub. Meanwhile, I stood in the corner, unable to get a word in. When it was time to sign the papers, he seemed to suddenly remember I was here and said, "We'll put this place under Maria's name for now. She's here all by herself, so consider it a company benefit. The company is a little tight on cash lately. You can keep renting for another two years." However, I had also left my hometown behind to build a life with him from nothing five years ago. Back then, we had squeezed into a tiny apartment without even air-conditioning, and he had made me a promise with absolute certainty. "Once the company takes off, the first thing I'll do is give you a home." Now that the company had finally succeeded, the first home he bought was for someone else. I stared at the two signatures side by side on the contract and realized there was no place for my name. Since he had already planned a future that did not include me, I was not going to wait for him anymore. Thinking about it, I opened the page to terminate my lease and confirmed it.

I know my chances of getting promoted are gone the moment I find out that Henry Zeller joined the company through connections. Henry is Yvonne Parker's first love, the one man she still hasn't gotten over. After the promotion is announced, Henry comes over. "If I were you, I wouldn't have expected any other outcome. You knew I was in the running," he says smugly. "After all these years, you should've known that it doesn't matter that you're her husband. I'll always be her first choice." I stare at him. I can't even remember how many times I've lost to him since he reentered my life. There was my last birthday, when Yvonne chose to go hiking with him. Then there was our anniversary, when she left me to go to him because he said he was scared. I don't remember anymore. All I know is that I've been waiting for this promotion for three years. Henry knows it, and so does Yvonne. After five years of marriage, I thought she would at least let me win once. But, once again, I lost. I look over wearily at Yvonne in the distance. I don't feel like competing with Henry anymore. I can't spend the rest of my life letting a woman who doesn't love me decide whether I get to win or lose.

I find a slip of paper on the back of a flyer I'm holding during the first day of club recruitment. It says that the president of the dance club, Donna Shaw, will announce in front of more than 100 people that I'm pregnant. She's got everything ready—ultrasound reports, hospital records, and even eyewitnesses. Henry Baker, her boyfriend and president of the Student Activities Board, will step in to save the day in front of everyone. Consequently, the whole school will condemn me, and I will be expelled. I stare at the paper, wondering what kind of lame prank this is. I turn the paper over. The smile on my face fades when I see that the handwriting is identical to my own. I slip the paper into my pocket. At 3:00 pm, I make my way past the dance club's booth. The second I stop, Donna points at my stomach, her eyes red. "We don't accept people with no morals… I saw it. Your belly is already showing." Everyone looks at me, and someone gasps. I look down at my completely flat stomach, then back at her. I smile. My voice isn't loud, but everyone can hear me. "I'm pregnant? Are you sure about that? "I'm a guy. Tell me. How exactly did the baby get inside me?"

It took me three months to get our company retreat venue down to $200 a head. All 120 people in the company thought it was a steal, and they couldn't stop telling me so. Then Chloe, the new intern, tagged me in the company group chat. "Ryan, Cookie says this lodge will do $150 a person. You quoted $200. Where did the other fifty go?" Our boss decided on the spot: "Chloe's running the retreat." And all hundred-plus people in the company decided I'd been taking kickbacks. I stared at the screen and typed two words. "Sounds good." What she didn't know was that the $200 was a family rate, one I'd earned by working three months as a server for my dad. The public price? It starts at $380.

At a charity gala in Manhattan, a reporter asked the final question of the night. "Mr. Hayes, whose name will be on the $200 million trust you announced tonight?" The question had barely left her lips before knowing laughter rippled through the crowd. The answer was obvious. It could only be me —— his wife and the heiress to Lockwood Holdings, Chloe Lockwood. I was about to stand and share in his moment. But my husband, Eric Hayes, dropped a bombshell. "It will be named for the most important person in my life: the girl I once shared a bed with." "When I was broke and had nowhere to go, she gave me half her bed. We split the rent on a $350 attic room." "Her warmth was the only reason I could sleep at night." "Without her encouragement, I wouldn't be who I am today." The reporter scrambled to recover. "Mr. Hayes is clearly a man of deep loyalty. What a beautiful story you share with Ms. Lockwood!" "Not Chloe. Another woman." Eric corrected her without hesitation. Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me. Three seconds of silence passed. I leaned toward my assistant Vivian and gave her two quiet orders. "Find her." "Then... strip Eric of everything."

An earthquake suddenly hits the company. I rush into my girlfriend's office, only to find it completely empty. I cover my head and frantically call her phone over and over. Suddenly, someone grabs my arm and leads me through the emergency exit. I look up and see my girlfriend, Leona Sampson. Her blouse is torn, and a man's suit jacket is draped over her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed, and her legs are trembling. "Where were you just now?" I ask, my eyes burning red. Among the crowd, I spot a shirtless man. He's holding the scarf I gave my girlfriend. I recognize him. It's Matt Ryder, the new intern at the company. It suddenly hits me that the woman who claims to love me deeply is cheating on me. I quietly call my best friend, Ryan Duffman. "I'm in. I'll go abroad with you. Let's start our own business."

There were only two seats left at the company dinner. One was in the corner, and the other was beside my secret boyfriend of three years, Julian Locke. I had barely taken a step forward when Julian called out to my best friend, Capri Leigh. "Capri, sit here." My coworkers immediately squealed with excitement. The group chat went wild too. "They look so good together. Just seeing them sitting next to each other is a treat!" "Has Mr. Locke ever asked someone to sit with him before?" "I bet he's got a thing for Capri. I don't care. I'm shipping them anyway!" Throughout the dinner, Julian avoided even looking at me to keep people from getting suspicious. Even when a server burned my hand while bringing out a dish, he was still taking Capri's drinks for her. At that moment, one thought suddenly hit me. I didn't want to stay in this secret relationship anymore.

For three years, I used my family's mob ties and my own money to pave the way for Declan's crew. He was the boy I survived the streets with as a kid. But at this month's sit-down, his newly hired secretary, Roxy, tossed my casino ledgers and club records onto the table in front of all the guys. She accused me of skimming profits and slacking off. "These underground banks, these smuggling docks," she read the numbers out loud, her voice full of fake outrage. "Every time she bribes someone, she skims thousands of dollars! She's lining her own pockets." "I say the Boss strips her of her club manager title right now to save our cash flow." I glanced at Declan, the boss of the crew. He knew better than anyone what that missing money actually paid for. He knew how much dock security it covered. He knew how many nods of approval it bought from politicians and cops. He also knew what I was doing when I wasn't at the club. I was making deals with dangerous gun runners. I was drinking hard liquor to secure guns and ammo for his boys. But he just stared at me coldly. "Katerina, do you have anything to say about these ledgers and the proof Roxy just showed us?" I smiled. "I have nothing to explain." Very soon, all of them would find out exactly what happens when you pull a stunt like this on a Principessa's turf.

I was the most renowned pediatrician in the pack. On the day we administered the VRX-17 vaccine I'd introduced, the pups were infected en masse. A neurotropic virus swept through the pediatric ward, killing two pups. Several more developed encephalitis, pneumonia, and permanent paralysis. The Werewolf Court convicted me of deliberate harm. I pleaded desperately that the vaccine was contaminated. But when the drug was sent for testing, the batch number and properties all came back normal. How was that possible? I'd tested the vaccine myself, and my results clearly showed something was wrong. I couldn't accept it. I sought out expert after expert to verify my findings, but every single one told me the vaccine was fine. The judge and the officers wore grim expressions as they spoke. "Ma'am, you can't defraud the pack's medical system like this." "Think of the pups you killed. What had they ever done to deserve it?" In the end, I was sentenced to death for causing a catastrophic medical incident. My parents were accused of aiding my violations. They were stripped of their positions and died under a torrent of blame and injustice. I learned of their deaths before my execution. Even as the wolfsbane seeped into my veins, all I could feel was regret. When I opened my eyes again, a nurse was about to push VRX-17 into a pup's vein.

On the day of the business dinner, my boyfriend, Sebastian Lambert, makes up an excuse to send me away. He then has Laura Jensen, the woman he's never gotten over, take over the fashion design proposal I'm about to finish. She goes to the dinner in my place. By the time I get back, Laura has already replaced me as the lead on the project. Everyone expects me to lose it. Instead, I just smile and decide to hand Laura my job too. "It's just one proposal. You can have it. In fact, you can have my job as head designer too!" What none of them realizes is that the company only got this far because of my family's investment. The moment I walk away, my family will pull its funding. The company will be headed straight for bankruptcy, and Sebastian will be left covering all the losses and paying a huge amount in damages.

The night before the Fourth of July holiday, my husband gathered the entire company for what I thought would finally be our long-awaited public announcement. Instead, his clueless assistant burst into the room wearing a wedding dress. "Cameron, I'm here to marry you." He didn't turn her down. If anything, his eyes softened with unmistakable affection as he promoted her to vice president on the spot. The entire company erupted in cheers for their love story. When my coworkers noticed me standing frozen off to the side, one of them couldn't resist reminding me. "Stephanie, you've been with Mr. Cox for nine years. You can't let a moment this special pass without saying something!" I smiled, walked onto the stage, slipped off my wedding ring, and tossed it to Poppy Campbell. "What kind of wedding doesn't come with a ring? Here, take it."