Bias Workplace Short Stories & Novels

For five years, Julia Foster keeps me hidden in the kitchen because she is ashamed to have me represent Lockhart's Kitchen, so I take my cooking to her biggest rival. Whenever customers rave about the food, she sends William Hayes out to take the credit. Yet, whenever something goes wrong, she blames me without a second thought. William is the restaurant's public face, so he can't afford to make a single mistake. The truth is, he can't even tell coriander from cumin. When the food festival comes around, Julia sends me home on indefinite leave because she doesn't want me stealing William's spotlight. After finding out that she's planning to take the Lockhart's Kitchen trademark away from me and give it to William, I head straight to her biggest rival, Sullivan's Kitchen.

At the award-giving ceremony of the end-of-the-year gala, my boss, George White, suddenly announces that he will be adding a bonus round on a whim. "This is the annual department evaluation! The department that comes last shall come onto the stage and receive a tiny encouragement from me!" The huge screen lights up at that moment. The sales achievements accumulated by all departments are being shown in a ranking system. The sales department is ranked first. The operations department comes second, and the marketing department gets third place. As for the administrative department, the sales achievements shown on the screen are none. After all, that department has no KPI to achieve at all. George beams at us from the administrative department. "Everyone from the administrative department, come on up and receive your prize!" Two people can be seen carrying a basket of brooms up the stage. Everyone bursts into laughter instantly. "Come now, sweep away your bad luck with the brooms! Try not to come up as the bottom-ranked department again next year!" George personally thrusts the brooms into our hands. Camera flashes go off beneath the stage—people are clearly taking photos of us. The people from the sales department are the ones laughing the hardest. "Finally, the peeps from the administrative department are getting the recognition they deserve!"

The moment the project meeting ended, my younger brother, Charles Peay, slid a USB drive across the table toward me. “Henry, it has the final bid on it. I need to go pick up Dad, so keep it for me.” In my previous life, I agreed to hold onto that USB drive for him. That very night, our bid was leaked. Stark Corporation beat us by a single dollar and snatched the hundred-billion-dollar project that the Peay and Grant families had spent months preparing for. The USB drive had remained in my possession the entire time leading up to the bidding. After the incident, 20 million dollars mysteriously appeared in one of my accounts. Charles defended me, saying, “Maybe Henry just lost his head for a moment. I believe he never meant to hurt the Peay family.” Just like that, I was deemed guilty. My adoptive father stripped me of my position and my inheritance rights, then threw me out of the Peay family. Even my engagement to the Grant family was given to Charles instead. Later, I died while searching for the truth. Only before my death did I discover that the bid documents had been copied long before the leak. That USB drive had never been something Charles entrusted to me. It was evidence my dear little brother had carefully planted to make me take the fall. Now, I glanced at the USB drive on the table, stood up, and shut the conference room door. “Everyone, stay where you are.”

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

I opened a restaurant in an alley, and business was booming. When the lease expired, I took the initiative to talk to the landlord about renewing it. The landlord, Jasper Smith, crossed his legs and said, “My dear Flynn, my dear little nephew Harvey Jordan, wants to open a restaurant too. So, this place would be perfect for him. “He thinks your food is delicious, so he went out of his way to learn all the recipes for your dishes and soups. Come to think of it, he has you to thank for your careful guidance!” The blood rushed to my head. Harvey Jordan had kept his relationship with Jasper from me and worked at my restaurant for half a year. He had stolen my recipes, and he was trying to kick me out to steal my customers? I was furious. “Mr. Smith, isn’t this going a bit too far?” Jasper slammed his hand on the table. “The shop lot is mine. I’m free to rent it to whomever I want! Clear everything out before the lease expires!” I laughed through gritted teeth. “Are you sure you want to go down this road?” I had a secret blend of spices that I had never shared with anyone. Without it, my soups would become increasingly bitter the longer they boiled. Harvey had only learned some surface knowledge. He had yet to grasp the soul of it. I was interested to see how he would manage running a restaurant without its soul.

As New Year's Day approaches, a new hire who has only been with the company for six months, who is a mama's girl, calls the police and tries to have me arrested. She suspects our company is some kind of a scam. But the truth is, the company exceeded its performance targets this year. That is why I prepared a million-dollar year-end bonus, a ten-day premium trip to Graceland, and equity grants for my employees. Yet, she waves around a video her mother sends her, claiming that high-paying jobs like the one I offered are all traps. Not only that, she slanders my company all over the internet. Netizens become outraged and call me a scammer disguised as an entrepreneur. Having become the target of public criticism, I simply issue a notice, saying, "The company will immediately begin transfer procedures, and all perks are canceled." As soon as the announcement comes out, my employees, who have just taken out loans to buy homes and just gotten their visas for the trip, are completely stunned.

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."

At the end of the year, the company made employees vote on who would be laid off. In front of the boss, the votes were read aloud one by one. Natalie Reed. One vote. Natalie. Two votes. Natalie... thirty votes. All thirty people on my team had voted me out. I clenched my fists and looked around at my coworkers. Every single one of them avoided my eyes. Maggie Turner was the oldest on the team. I knew she had to pick up her kid, so whenever she could not finish her work and had to rush to her kid’s school, I stayed behind and cleaned up after her. Dylan joined last year. He was losing sleep every night over money for his wedding. I squeezed time out of my own schedule, helped him complete his project, and got him a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. And the trainee closest to me started trembling the moment I looked at her. She looked just as timid as she had when her hands shook and spilled wine all over a client. Back then, to fix the mess for her, I apologized to the client and drank until I had a stomach hemorrhage. Only then did she pass probation. I could not help feeling hurt. The boss looked at the result and asked if I had anything to say. I took a deep breath and asked everyone on the team, “Why did you vote for me?” My timid trainee suddenly found her courage. “Because you always pretend to help people, then steal our credit.” “Otherwise, how could someone as useless as you become the top salesperson?” I laughed, took off my employee badge, and placed it on the table. A week later, my boss was kneeling outside my door, begging me, the so-called useless one, to come back to the company.

Everyone in the pack knew that my mate Damien loved me fiercely. After our mating ceremony, Damien gave me three bonding gifts. The first was a protective amulet he'd prayed three days and three nights for at the Moon Goddess shrine. The second was a sculpture he spent months carving with his own hands. The third was a diamond ring — the symbol of the Luna — priceless, and with it came the authority to govern the pack. On my birthday, he went searching for a moonstone and was ambushed by rogue wolves. He fell off a cliff. When he woke, his memory was gone. A bar hostess had rescued him. They fell in love. But the day before their mating ceremony, his memories returned, and he came back to me without hesitation. Just when I thought he'd ended things with her, on the very day I found out I was pregnant, I received a video — an intimate recording of the two of them together. Vivian was already carrying his child, nestled against Damien like a helpless little bird. "You're carrying my child. I won't abandon you. As for Elena — a few sweet words and she'll do whatever I say." I turned off my phone and sent a mind-link to my father. "Dad. The arranged mating you set up for me — I accept."

Out of the blue, I get a call from the Department of Labor. The officer tells me they received a complaint, accusing me of gender discrimination. Apparently, my treatment of the male and female employees is extremely unequal. I'm left feeling utterly bewildered. Out of compassion for my employees, I give the female employees paid leave during their periods and pregnancy. I also give the male employees the benefit of a family support allowance. I've never discriminated against anyone because of their gender, and neither have I ever mistreated any of the employees. But then, I proceed to see the social media post that has gone viral. "A certain company gives male employees an additional allowance of a thousand dollars a month! Male and female employees are given different treatment!" Having caught on right away, I call a staff meeting and announce, "All of the company benefits have been canceled. You will only receive the basic benefits listed in your employment contract." Everyone goes up in arms.

At the space agency's awards ceremony, my husband gave the honor that should have been mine to his first love, who had just returned from overseas. He accused me of plagiarism and rescinded my promotion in front of everyone. Everyone thought I would argue and make a scene, but I simply smiled and personally placed my work badge around his first love's neck. "A new position calls for a celebration, doesn't it? Why not make it a wedding? I'd be happy to officiate." They didn't know that I was the only one capable of drawing the rocket's design blueprints. Even the resources keeping the project alive had been secured because of my reputation and connections. This time, I wanted to see whether she really was the brilliant overseas-trained expert they claimed she was—or merely a pretty face with nothing to back it up.

My boss had a new boyfriend called Eugene Larson. The first day he came to the office, he put on a great show of exerting his dominance. He deleted my number from my boss's phone right in front of me. Eugene waved his phone in front of me while playing innocently. "You can talk to me about anything you need to communicate to Tina, Mr. Sanders. I'll help you pass the message to her. I don't have much sense of security, so please don't mind this. It's to avoid any misunderstanding between us." I was hoping my boss, Tina Kayden, would be able to say something fair on my behalf, but all she did was stare at Eugene approvingly and adoringly throughout the conversation. She turned to me and said, "This is a pretty good plan, Mr. Sanders. Do take good care of Eugene from now on." As there was no way for me to reject her, I was forced to add Eugene's contact to my phone. However, the moment he had my number, he flooded my phone with messages. [Mr. Sanders, is the client you're meeting tomorrow with the surname Charleston a man or a woman?] [Where are you having the meeting tomorrow? Wear something casual tomorrow. It would be best if you avoid washing your face and hair. Otherwise, I would think you're trying to seduce my wife.] [I believe your relationship with Tina is innocent. You're not allowed to betray me because I'm treating you like my buddy!] [By the way, you have an extra duty from now on. You need to remind Tina every 30 minutes to send me a message telling me that she loves me.] As I read these ridiculous messages, I laughed in anger. I put my phone on silent mode and flung it to the side before going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls on my phone.

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!

The company had been losing money for two consecutive years. That year, with our biggest client suddenly going out of business, we lost nearly ten million dollars in receivables. On New Year's Eve, I sent out a company-wide apology email after much deliberation. The email stated, "At this moment, I regret to inform that we can only increase each employee's monthly salary by 20 dollars this year." An intern named Ingrid Little took a screenshot of the email and posted it online. In no time, her post started trending. The entire internet criticized me for being fake and pretending to be poor. They said that my shameless act was a blatant insult to my employees' hard work. "20 dollars doesn't even cover commuting!" "Why hasn't this garbage company gone under yet?" Ingrid replied to each comment with the same line: "I don't care about the money. I just feel insulted. I'm quitting tomorrow." The next day, I walked into the office with bloodshot eyes and turned on the company-wide broadcast. I announced, "Since some people believe I've insulted their dignity, you may submit your resignation immediately. However, you will no longer be entitled to the year-end bonus of 20 thousand dollars." Everyone gasped in disbelief. Ingrid turned completely pale, and some workers even rushed into my office impulsively. "Boss, this has nothing to do with me! I stand with the company!" After all, my company had increased salaries for 37 consecutive years and given an average raise of over 2,000 dollars each time. They wouldn't find a company like mine elsewhere.

I've spent five long and devoted years at the company. At first, I think I'm getting a promotion soon. What I don't expect is that my superior, Jacob Hale, decides to burn bridges with me by forcing me to voluntarily quit the job. He also promotes Megan Osborn, a pretentious woman who spends her time kissing up to the right people. That's when I also find out that the employee I've been training from the start, Cindy Sutton, and Megan are actually best friends of many years. They keep hunting for my faults just so they can send them to Jacob behind my back. To make things worse, my boyfriend of seven years, Felix Wilkins, is even being flirtatious and intimate with Megan in public! Fine! I don't mind changing my identity and rejoining this game!

My colleague Rachel Stone always loved having her delivery packages sent to my desk and signed under my name. Today, the delivery man arrived lugging an exceptionally large cardboard box. "Nicole Sullivan? Your camera. That's four thousand nine hundred. Please sign here." Someone in the office instantly blew a whistle. "Not bad, Nicole! Upgrading your gear right after receiving your bonus?" "What kind of fancy camera costs that much?" I froze for a bit, catching sight of the brand logo on the side of the package. It was a recently released full-frame camera. Suddenly, several translucent lines of text floated before my eyes. "Don't sign it!" "Whatever you do, don't touch the package!" "This is the beginning of Rachel dragging you down into the abyss!" My hand holding the pen jerked to a sudden halt. I assumed I was suffering from hallucinations caused by staying up late too often recently. Yet the lines of text sprouted up even more rapidly. "She's already requested refunds on six of the orders for phones, tablets, and headphones you signed for earlier!" "Her reasons are empty boxes, incorrect items, or damaged goods." "The delivery records list you as the person who signed for every one of them!" "A week from now, the brand representatives will come here during work hours." "Rachel will burst into tears, claiming she only asked for your help and knew nothing about any refunds." "You'll be framed as the mastermind behind the refund scam. To protect its reputation, the company will suspend you that very day." "Even though the police clear your name later, your job is gone, and the scandal spreads through a bunch of company group chats." A loud buzz resonated through my head. The delivery guy looked at me in confusion. "What's wrong?" I slowly set the pen back down. "This isn't my package."

After screenshots from our company chat leaked, I ended up trending. The whole internet was cursing my name, all because my employees claimed our flexible scheduling policy was exploitation in disguise. They said it turned quitting time into a competition, wrecked their sleep and their health, and never raised their pay by a cent. What nobody online knew was that my policy let anyone go home the moment they'd hit their hours for the week. Plenty of my people worked four days and took three off. Some worked three and took four. So when the internet demanded I pay for labor performed, I graciously took their advice and scrapped flex time. I replaced it with fixed hours: nine to nine, six days a week. And I split a five-figure monthly salary into a $2,500 base plus uncapped performance pay. More work, more money. The moment the notice went out, the whole company exploded. Now the leads from half a dozen project teams are crowded outside my office door, begging me to bring flex time back.

"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...

At the year-end party, everyone receives their year-end bonuses on the spot. While my colleagues receive cars and gold bars, I, on the other hand, get ten packs of instant noodles as my bonus. The veteran colleagues have me surrounded immediately. "Hey Dana, this prize suits you a lot! You keep meeting the clients outside the company, after all. Instant noodles really are a useful gift! I, on the other hand, have to pay for my new car's maintenance! Seriously, I'm really envious of you!" "I know, right? I just received a gold bangle as my bonus, and I'm really scared that I might get robbed if I were to wear it. Dana, your instant noodles is a reassuring sight. Once you get hungry, you can eat it right away. Mr. Vance cares a lot about you!" "Mr. Vance really is a kind-hearted man! To think that he shows this much concern toward Dana, who works the hardest among us! From now on, we must work even harder for him!" My boss, Harvey Vance, just waves a hand in humble pretense amid the crowd, though he can't stop himself from smirking smugly at me. That's when I flash everyone a smile abruptly. Then, I walk to a corner and dial the number of my company's rival. "I shall accept your proposed offer as the deputy CEO in your company."

On the night of the company's semiannual appreciation dinner party, everyone exchanges little gifts in a blind-box-style game. However, Madeline Lively, the daughter of my fiancé's late mentor, walks straight up to me. "Open mine, Ciara." I glance at the card on her box, which reads, "Exclusively for the mistress." My brows furrow. But just as I'm about to decline, she tears the box open herself and shoves the contents right in my face. It's a marriage certificate—bearing the names of her and my fiancé, Keith Hummel! "I hope you like it!" The room instantly erupts into wild jeers and laughter. "Finally! I never thought I'd live to see Ms. Coleman wear something other than that sour expression!" "It's finally out in the open! That means I can officially call Maddy 'Mrs. Hummel' now, right?" I take a deep breath and turn to the man standing nearby, sipping his wine with a quiet, knowing smirk. "Explain." He finally looks up at me. "Explain what? My mentor died for me, and I'm indebted to him. His only dying wish was for Maddy to find a good man and have a secure future. All she wants is the title. The wedding is still yours." He says all that as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I let out a cold laugh. Come the day of the wedding, I slam a marriage certificate of my own right in front of his face. "Oh, he only wants the title, too," I say to Keith, referring to the man whose name is printed next to mine on the marriage certificate. "But unlike you, I actually want to give him a wedding."