Cerita Pendek Feel-Good Story & Novel Independence Face Slapping

On my first day after being appointed President of the Castellano Group, I had just reached the main entrance of the company headquarters when a female employee stopped me. “Only senior management is allowed through this entrance. Janitorial staff must use the side entrance.” I frowned slightly. “I’m not janitorial staff.” Instead of backing down, she took the senior employee ID badge from her chest and waved it in front of me with a mocking smile. “Not janitorial staff?” “Then you’re an intern?” “Interns have to use the side entrance too! This has been a long-standing rule of our company!” “If you can’t even follow such a basic rule, pack your things and get out right now!” I glanced at the ID badge in her hand. Executive Assistant? Wasn’t she my fiancé, Damian Castellano’s, personal assistant? I immediately called Damian to confront him, only to hear his indulgent chuckle from the other end. “That little wildcat has quite the temper.” “Forget it. Using the side entrance won’t hurt you. Just let her have her way.” “Otherwise, how is she supposed to hold her head up at the company from now on?” With that, he hung up. The female assistant lifted her chin and sneered. “What are you pretending for? Hurry up and move!” “Senior executives will be coming through this entrance later. Don’t get their expensive shoes dirty!” I was so angry that I laughed. I pushed her aside, used my own authorization to unlock the main entrance, and walked inside without a hint of urgency. If the company’s old rules had already rotted to this point, then today, I would be the one to rewrite them.

Three days after divorcing my ex-husband, Julian Hendricks, I receive a message from him. "Why haven't you wired your salary for this month to me yet?" I assume that he's pulling my leg and reply, "We're already divorced." "So what?" he retorts. "You're supposed to transfer 19,000 dollars out of your 20,000-dollar salary to me every month. You can spend the remaining 1,000 dollars however you want, just like before. "I took care of you when you weren't working in the past. How dare you stop giving me money just because we're divorced?" I stare at his messages in stunned silence. Throughout our three years of marriage, I give 19,000 dollars of my 20,000 dollar salary to Julian every month. Julian claims he's using the money to plan our overall household expenses, when in reality, he's using it to pay for his civil service exam, cover his meals with his friends, and treat his "study buddy" whom I've never even met. He scolds me when he catches me playing games after work, criticizing my lack of desire to improve myself even though I'm the one who cooks, cleans, and does the laundry. The audacity of this man. How dare he think that I'm still obligated to give him money when we're already divorced? The reason that Julian gives me is that he's worried that I'll spend my money frivolously. I block his number. Three seconds later, he calls me from a different number. "You'll regret this. This is the last time I'm ever helping you." I burst out laughing. Help me? No one has ever extended a helping hand to me in the last three years.

My fated mate, Alpha Ethan, chose another woman over me. Not once. Not twice. But ninety-nine times. He always claimed it was for the pack. He always swore he loved me. He always promised that next time, I would be his priority. Then she showed up at his Alpha ceremony. The outsider, Oliva. In my Luna gown. My Beta saw red and told Oliva to get her ass out of our pack. Ethan abandoned me on the stage—on the night we were to be crowned together—and stormed down to shield Oliva in his arms. For the hundredth time, he ordered me to apologize for the sake of an alliance. As if she was the victim. And just like that... I was done. I drew my silver dagger and sliced it across my palm. "I, Ivana, before the Moon Goddess and the Elders, reject my mate bond with Alpha Ethan." He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He was wrong. I didn't just shatter our bond. I erased him. And that’s when he lost his mind, tossing Oliva aside and begging me to come back.

After being framed for cheating on the SAT and having all his scores invalidated, Sebastian Anglem spent five years clawing his way to the top, eventually becoming the youngest CEO in the history of an overseas unicorn company. He returned to the country on a business trip. The moment his plane landed, a friend called him in a panic and asked him to fill in as an interviewer at the branch office to screen potential hires. The instant Sebastian pushed open the meeting room door, every eye inside snapped toward him in shock. He quickly realized he had entered the wrong room. That was the candidates' waiting room, not the interview room. He turned to leave. "Sebastian? It really is you." A man inside spoke first, his voice thick with mockery. "Well, well. If it isn't our school's infamous cheating freak. This company happens to be a pretty big name here in Porteaus City. How do you even have the nerve to show your face for an interview?"

After Julian Hart and I got back together, I was the one who brought up getting engaged. He swore I was the only woman he'd ever love. I smiled and held out my hand, and a chime sounded in my head as the system deposited another $150,000 into my account. From that day on, I became his lowest-maintenance fiancée. I stopped asking why his notes app still had his ex-wife's period tracker. I never called out the hotel receipt from the "business trip" he'd lied about. Not even when Vanessa Lane posted the diamond ring he'd bought her, with the caption "My ex-husband still knows me best." Not even when he went over in the middle of the night to fix her pipes and stayed out until morning, or when he bought two sets of Valentine's gifts. Even when he told me marrying me was his greatest dream, his eyes sliding away as he said it, I could still smile sweetly and play along. "I know. You love me most." It wasn't that I was dying to marry him. It was that the system's rewards had a clear price tag. Every lie he told me put more money in my account. I'm not stupid. If I was going to let him lie to me this long, I might as well get something out of it.

At the Alpha Summit, my younger brother Felix accused me in front of everyone. "I grew up crushed under my older sister's thumb. If I so much as ate a piece of candy, she'd pry my mouth open and dig it out." I swirled the red wine in my glass and gave a cold laugh. "That wasn't candy. It was a pill made from wolfsbane. If I hadn't saved you, you wouldn't even have the chance to stand here talking to me." Felix's face froze. Refusing to give up, he said, "When our cousin Toby came to stay with us, you gave him every single moonstone I'd worked so hard to find. I'm your own brother, and you played favorites with someone else?" I sighed. "Your cousin had it rough. A big fire burned his family's house to the ground." "What does that have to do with me? Just because he had it rough, I'm supposed to give in to him every time?" "You set that fire." The room went dead silent. The reporters hammered their shutter buttons, capturing Felix looking as if he'd swallowed something foul. "Well, didn't I find him a job afterward? I went out of my way to help him, but the second you found out, you beat me up. Do you have any idea how badly that scarred my fragile young heart?" His eyes reddened as he spoke, while the memory made my blood boil all over again. "You shipped your cousin off to work in a mine in the Wastelands. How is that any different from exile? "You locked him into a five-year contract when you sent him there, so he's still serving hard labor in the Wastelands. You're telling me you didn't deserve that beating?" The viewers watching the livestream didn't know whether to laugh or cry. [Poor Toby. He still hasn't escaped that family?] [See, no beating is ever wasted.] [Just get a new brother. This one's a lost cause.]

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"

The villagers raised me as a child. So, when I became successful, I initiated a development plan for the village to repay their kindness. However, because of forced evictions, the village chief’s family, who were the kindest to me, four villagers, and two youngsters died miserably under the excavator’s shovel. I gave away every penny I had, knelt in the rubble to beg forgiveness, and was beaten bloody by the enraged villagers. I was left disfigured, crippled, and eventually thrown in prison for ten years. After I came out of prison, I went to a faraway place, changed my name, and worked on a construction site. I planned to just drift through the rest of my miserable life in obscurity. However, my ex-wife and daughter tracked me down. “Max, why didn’t you tell me when you got out? That whole thing has passed now. Weylon has built a great career. He can get you a decent job. “Come home. Our daughter and I miss you.” Our daughter, Josie, glared at me with grievance. “Who misses this murderer? He’s the reason I can’t hold my head up. Everywhere I go, people curse me. I don’t want a beast like him for a father. “Mom, you and Uncle Weylon are all the family I need…” I caressed the scar on my face, looked at my crippled right leg, and felt my numb heart ache once more. Back then, the person who skimmed the compensation money, forced the evictions, and caused those deaths was Weylon, my ex-wife’s foster brother. To protect him, she had threatened me with our daughter’s life and made me take the fall. At that moment, she was standing before me, offering charity from on high.

My mother-in-law suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and was rushed into the ICU. The hospital demanded a $200,000 surgery deposit immediately, so I rushed to the bank to raise my transfer limit. The trainee teller behind the counter took my ID card, swiped it through the reader, then stared at her screen for a long time. "Hello, ma'am. Our system has flagged this transaction as suspicious and potentially linked to elder fraud. Your account has been frozen." "That's impossible! That money is for emergency surgery! My mother is still waiting at the hospital!" The trainee gave me a perfectly rehearsed customer-service smile. "For the safety of your funds, we'll need the account holder to appear in person to unlock the account." I slammed my ID against the bulletproof glass and pointed at the name on it. "Open your eyes and read carefully! I am the account holder! Who else are you waiting for?" The trainee shrank back slightly, looking utterly wronged, then spoke into the microphone in a meek voice. "Ma'am, please control your behavior. The system's risk controls are determined by big data. There's nothing I can do. "If you continue shouting and disrupting financial order, I will have to call the police." Oh, I see. She wanted to play power games using company policy as a weapon? Fine. I was more than willing to play along.

After chasing my crush, Edward Lightwood, for ten years, he finally accepted me as his blood bound. But, the day we were taking our eternal vow, his first love, Beth, from the allied clan was murdered by a gang of vampire hunters. He blamed me for her loss and tormented me every day. Exposed me to the eternal sun, pierced me with wooden stakes just not enough to kill me and then locked me up in his basement. Exhausted and heartbroken, I grabbed the oak stake and stabbed my chest in front of him. I killed myself. But, I did not die. I was reborn to the day I had confessed my feelings to Edward. But, this time, I'll not repeat my mistake. I'll stay far away from him.

Three years. Three Christmases I watched my husband pack up and cart his whole family off to Aspen for the holidays. I got left behind. Alone. "Flights are crazy expensive, Evelyn. Someone's gotta stay and watch the house." Same excuse. Every single time. The first two years, I played the good wife. But this year? No arguments. No tears. Not even a blink. I just smiled, waved them off at the door, and waited. The second their SUV disappeared around the corner, I had my realtor on the phone. "List the house. Today."

On my wedding anniversary, I go to Anthony Scroll's company in an attempt to surprise him. No one at the front desk stops me from entering. But what stops me in my tracks is the fact that a photo of me is printed on the welcome mat outside the CEO's office. There's also a sentence printed on the mat that says, "You'll be bestowed with wealth if you step on her face." My hands start trembling out of rage. As soon as I open the door to the office and try to bring up the topic in front of Anthony, Alexis Timmer, a shareholder, as well as one of Anthony's "boys", throws a stack of useless documents at my face instantly. The sharp edges of the papers leave papercuts on my cheek, sending white-hot pain flaring through my senses. Alexis has one leg crossed over the other as she chews on a piece of gum innocently. "Oh, hey Kimberly! Sorry about that. The papers came flying out of my hand for no reason. You see, the programmers are extremely stressed, so the mat is meant for them to vent their stress. "Anthony has agreed to the usage of your photo, by the way. After all, it makes things even livelier for the company. A housewife like you will never understand our niche humor." Anthony takes off his earphones before shooting me a berating glance. Then, he passes a bottle of water to Alexis. "Alex is just like one of the boys. Stop using your own rules to restrict her." As Alexis twists open the bottle cap, she tilts her chin in my direction smugly. "Also, Anthony hates it whenever you show up at the company with your stupid surprises, Kimberly. The food that you bring him always ends up getting eaten by us as a form of punishment."

Marcus Dawson put a price on everything. If he decided something wasn't worth the money, he refused to pay for it. I had broken my right leg saving his life. Even then, he refused to buy me the custom orthopedic brace that would protect my healing leg. "You won't need a brace for that long. It's such a waste of money." "Be reasonable, Ren. I'll get you the best crutches instead. Walking more will help you recover, and they won't cost nearly as much." I was quiet for a long moment. Then I whispered, "Okay." But minutes earlier, I'd seen a new Facebook post from my best friend, Jessica Vance: a five-thousand-dollar designer handbag with one breezy word in the caption. "Surprise." The hand holding the bag was blurred, but I would have known the fresh scar on that forearm anywhere. Marcus had gotten it in a car accident only weeks ago. It was Marcus. A five-thousand-dollar brace was a waste. A five-thousand-dollar bag was a surprise. The same number was excessive when it was spent on me and romantic when it was spent on her. I'd always assumed he was just being frugal. Now I realized he'd done the math a long time ago. My leg wasn't worth five thousand dollars. And neither was I. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "Nathan, I want to come home."

Everyone at school knew the class president, Lucille Levins, had grown up surrounded by love. When the weather turned cold, her fairy godmother brought her homemade pear tea. Whenever someone wronged her, her older brother was always there to stand up for her. Meanwhile, when I had a 104-degree fever and called my mom over a dozen times, all she cared about was how I was interfering with her work. When I begged my brother, Aldon Rowntree, to take me to the hospital, he snapped impatiently, "You're old enough to take care of yourself. Why can't you even do that?" No one in class wanted anything to do with me. Lucille was the only person who would eat lunch with me. She even slipped candy into my desk when no one was looking. For her eighteenth birthday, I spent half a month knitting her a scarf by hand, determined to give her something special. However, the moment I pushed open the doors to the banquet hall where she was celebrating, I froze. My mom, who had never once attended a parent-teacher conference for me, was kneeling on the floor, straightening the hem of Lucille's dress. My brother, who had refused to take me to the hospital just days ago, was carefully placing a birthday tiara on her head. With tears in her eyes, she threw her arms around them. "Thank you, Godmother! Thank you, Aldon! You treat me better than my own family ever did." Mom caressed her cheek with a look of pure adoration. "Oh, sweetheart. You're just as precious to us as our own daughter." The scarf slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. I finally learned the truth. My mom was Lucille's fairy godmother, and Aldon was her older brother who always had her back. It was not that they did not know how to show love. They simply did not want to love me.

Half an hour before I receive my degree certificate, Lionel Simmons, my boyfriend as well as the class president, tells me that my graduation will be getting delayed because I need to retake my exam on a major course. Meanwhile, Vivian Crosby, the campus belle who often ranks last in exams, is eligible to receive certifications on her courses. Lionel quickly shields Vivian from me while looking very unapologetic. "In this course, every class requires a certain quota when it comes to the retakes. Since Vivian has bad grades, there's no way she's passing the retake. That's why I submitted your name instead. "Unlike you, Vivian doesn't have excellent grades and a boyfriend who actually gives a damn about you. Even if your graduation gets delayed, it won't affect our future plans at all. Amelia, you should make some sacrifices for your fellow classmate's sake." After I strongly object against that decision, my classmates mock me for being petty and uncaring toward Vivian. Fine. Since they obviously lack empathy for me, I don't hesitate to call my uncle, who's a member of the university board as well as one of the invigilators of the final exams. "I got into the top three ranks of the final exams, and yet I can't graduate on time because I have to retake my final exam instead. Does this mean the remaining hundreds of students bribed you to not fail their exams instead? "I want everyone's graduations to get delayed alongside mine in half an hour, no matter what!"

I run a nonprofit community kitchen that provides affordable meals for seniors. One of my neighbors, Margaret Ackles, comes to me in tears, complaining that her retirement income is barely enough to live on and that her son refuses to give her any money for living expenses. She says even putting food on the table has become a struggle. Feeling sorry for her, I decide to help. Our regular meal—a 15-dollar plate with two entrees, a vegetable side, soup, and unlimited sides—is already barely breaking even, but I give her a nearly 50% discount and charge her only eight dollars. Instead of appreciating it, she shows up with four or five other older neighbors and corners me on my way home from work. "Your prices aren't fair! You call this a nonprofit, but if you're charging people, how can you call it charity? Charity is supposed to be free!" "Our meals are 15 dollars for two entrees, a vegetable side, soup, and all the sides you want," I patiently explain, clenching my fists. "We're already barely breaking even at that price." Margaret's expression immediately darkens. "You think I've lived this long without knowing how business works? If you can give us a meal for eight dollars, that means you're still making money." "Fine. We'll let you keep a little profit. We won't ask for free meals. From now on, we'll pay five dollars a meal. Consider it a favor—we're already generous enough to let you make some money."

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

To meet the project's launch deadline, I spend an entire month living at the office and only sleep three hours a day. After the successful launch, I take my request for three thousand dollars in overtime pay to the project director, Hank Zucker. He tosses the form into the trash, pats me on the shoulder, and says, "Come on, young man. Why bring money into this and ruin our relationship? You should feel honored that the company entrusted such a major project to you!" Hearing that, I smile. Fine. If that's how he wants to play it, then he can't blame me for not showing him any mercy. On Monday, the company's core user data worth hundreds of millions mysteriously vanishes from its servers.

My Don husband, just to indulge his little mistress's fantasy of playing Don's wife, pretended to have lost his memory at sea and tried to push me out of the family. By chance, I overheard his mistress teasing him: "Can I borrow Don's wife for a few days? And… Can I borrow the Don too?" My husband, all smiles and indulgence, replied, "Of course. Both are yours for a few days." I froze for a moment, then turned away, pretending it did not bother me. The next day, at the family meeting, he announced that his mistress was then his wife, ordered me out of the family business, and demanded I hand over every ounce of authority I held. The elders all turned to me, silently hoping I would defy his ridiculous decree. I said nothing. I handed over the keys and authority without a word. However, he did not know that our next arms deal was just nine days away, and the other party was Amestia's most powerful mafia, the Romano family. They dealt with no one but me.

In my past life, when Mom and Dad divorced, they made my sister and me choose. My younger sister, Keira McKellen, didn't hesitate—she picked our rich father, certain she'd become a wealthy young lady and inherit a fortune. But Dad already had another woman, and once his mistress gave birth to a son, Keira went from heiress to nothing overnight. Worse, the woman drove her out of the house entirely, and she was left to wander with nowhere to go. I chose Mom, and ended up living the charmed life instead: I got into a top university, married into a powerful family, and went from ugly duckling to swan—the very top of the world. My sister's envy of me curdled into madness, and on the day my whole family gathered to celebrate my birthday, she burned every one of them alive. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day of my parents' divorce, all over from the start. I saw her rush to choose Mom before I even could, and I knew—she'd been reborn too. What she doesn't know is that living with Dad is miserable, sure, but Mom is broke and out of her mind, and life with her is even worse.