Nouvelles Independence Workplace & Romans

I've gotten reborn on the night before Christmas. The first thing I do is send my boss, Jack Davenport, a resignation letter. Then, I board the next flight to Coral Bay for my vacation. In my previous lifetime, my colleague, Julie Trent, had called me when I was on vacation. She told me that the numbers on the account ledgers wouldn't add up, and the IRS would be conducting its audit soon. That was why she pleaded with me to save her. After hearing Julie's pleas, I boarded the earliest flight back to the city before hurrying back to my company. There, I double-checked all the accounts, leading to the discovery of the deficit in the accounts. So, I used my own money to pay off the deficit, allowing the company to pass the IRS' audit process. Even so, the submission of our accounts went past the deadline, resulting in the company receiving a fine. Julie decided to pin the blame on me. "There's a deficit in the accounts because Annie wanted to secretly embezzle the company's funds!" I quickly explained everything to Jack. But the very same boss, who used to be understanding and rational, just looked at me. "I thought you were on a vacation, Annie. Why did you return to the company all of a sudden? Did you plan on making the company suffer from a deficit in the accounts right before the IRS audit just because you're about to switch companies? "Anyway, you're the one causing the financial loss, to begin with. That's why you must compensate the company for the loss!" Later on, Jack hired the best lawyer and took me to court, completely disregarding whatever relationship we had as employer and employee. In the end, I lost the lawsuit, which meant I had to pay double the compensation to my company. On top of that, Jack even spread the word so that no one in the same industry would hire me. After that, I sold all of my assets, yet I still couldn't gather enough money to clear the debt. So, I could only take on the grungiest and lowliest of all jobs. As I couldn't eat my fill for a long period of time while having to take on huge amounts of work, I ended up dying from exhaustion in the end.

Everyone in our neighborhood knew me as the meek full-time housewife. I had no income and no social life. Every hour of every day went to the kitchen, my child, and my hypercritical mother-in-law, Sofia Carter. Yet when I woke up, I had somehow swapped bodies with my insufferably smug husband, Kevin Carter. My phone lit up as he sent one mocking message after another: [Olivia, you act like having a baby entitles you to lie around at home all day, watch the kid, and throw together a couple of meals.] [For your information, this swap is permanent. I can finally get some rest.] [Don't run your mouth at my office. That management job is way beyond what a brain that never even made it through college can handle.] When I finished reading, I stared at the stubble-covered man in the bathroom mirror and burst into tearful laughter. He had no idea. My meekness and numbness had been bought with my health. From the day I married him, I never got more than five hours of sleep. At twenty-two, I suffered a severe hemorrhage during a difficult delivery. At twenty-four, I developed severe tendinitis. At twenty-six, after years of exhaustion and Sofia grinding me down, I was diagnosed with moderate depression. To him, I was never a wife. I was a live-in maid he didn't have to pay, someone he could take his temper out on whenever he pleased.

For three years, I had been Duncan Tohn’s executive assistant. I worked myself into the ground every day. Today, I had just finished the follow-up paperwork for an international conference when his pampered girlfriend, Morgan Eddy, cornered me in the break room. Her eyes were glistening with tears as she said she wanted me replaced. “I’m his girlfriend, and yet you’re the one who spends more than ten hours a day with him!” She bit her lip in annoyance. “From now on, he’s having a male assistant. Hand everything over.” I looked down and checked the handover list. “His personal calendar, overseas accounts, board authorizations, and the medical arrangements for the Tohn family estate, too? Has Mr. Tohn signed off on all this?” She looked at me with an arrogant expression and nodded at once. “You don’t need to ask him. He gave me signing authority, and he’s already agreed to let you go. Pack your things. You’re leaving today. Any objections?” I shook my head. I was barely holding back a laugh. “None.” I promptly printed my resignation letter and transferred administrator access for the CEO’s office. That night, I flew straight to Frostvik to see the northern lights. A month later, however, Tohn Corp’s shares went into free fall. The board held eight emergency meetings in a row. Duncan called me dozens of times before he finally got through. For the first time, he sounded almost pleading. “Come back. Name your terms.” By then, I was already in Mapleward. I was exchanging flirtatious glances with a handsome local. Distracted, I replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Tohn, I’m afraid I’m a little busy now.”

I've kicked my 28-thousand-dollar high-tech drone into the lake. In my previous life, when my company held a team-bonding session by camping out in the mountains, my colleague, Melissa Schubert's beloved pet dog—that she views as her own son—has gotten lost in the woods. With tears trickling down her cheeks, she tugs at my sleeve. "I can't live without Max! Please use your drone to look for him!" Eager to help Melissa out, I immediately power on my drone and start scouring the woods for Max. But Melissa thinks I'm being far too slow on the controller, so she snatches it from me and starts messing around with the controls. As a result, the drone spirals out of control and crashes into the woods. As soon as its battery explodes, it starts a forest fire immediately. But when faced against the police, Melissa doesn't hesitate to throw me under the bus. "Lauren was the one who kept flaunting her stupid drone! Not only did she set fire to the mountain, but she also killed my dog!" On top of having to pay a huge fire insurance claim, I also get sentenced by the court, leaving me with a criminal record. My dad is forced to work at a construction site just to help me gather the funds needed for the compensation. That's when he accidentally falls off the scaffolding, resulting in him getting paralyzed permanently. All of my relatives have also cut ties with us. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the cliffside on the day of the camping trip. This time, I don't hesitate to kick my drone into the lake. A second later, Melissa rushes to me while bawling at the top of her lungs. "My dog has gone missing! Quick, help me look for him with your drone!" I turn around to look at her. "You should be calling the police and asking a professional search-and-rescue team for help if you want to look for your dog. Why are you looking for me instead?"

When the conglomerate's heir parachutes into our company, he conveniently brings along a "poor student" he's been sponsoring for years. That afternoon, they turn the entire office upside down. The young heir, Matthew Zohart, has no idea how to handle problems. All he knows how to do is smooth things over. He lets Gracie Fowler blow through my team's entire bonus and just stands there as she throws a tantrum in the open office. "I'm the future daughter-in-law chosen by the Zohart family!" she shrieks. "What are you people, anyway? Just a bunch of office drones!" Enraged, I rip off my work badge and turn to walk out. The very next second, Matthew drops down and grabs my leg. "You can't leave! I don't know how to do anything! If the team leader who actually gets things done quits, won't my family's company collapse?"

In order to secure the five-million-dollar business deal with a major client, I end up getting hospitalized from overdrinking. On the day I get discharged, I see a text message on my department's group chat. My manager, Robert Spradlin, has tagged everyone in the group chat. "Everyone must attend the celebratory afterparty tonight. We're celebrating the fact that our department has secured the biggest deal of the year!" As I stare at the screen, I feel a hint of warmth bubbling in my heart. Even though Robert is often stingy and loves putting on airs, I'm pretty sure that this is his way of acknowledging my efforts. I specifically go home and change into new clothes. Then, I arrive at the private room right on time. The moment I open the door, I feel a blast of hot air mixed with a strong smell of spice hitting my face. It's so overwhelming that I can't help but cough violently. "Sit, sit! I've specifically ordered these dishes for you!" Kristie Madison, the newly-recruited admin, gushes. But when I take a good look at the dishes, I feel my smile freeze on my face. Spice, spice, and more spice. Kristie has ordered 20 dishes, and yet I can't even stomach every single one.

The day the company was exposed for accounting fraud, my CEO husband did the unthinkable. To protect his favorite assistant, Ivy Kane, he called a press conference and publicly pinned all the blame on me, vowing to make sure I paid the price. Ivy put on a heartbroken expression and said, "Olivia, I warned you a long time ago not to misuse company funds, let alone falsify financial records. Why wouldn't you listen?" My coworkers stared at me in shock, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smiled, accepted every accusation, and voluntarily resigned. My husband thought I had finally learned my lesson. He lowered his voice and promised, "When this is all over, I'll make sure you get your job back. And when the time comes, I'll make our relationship public. Consider it my way of making it up to you.” What he didn't know was that, to protect the company's interests, the chairman instructed me on opening day to install monitoring software on every computer in the office. The moment those system logs were retrieved, their lies would fall apart on their own. And when that happened, what awaited them wouldn't just be massive financial penalties, it would be prison.

My contract with the company is about to come to an end, and I'm already planning to renew it. But a few days before that, my boss, Dustin Kline, requested that I lower the percentage of my bonus in the project. The reason he gave is that I'm still young. Even if I were to take over other projects, I'd also do a good job. Dustin even made empty promises to me just so he could get me to give the projects I'm in charge of to Sandy Richmond, the new department manager in the company. When I refused to do so, he threatened to not give me my salary in order to get me to comply. The next day, the company is reduced to a laughing stock at the product launch event. Our client thinks the company's technological skills are too weak to back up the big talk, so they refuse to pay the remainder of the contracted sum. When Dustin begs me for help, I just look at him in amusement. "I refuse to get manipulated by anyone in this workplace. You're more than capable of dealing with your own problems. I believe in you, Mr. Kline."

A new intern at the hospital claimed that she had excellent medical skills. Even without anesthesia, her treatments never caused any pain. The truth was that she had transferred her patients’ pain to me. After she went viral, many patients rushed to the hospital to see her. Some of them even had to bid for a slot to receive surgery from her. However, I was in excruciating pain due to all the surgeries she had carried out. I could no longer work and received complaints from the patients. In the end, the hospital fired me. I gradually discovered that I even experienced some of the side effects of the surgeries she had carried out on her patients. My hair started to fall, and I became as thin as a skeleton. Even walking caused me excruciating pain. I went to the hospital to question her. Everyone thought that I was jealous of her and that I had gone crazy. She calmly put on her surgical gloves as she faced my wrath. “Please don’t make a scene. I’m about to conduct brain surgery on the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. I don’t have time for your nonsense.” After she entered the operating theater for five minutes, I suddenly suffered from an aneurysm and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had been transported back to the day when she had gone viral. I took out all my savings and bid for one of her treatment slots. “I’d like to try your painless gastroscopy.”

I'm the only daughter of the Genovese family in New York. To test my husband Jayden Henderson's competence, my Dad had me stage a surprise inspection at the company he runs. The moment I walked in, some bleach-blonde in a tight dress was staring at the shredder like she'd just discovered fire. "Oh my God, this thing is so cool. Can it literally shred anything?" She said that as she grabbed a contract off someone's desk and started feeding it in. A coworker dove across three desks to stop her: "Hazel, no! That's a million-dollar account!" "Oopsie! My bad!" She giggled, then her hand holding the cup gave a little tremor, and the whole drink splashed right onto the power switch. Sparks flew. The lights died. Twenty computers crashed simultaneously. The entire office sat in stunned, furious silence. I grabbed the nearest intern and asked who hired her. He whispered back in terror: "That's Mrs. Henderson—the CEO's wife. Word is she actually owns this company." Mr. Henderson? I speed-dialed Dad right there: "Dad, forget the inspection. Get the divorce papers ready. Jayden and I have a bone to pick."

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

At our company's tenth-anniversary party, my four childhood friends, who were also my business partners, slid a contract in front of me. "There's a serious PR crisis in Dayaka, and we need the whole team out there. "Pull this off, and we'll own this industry. "Cora, you've always been decisive. You're not going to back out just because there might be fighting, right?" Jared Blake wore his usual confident smile. Standing behind him was Faye Sterling, the illegitimate daughter the Sterling family had only recently brought home. I signed it right in front of them. As everyone cheered, Jared made me a promise. "Cora, once this is over and we're back, we'll get married." Later, I pushed open the conference room door. The projector was still hooked up to Jared's laptop, and on the screen was a group chat they'd forgotten to close. "Dayaka's settled?" "Done. One empty promise was all it took to get her to that hellhole. Now Faye can stay in Nova City and take over as senior partner, fair and square." "Jared's taking the biggest hit, though. He has to keep playing fiancé to that control freak." I stood in front of the screen, holding my files. Behind me, the door opened, and I heard the four of them laughing and talking as they crowded around their little princess. I turned around. The moment our eyes met, every smile in the room froze.

I spent a few minutes in the bathroom during work hours, and my 20,000‑dollar salary was cut down to 3,500 dollars. I went to my boss to demand an explanation. He acted fair‑minded, and every word carried sarcasm. "According to last month's security footage, you spent a total of 40 minutes in the bathroom. Don't tell me you were working there. "Five hundred dollars for every minute you spent in the bathroom. "It’s a new company policy. As a senior employee, you should set an example. Honestly, I went easy on you." I had been one of the company's key employees for ten years, and the deals I brought in had generated over 100 million dollars in revenue. Now, even my most basic rights were taken away. When I did not react, he smiled coldly. "If you don't like it, quit. You really think this company can't function without you? "And don't forget that you still have five years left on your contract. Who's going to hire you?" I did not argue with him. However, when my contract expired five days later, he was the one who panicked.

In my previous life, my brother and fiancé teamed up to sabotage my company for the sake of my so-called best friend. After I went bankrupt, they stood beside her watching me collapse in the pouring rain, laughing mockingly at my pathetic state. "Linda Turner, you look as pathetic as a drenched dog!" they sneered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding meeting three years earlier. In my previous life, when my company was just starting out, my brother and fiancé had warned me against using the Turner and Peterson family connections. They claimed it wouldn't be fair to others, but then turned around and handed projects to my best friend under various pretexts, just to see her smile. Now that I was back, I watched them secretly manipulating things just like before, giving my projects to my best friend. I finally gave up on them completely. When they found out I was leaving the country, my brother and fiancé set off fireworks all night, celebrating that they'd finally gotten rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Trada Corp's bidding meeting, I took the stage as the CEO's wife—and they couldn't hide the redness in their eyes.

The day before my wedding, my ex-boyfriend asked me to meet him in a hotel room. "I heard you're getting married," he said. "Could you meet me, just this once? There's something I need to tell you." I agreed, and that night I went to the address he gave me. But the person waiting for me wasn't him. It was my fiancé, his face like a storm cloud, and beside him, his self-satisfied childhood sweetheart, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "See, Julian, I told you she wasn't being honest with you," she said. "She's finally slipped up." My fiancé's jaw clenched. He grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. "Why?" he demanded. I lowered my eyes and answered calmly, "Because I don't want to marry you anymore. This is the eighth time you and your childhood sweetheart have tested whether my feelings for you were real. "I'm exhausted. Aren't you?"

All I did was post a photo of the exquisite pink diamond necklace my dad gave me for my birthday. An intern, however, confronted me in front of everyone. “Miss Anderson, why is my necklace with you? Do you think being a manager gives you the right to steal from others?” I calmly explained that it was a birthday gift from my dad, personally purchased at an auction. She didn’t believe me. Instead, she pulled out surveillance footage showing me entering and leaving her office and flat-out accused me of being a thief. “Some people can’t get what they want, so they resort to stealing. Do you honestly think taking a necklace means you can take over someone’s entire life? And you’re actually trying to pass yourself off as the heiress of Anderson Corporation? Isn’t that completely ridiculous?”

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?"

I got pregnant at the same time as a doctor from another department. But right after my nuchal translucency scan, the charge nurse came to see me. "The hospital is short-staffed. Leadership says only one female employee can be pregnant at a time." "This time, the slot goes to Dr. Valerie Stone. You need to terminate yours." I froze. "Dr. Stone and I aren't even in the same department. Our work doesn't overlap. "And I'm a nurse. She's a doctor. Our schedules are completely different." But the charge nurse only tapped stubbornly on my desk. "This is hospital policy. No one gets to be the exception. "Either you terminate the pregnancy, or you transfer to logistics. Your choice." A transfer to logistics meant my career would be over. No promotions. No clinical path. Just a rock-bottom base salary, barely above minimum wage. My fingers slowly tightened. I had worked at that hospital for eight years. I was one of the hardest-working nurses on the front line, and I won performance awards every year. Yet I was not even allowed to be pregnant. I took a breath and looked calmly at the charge nurse. "I agree to transfer to logistics." Less than a week after I left, the whole department fell apart.

The Nebula Algorithm I spent countless sleepless nights building single-handedly saved the company’s flagship project. Yet, when the annual promotion list came out, my name was nowhere to be found. Instead, a man named Julian Monroe, who had joined the company less than a month earlier, skipped several ranks to become my direct supervisor. When I marched into my boss Sebastian Carter’s office to ask why, he lashed out at me without hesitation. “You really think a community college graduate like you can compete with a master’s graduate from an elite overseas university?” I clenched my fists, raising my voice to fight back. “The employee handbook clearly states that engineering promotions are strictly performance-based, regardless of your degree!” He pointed a finger right at my nose, his eyes filled with unyielding disdain. “Rules are rigid, but people aren’t. “A community college graduate like you should be down on your knees thanking God for the base salary this company throws your way! “Know your place. This company will keep spinning just fine without you!” I turned around and handed in my resignation letter on the spot, taking my core algorithm with me. I couldn’t wait to see just how long his company would last without me, the “community college graduate.”

I was the A-list celebrity in the country, the youngest actor ever to win all three major acting awards, and the man Monroe family's heiress treasured above everyone else. Zara Monroe had not only founded a talent agency dedicated to promoting me alone, but had even set aside her status as the heiress of the Monroe family to work as my personal assistant for love. Everyone in the industry knew that crossing me meant crossing the Monroe family. Yet no one could have imagined that in the latest S-tier film production, the male lead I had been all but guaranteed to play would be snatched away by an obscure actor barely known beyond the industry's bottom tier. People across the industry all placing bets on how long it would take before Zara had this newcomer, Kyson Bentley, blacklisted across the entire industry. But instead of a public takedown, they got an official announcement from Monroe Media. [Welcome to our company's second signed artist, @Kyson Bentley! Mr. Bentley will be partnering with Monroe Media from here on out. His future is full of promise.] The entire industry was shaken. Everyone mocked me for having fallen out of favor. The award-winning actor himself was now expected to play second fiddle to a newcomer. On set, I watched Kyson deliver a painfully amateurish performance. My face cold, I followed the and slapped him using a camera angle that made it look as though I had hit him. But Kyson clutched his cheek and fell to the ground, accusing me of using the scene to get revenge on him. Zara ordered her people to pin me down and made the production team add a hundred more slapping scenes to my schedule. By the time they were done, I had been slapped until I lost my hearing in my right ear. My face was so swollen that I was barely recognizable.