Scumbag Workplace Short Stories & Novels

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

After five years in a secret relationship with my boss, Eric handed my hard work to his childhood sweetheart, Shelly. Suddenly, they were the perfect power couple. And me? Just the girl he kept hidden. He never even looked my way. So why was I still holding on? One phone call later, I was done. Time to leave—and see what else was out there.

My fiancé's secretary had my wedding ring remade into a Hello Kitty trinket. When I confronted her, she twisted the truth with shameless arrogance, insisting that my wedding was hers to decide. I turned to my fiancé for support, only to have him dismiss me as petty and unworthy of being his bride. Together, they ridiculed and humiliated me, unaware that their families' power and future all depended on me. When my superior stepped in, their mockery collapsed in the face of truth. My fiancé fell to his knees, begging me to honor our engagement. But I cast him aside without hesitation, breaking off the marriage and leaving him with nothing.

Giselle Shaw, the intern, has sent a five-dollar bonus to the company's group chat that has 500 members in it. I get crowned as the luckiest person for being able to claim 20 cents from the bonus. So, Giselle tags me in the group chat immediately. "Hey Rebecca! Since you're the luckiest person in the group chat, why don't you send a bonus here? There are 500 people in this group chat altogether, so you can just send 5,000 dollars here. "5,000 dollars isn't much for you, right? It so happens to be the bonus you've received from Mr. Gallagher because of the project you've secured. You can send us the bonus so that we can get some good luck from you!" The moment I refuse, Giselle begins playing the pity card in the group chat by claiming that she can't reap good luck for everyone in the company. My boyfriend, Vincent Gallagher, rushes into my office and starts berating me angrily. "Rebecca Campbell, just how stingy are you to not want to send a five-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat despite being a higher-up in this company? You even made a young woman cry! Is this how you do things? "You'd better send a 50-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat right now and write a five-thousand-word apology letter by hand! I want you to sincerely apologize to Giselle as well! Otherwise, I'll break up with you! You can forget about retaining your position in this company, too!"

My husband's adopted younger sister, Shannon Carter, is a food vlogger. When she was recording a video at a restaurant, not only did she demand the customers stay silent, but she also impersonated me when she began insulting everyone else. "Shut up, you poor freaks! Especially you, kid! I'm Rina, a YouTuber with over tens of millions of fans! One of my live streams alone earns me more than whatever you can earn in a lifetime! Can you even pay me enough to compensate me for the disturbance you've caused me?" In my previous life, Shannon told me that she wanted to become a YouTuber as well, so she borrowed my smurf account from me and tried exploring restaurants on her own. But she impersonated me right away and lashed out at the family sitting at the next table just because they were laughing a little too loudly. In the heat of the moment, she even got into a physical brawl with them. As a result, Shannon shoved the little girl down the stairs, causing the latter to crash her head. That poor girl ended up suffering from permanent blindness. Shannon tossed 5,000 dollars in the ER arrogantly. "Impoverished bastards like that girl will only grow up as drug addicts or prostitutes. So what if she goes blind? She has no future anyway!" The girl's family couldn't take it anymore. They rallied their entire clan and came to my company. There, they had me completely surrounded. "That Rina influencer is right here! She's the one who caused my daughter to go blind!" In the end, the family pushed me down the stairs. Since that wasn't enough for them, they vented their anger on me by hacking me to death with their weapons. As for Shannon, not only did she inherit my YouTube account, but she also married Mark Tanner, my husband. Every day, she got to spend my assets as much as she wanted. Only then did I finally realize that this was their scheme all along.

First day back in the office. I was face down at my desk during lunch when the desk next to mine started rattling under a series of hard knocks. I looked up. It was the firm's new architect, Flora Reeves. "Lunch time ended five minutes ago. You're still asleep at your desk? Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're fired!" I told her I had just come back from a client meeting. I had been pulling all-nighters on the project for a week. She looked at me like I was something on her shoe. "All you do is take clients out, drink with them, and scribble a few sketches. "You don't even punch in. You're barely in the office. What gives you the right to nap at your desk during work hours?" I almost laughed in her face! I was the firm's chief architect. The bulk of the projects on Walsh & Co.'s books had my name on them. The firm's success was, frankly, carried by me. She saw me out of the office most days. She did not see me in another city, on another job site, talking down another client. And in our industry, most of those clients had hired Walsh & Co. because of my name and reputation. I kept my composure. "You're not in HR. On what authority are you firing me?" She said, "On the authority that my husband is the president of this company." I went still. When did my boyfriend get married?

My executive boyfriend, Marcus Winters, had always wanted the regional president seat. Then his favorite protégée, Sophie Moresby, complained that I always got the spotlight, and he deliberately sabotaged my car. The crash broke both my hands, leaving me unable to compete in the design contest that could decide the board vote. He handed my entry slot to Sophie and expected me to accept it quietly. When I confronted him, he said it was only one competition and that, as design director, I should give younger employees a chance. To prove his "fairness," he stripped me of my director title and docked six months of my pay to compensate the team. Everyone waited for me to fight back. Instead, I nodded, calm and silent. Marcus was pleased. He promised that once his promotion came through, he would restore my position and publicly announce our relationship. I smiled coldly and told him we were done. I had already submitted my resignation. What Marcus did not know was that the board and I had made a private agreement: if I won the championship and secured the decisive vote, the person I named would become regional president. I had been preparing to name him. Now he had not only replaced me with Sophie, but also encouraged her to submit a fraudulent design. Once the contest ended, the only thing waiting for him was termination, a ruined career, and a bill he could never afford.

One drunk night with my best friend's brother, Eddie Sutton, and I became his secret girlfriend. Eight years later, my family finally snapped. They gave me a deadline and lined up a guy for me to marry. "Eddie, my family gave me a deadline. I have to get married this year." He went quiet, then kissed my forehead. Same old answer. "Just wait a little longer." Not long after, I found a post from his intern, Gina Yapp. The photo was of her and Eddie's marriage license. Caption: [CEO secured.] What I couldn't get in eight years, she got in three months. I swallowed the bitterness and hit Like. Then I commented: [Congrats. Wishing you both a happy life.] After that, I accepted the wedding date my family had set. My phone rang. For the first time, Eddie sounded scared. "Don't take it the wrong way. I only got the license with Gina because I lost a bet with my friends—" I cut him off. "Eddie, I'm getting married."

To everyone else, Helen Hart was just Ronin Dudley's ignored, pregnant wife. In reality, she was a world-class interpreter who could dominate any international negotiation. Ronin Dudley thought the $50,000 she owed him would keep her trapped forever. Kelly Choney thought a few social media posts could ruin her. They were both wrong. With one bank card, Helen paid off the debt that had chained her down for years. With one divorce agreement, she ended a five-year marriage. She wanted no money. No excuses. And no love that came too late. When Ronin finally learned the truth, he fell apart. "I got revenge for you!" Helen smiled. "You're the one I hate most." Only after she stepped into the spotlight, shining brighter than ever, did he realize what he'd destroyed with his own hands. Not just his wife. His only shot at redemption.

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.

Three years into our marriage, my husband, Derek, confessed that he'd met his true love. He sat across from me, eyes brimming with sincerity. "I was too young back then. You were the only person I ever dated, and I rushed into marriage. "It wasn't until I met Vivian that I understood what real love is. "Just sign the divorce papers already. Set me free." I glanced at the scar on his temple. Without a word, I signed the papers.

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."

At the party celebrating the multimillion-dollar deal I've landed, my husband, Nick Ferguson, is about to announce my promotion and raise, but Ruby Holm, his secretary, deliberately interrupts him by feeding him her drink. My germaphobic husband doesn't even flinch. Without thinking, he puts the straw she has just used into his mouth. The employees immediately start teasing them, asking when they're getting married. Instead of denying it, Nick promotes Ruby to department manager. A coworker nudges my elbow. "Chloe, you've been with Mr. Ferguson for ten years. You're really not going to say anything?" I let out a cold laugh and toss my equity transfer agreement to Ruby. "Mr. Ferguson, don't be so stingy. A promotion isn't enough. Take these shares too. Consider them my wedding gift to the two of you!"

At a major press conference, my husband, Julian Winslow, is about to publicly introduce me as the love of his life when his young assistant suddenly walks onto the stage carrying a girl. "Go on, sweetheart. Daddy's calling for you." The room erupts. Reporters start firing questions about Julian's relationship with his assistant, but instead of correcting them, Julian simply takes the little girl into his arms and fastens the company's multimillion-dollar new necklace around her neck. "Yes," he says. "We have a daughter." As I stand silently in the crowd, the reporters turn their attention to me. "Ms. Aldridge, you've been with Mr. Winslow and the company for years. Surely you have something to say on such a special occasion?" I smile. Then I take the designs I spent an entire year perfecting and toss them straight into the assistant's hands. "You can have the designs too. Consider them my gift to your happy little family."

Lately, Chloe Dunham has been posting photos on social media of late-night meals sent by an anonymous admirer. She was the only single one in our trio of best friends, so I was always the first to like her posts. But whenever I saw the hand-drawn doodles on the meal boxes, I couldn't shake the feeling that they looked exactly like the work of my boyfriend, Jacob Aniston. Chloe once flicked me on the forehead and teased me. "You jealous little thing. Don't go making up stories. The three of us have been friends since we were kids. If Jacob and I were ever going to fall for each other, we'd have gotten together ages ago." I rubbed my forehead and laughed, then let the matter go. That was until the station assigned Jacob and me to cover a typhoon from the front lines, and Chloe insisted on coming along to deliver supplies. Then the levee breached. The three of us ended up stranded atop a swaying communications tower as the floodwaters rose around us. When the water reached our waists, Jacob raised his microphone and faced the camera. He told viewers across the country that this might be his last broadcast. Then he reached out, pulled Chloe in front of the camera, and wrapped the only raincoat around her. "If I have to die, I have no regrets as long as I'm with you. Everyone, you don't need to wait for the next report. Right now, I want to protect the person I care about most." The livestream flooded with messages of congratulations as they held each other and cried. Meanwhile, I huddled in the corner, my lips purple from the cold. I didn't even have the strength to say another word. After the water level finally dropped and the rescue team pulled us to safety, I shook the mud from my clothes and opened the back door of the rescue vehicle. "Don't overthink it. Chloe's physically weaker than you. I was just afraid she'd get hurt," Jacob said.