Cerita Pendek & Novel Feel-Good Story Workplace

After I secured a billion-dollar partnership for Horizon Ventures, the sales department celebrated with an afternoon tea spread where everyone got to choose their own order. When it was my turn, the new hire, Jessica Osborne, suddenly cut in. "Chicken sandwiches for the rest of them. No need to order anything else." I ignored her and calmly told the admin clerk, "I’ll have a slice of chocolate cake." The next second, Jessica slammed the menu right across my face and glared at me furiously. "I said no, so you don’t get to order. Who do you think you are? A princess?" The hard menu left a stinging red mark across my face, and a surge of anger flared up inside me. Without hesitating, I grabbed the menu and hurled it right back at her face. Jessica immediately shrieked and roared at me, "Do you have any idea who I am?! My dad is Royce Osborne, the biggest client this company has! Even our CEO, Emily Hopkins, treats me with respect. How dare you lay a hand on me? Believe it or not, I can get your $600,000 bonus canceled and have you blacklisted from this entire industry!" I froze. Royce Osborne's my maternal uncle. He’s forty, famously single, and has never been married. When exactly did he have such a grown-up daughter?

I lead my team to develop a new drug formula that passed its first clinical trial. It becomes the key to the company's IPO. So, the board votes unanimously to award me an additional 5% in shares. But at the celebration party, my shares turn into three hams. I assume it is a prank by my colleagues. But to my surprise, Draco Faraday looks at me with disgust and says, "Don't think I don't know. You used your position as team leader to assign all the experimentation to Avery. Then, you take the credit for the results. This reward should go to her. As for you, you should be satisfied with the ham!" Seeing Avery Blake looking both flattered and overwhelmed, I am rendered speechless. I argue, "Avery is an art major. Does she even understand chemical formulas?" Draco's expression darkens. "Cross-disciplinary expertise is her strength, not a weakness. I won't argue with you this time. If it happens again, I'll fire you!” When I try to defend myself, he snaps, "Starting today, Avery is the team leader. You should get a taste of how it feels to be exploited." I look at him in disbelief for a moment before nodding forcefully with a sneer. "Fine. From now on, I won't assist if the projects run into any issues. Don't regret it." Draco looks at Avery approvingly."The only thing I regret is not making Avery the person in charge sooner."

All eighteen of my assistants got pregnant at the same time, and every one of them demanded that I take responsibility. I was certain I had never touched any of them, yet they stood together on the rooftop, threatening to jump unless I acknowledged their babies. Left with no choice, I livestreamed amniocentesis tests to prove my innocence. The results showed that I was the biological father of all eighteen unborn children. My wife slapped me again and again, calling me a cheating bastard and forcing me to divorce her with nothing. I went to drink with my best friend and pour out my misery, only for him to kick me so hard that he broke eight of my ribs. “Daniel Cooper, you sick bastard! You slept with every woman you could get your hands on! I hate trash like you who can’t keep it in their pants!” I fled back to my hometown to seek comfort from my parents, but before I could say much, they beat me to death with their hoes. Even as I died, I could not understand why all eighteen assistants had been carrying my children. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the assistants forced me to acknowledge the babies.

During the Thanksgiving gathering, I win first prize and get a bonus of 500 dollars. My boss, Michelle Wagner, generously doubles it. In the end, I get one thousand dollars. Then, my coworker, Caleb Clinton, and Michelle start egging me on to treat everyone to a meal. They basically force me to pay for the company's Thanksgiving gathering. If I refuse, Caleb says he will cut ties with me, and Michelle threatens to fire me. I have no choice but to agree under their pressuring. In the end, I pay an extra 100 thousand dollars out of my own pocket. After I settle the bill, they abandon the drunken me on the roadside, where I freeze to death. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day of the Thanksgiving gathering.

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

During our company's Black Friday sale, an intern took it upon herself to change "Spend $300, save $50" to "Spend $300, save $350." In my previous life, I was the Director of E-commerce Operations. I shut down the servers immediately and stopped the company from bleeding nearly ten million dollars. At the year-end party, the intern stood in front of everyone with tears in her eyes, playing the victim. "Erin, all I wanted to do was drive user acquisition through a loss-leader growth hack!" "Customers would have come back to repurchase after getting the discount. Who gave you the right to cut off the company's revenue by killing the servers?" She posted a viral thread on Instagram: Gen Z Takes on the Workplace: How My Outdated Boss Sabotaged My Brilliant Idea. Strangers doxxed me and came after me in waves. I left the company due to depression. Eventually, her mob of rabid followers drove me off the edge of a roof. Now I've been given a second chance. When the intern points to the promo page that's about to go live and asks me: "Erin, does my Black Friday campaign look good to you?" "It doesn't just look good. This is the textbook definition of a viral growth hack!" I turn around, grab the documents, and announce over the company-wide PA system. "Cassie has personally guaranteed this campaign with her own and her boyfriend's credit history, signing a full liability agreement to cover any losses. Let's give her a hand, everyone!"

At one in the morning, the general manager posted the project assignments in the group chat and tagged everyone. I reviewed my responsibilities carefully, going through each detail to make sure I understood exactly what was expected of me. When I was done, I typed a simple "OK" and hit send. Two seconds later, my phone rang. It was him. As soon as I answered, his voice came through, icy and sharp, filled with unmistakable disgust. "Eric, I'm very disappointed in you. I must have been blind to trust you with anything important." My mind went completely blank. "What… what do you mean?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. What he said next was something I never could have imagined.

"You guys know what the situation is like in this industry this year. I need to cut our end-of-the-year bonus by half in order to overcome this difficult period." My boss, Peter Hurley, claims that things are difficult in the industry right now, yet his wrist still showcases the luxury watch that he's just bought. My 20,000-dollar bonus is reduced to 700 dollars. In addition, I also received a plaque that says "Award for Outstanding Contribution". "This plaque is worth a lot, Soren. It represents the acknowledgement this company has for you. Don't be so petty when it comes to money." As I stare at the plaque in my hand, I can't help but scoff furiously. "Fine. I won't be that petty when it comes to money. I hope you won't be that petty either when you're paying next month's rent." Peter is stunned momentarily. "What do you mean by that?" I toss the plaque into the trash can. "What I mean is, I'm the landlord of this building. From next month onward, the rent will be increased ten times. If you refuse to accept the new rent, you can pack up and scram."

The company manager, Elton Baldwin, wants to promote my best friend, Lacey Donnovan, at work. In my past life, I, Giselle Ashford, told Lacey not to accept his offer. But after she realized that someone else got promoted in her place and even doubled her salary overnight, Lacey got extremely jealous. She conspired with her boyfriend, Xavier Pugh, to push me off the top of a building, cursing at me and saying, "You jealous bitch! You've always hated seeing me do well, and now you cost me such a good opportunity!" When I open my eyes again, I realize that my world is no longer a shattered one with crimson blood in my eyes. Instead, Lacey's inquisitive face appears before me. She asks, "What do you think, Giselle? Do you think I should grab this opportunity?"

My company let employees clock paid hours while petting the office cats, take unlimited vacation, and skip the time clock altogether. For a while, people called us a dream company. Then one of my employees posted online and accused the whole thing of being a kindness trap. He filmed the office as if it were paradise, but the caption told a different story: [Don't envy us. All of this was bought with our low pay and our youth.] The post went viral, and overnight, I became the fake-nice boss who bled his employees dry behind a mask of small kindnesses. The entire internet told my employees to run. Fine. I let them. I rolled out a new policy. Effective immediately, every flexible benefit and every trace of humane management was gone. The company entered an era of standardized management. From then on, KPIs would have the final word. The cats were banned from the office. Leave requests required layer after layer of approval. Strict KPIs meant a single bad number could cost employees part of their pay. Before long, the same employees who had torn me apart online showed up at my door and begged me to give them the dream company back.

On the first work day after the holidays, Samuel Cooper, the department director, suddenly corners me at my workplace with an HR executive and two security guards. "Levi Young, you are fired! Now, hand over your work badge!" I frown instantly at Samuel. As I look at the growing crowd, I reply calmly, "Mr. Cooper, are you burning bridges now?" The Christmas holidays have lasted for nine days. But I'm the only one who has been working throughout the holidays. As soon as work starts after the holidays, Samuel wants to fire me right away. Samuel huffs coldly at me. "You leaked the company's core secrets! The fact that I'm not demanding compensation from you shows how kind-hearted I am! How dare you proclaim your so-called grievances before me!" "I… leaked the company's secrets?" I've been working at this company for five years. Sure, I've managed countless projects, but I have never made any mistakes as well. The sight of my stunned expression makes Samuel scoff in return. "That's enough. Cut it with the act! The security camera in the office has recorded everything clearly! On the night of Christmas Eve, you recited a long string of numbers and alphabets into your phone! What else could it be other than an encrypted message?" I'm left feeling flabbergasted for a few more seconds before realization dawns on me. The thing is… I was sharing the Wi-Fi password to a stray at the company that night!

Three days before Thanksgiving, our admin manager, Simon Brant, handed me an envelope containing 100 dollars in cash. On the front, he'd written, "Thanksgiving Employee Gift Budget." A few minutes later, he posted a message in the company-wide group chat. "I've given Leo Timbrell from Admin the Thanksgiving gift budget. If anyone has any special requests, please direct them to him." In my previous life, I took that 100 dollars and spent days hunting for deals to make Thanksgiving gift baskets for over 200 employees. When I went over budget, I even chipped in another 600 dollars from my own savings to make sure everyone got something good. Unfortunately, none of that mattered after the gifts were given out because everyone started complaining instead of thanking me. "Seriously? This is all we get?" "Wow, the company's really cheaping out this year." "I bet someone in Admin pocketed the rest of the money." I tried to explain that Simon had only given me 100 dollars. However, he stepped forward before anyone could listen, exclaiming in disbelief, "What? I gave you 10 grand!" And just like that, everyone believed I'd stolen the money. I'd spent thousands of my own money trying to do something kind for my coworkers, only to be called a thief. The company sued me. Nobody believed a word I said, no matter how hard I tried to prove my innocence. I ended up in prison, where I was bullied and eventually beaten to death. And the worst part? Simon and his wife laughed about it behind my back. "That 10 grand covered a nice chunk of our mortgage," his wife tittered. Simon laughed. "It's not my fault the idiot was dumb enough to accept the cash." Now that I was given a second chance, I wasn't going to make the same mistake again. As soon as Simon gave me the envelope, I took photos of the cash, the envelope, and his handwriting. Then, I posted the pictures in the company-wide group chat and tagged everyone before he could slander me. "Mr. Brant, I just want to let you know that I've received the Thanksgiving employee gift budget. The total amount is 100 dollars in cash." Then, I sent one more message right after that. "We've got 235 employees this year. Does anyone have any special requests for their Thanksgiving gifts this year?"

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had barely been wheeled out of surgery when she was rushed straight into the ER again. Then, a newly posted video from an intern went viral. In it, the intern held a scalpel and sliced open my mother-in-law's abdomen, while the surgeon who was supposed to be leading the operation, my husband, was nowhere in sight. 'People say an intern has no business being in the operating room? That's all right. My man, the department head, indulges me.' My husband's coworkers reacted warmly, saying the two of them made quite a pair. I forwarded the video to the hospital director without hesitation. … Before long, my husband called. His breathing came hard and uneven, his voice breaking between words. "I forgot your birthday. Big deal. Did you really have to run to the director and accuse me of breaking hospital rules? I'm done with you and your ridiculous tantrums. Even if my mom takes your side this time, I'm still divorcing you." He hung up before I could say a word. What he didn't know was that his mother would never take my side again. Because the patient who hemorrhaged and died after being operated on by that intern was his mother.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband—Don Enzo Cavina—suddenly put a motion before the family council: The Donna would be barred from taking part in family affairs. “One vote in favor.” “Two.” “Three.” The motion passed unanimously. Being forced off the council just as I completed seven years meant the family no longer had to honor its promise to grant me the twenty-percent stake that was about to vest. I had been reduced to nothing more than an appendage to the Don. My fingertips turned cold, but my gaze remained steady as it swept over every face around the long table. “Why?” Jack was the first to stand. “You’re nothing but an outsider who married into this family, yet you’ve controlled the port, the banks, and the union for seven years. Who knows how much you’ve skimmed for yourself?” James sneered. “If we let you take twenty percent, sooner or later, the Cavina family will become the Medici family.” I turned to my husband, Don Enzo, seated at the head of the table. “Is that really what you think?” Enzo came to me and pulled me into his arms. “You’ve given seven years of your life to this family. I just can’t bear to watch the council drain you any longer.” “You won’t have to sit through these pointless meetings anymore. But you will always be my wife.” Without a seat on the council, I had no say in any decision. But the Cavinas couldn’t manage their dealings with the Five Families without me. So that was it. They still expected me to bear every risk—they just didn’t want to give me the share I had earned. I smiled, slipped off my wedding ring and family badge, and slapped them both onto the long table. Three days later, Enzo came to me with every elder who had voted for the motion. Together, they knelt before me, begging the “outsider who did nothing but steal everyone else’s credit” to come back and save them.

The day my parents skipped town with my younger sister, Tiana Miller, they used me as collateral to pay off their debts. "The kid's got a screw loose," my mother told the debt collectors, gesturing dismissively toward me. "Always hugging books and mumbling nonsense like an idiot. Take her if you want her. If not, sell her for all I care." Tiana's bright, cheerful laughter drifted up from the stairwell. "Mom, isn't Sylvia coming with us?" "Be a good girl. We're leaving her behind." I had heard those words a million times. Ever since Tiana was born, everyone in our house revolved around her. When I ran over just to take a look at the baby, my mother shoved me away. "Don't touch your sister. Your hands are filthy." From that moment on, I was the extra piece nobody wanted. When the loan shark kicked my front door open, he found me huddled in the corner reading a massive textbook on criminal law. "Kid, your parents bolted," the boss sneered, looking down at me. "How do you plan to pay off their debt?" I calmly closed the book. "Mister, I analyzed the voice recordings of your strong-arm collection tactics. “Twelve parts of them can easily be argued down to civil disputes. If you follow my strategy, you can avoid prison time entirely." He froze. In less than an hour, I broke down their past three years of criminal records piece by piece and drafted legal loopholes for them. The heavily tattooed kingpin assistant, Hanks Phil, stared at the paperwork, his jaw dropping before he let out a sharp curse. "I've been in the underworld for twenty-six damn years, and today's the first time I'm learning you can actually collect debts legally.”

Last night, I got my layoff notice. The official excuse? Too old, under-educated, and holding the team back. This morning, HR pulled me aside with a sympathetic sigh. "Look, Gina, you really pissed off the wrong person this time." I followed her gaze across the floor of Brown Media. Two weeks ago. Catherine Chase, the CEO’s niece, dropped into the sales department with a squad of her college buddies, branding themselves the "Elite Youth Squad." Yesterday, I rejected her project proposal. Catching my eye, Catherine smirked. "Some aging, uneducated women should just stick to being housewives. Save yourself the embarrassment." I didn't argue. I just signed the severance paper in silence. What she didn't realize was that I never needed Brown Media. They begged me to stay. Before walking out, I posted a simple status update… “Officially resigned. Let the fun begin.” Within seconds, my phone blew up.

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

At a family dinner, Don Vincenzo’s new pet, a dancer named Ava, came for me. She puffed out her chest and slammed a ledger on the long table. “Vincenzo, I accuse her! Skimming from the family business, our club ‘The Siren’s Song.’ Betraying the family!” Every eye in the room turned on me, sharp as knives. But Vincenzo, my boss… his face went hard. I almost pitied the little dancer who’d crawled her way out of Brooklyn. The “family business” she was talking about? It was my private club. A gift from my father. I just lent it to Vincenzo when he was starting out, to give him a respectable front. I lent it to him for two years, and now it’s family property?

My husband, Landon Hart, lost a truth-or-dare round, so he carries out the punishment by making out passionately with his secretary, Amelia Colton, in my car. They've gone so far as to leave stains of their coupling on my son's booster seat. After Amelia sends me the video clip of them making out, I forward it to Landon right away. "Are you about to file for bankruptcy, Mr. Hart? What, are you only capable of cheating on me in my car?" Landon sends me an audio message. His tone carries a hint of satisfaction—clearly, he's done having his fun. "This is just a business alliance between us. Do you seriously think I'm your actual husband? It's just a dare! What, are you too prim and proper for games now?" I just chortle coldly in return. Well then, I'll make Landon understand that he should pay the price for doing something he's not supposed to do.