Cerita Pendek & Novel Feel-Good Story Workplace

I'm the top salesperson at a tutoring center. Payday comes, and my commission is 50 cents. I'm so furious that I march straight to my boss to demand answers, but his secretary, Sasha Watson, steps in front of me. She digs through her pocket, pulls out 50 cents, and flicks it straight at my face in front of everyone. "Here's your 50 cents!" My ears ring. Heat crawls up my neck and into my skull. "Ms. Watson, this has to be a mistake. I closed 1.5 million dollars on my own last month. My team pulls in over three million dollars. My commission should be at least 200 grand." Sasha rolls her eyes. She reaches into her wallet, pulls out a dollar bill, and slaps it against my cheek. "Stop barking! Fine, I'll throw you a dollar. Keep the change!" I'm about to lose it. "My mom is still waiting on that 200 grand for her surgery. Without it, she could die." The coworkers around us start whispering. "50 cents? For the top salesperson? That's insane!" "Lower your voice. She's the boss's niece! What she says goes. Unless you want to get fired, pretend you didn't hear anything." I turn away, pull out my phone, and dial our biggest competitor. "I'm in. Five million dollars a year."

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.

I'm Brixton's most notorious spoiled heiress. All because I refuse to back down in a feud with my nemesis, I keep raising my bids at the auction, making sure no one can outbid me. Dad is so furious that he cuts off my cards and throws me into the family business to experience real life. On my first day at work, the department happens to be doing a thorough cleanup. I stare at the spin mop, genuinely baffled. "How do you wring this thing out?" Sandy Melville, another intern who started at the same time as me, gives me a condescending look. "Seriously? In this day and age, there are still people who don't even know how to use a mop? If you're going to put on airs, at least have some common sense." "Mariam does all this stuff at home," I explain, releasing the mop. "I've never had to do it myself." Soft snickers immediately ripple through the room. A few colleagues exchange looks, shaking their heads or smiling in disdain. "Girl, I get it. You're one of those fallen heiresses who thinks she's the main character in a rags-to-riches story and wants to reform the workplace." "Can you stop binge-reading those trashy billionaire romance novels? Sandy is Mr. Melville's daughter, and even she doesn't put on airs like you do." I say nothing. Instead, I turn and walk into the break room, pull out my phone, and call Mom. "Mom, I think Dad might have another daughter out there."

For three years, I used my family's mob ties and my own money to pave the way for Declan's crew. He was the boy I survived the streets with as a kid. But at this month's sit-down, his newly hired secretary, Roxy, tossed my casino ledgers and club records onto the table in front of all the guys. She accused me of skimming profits and slacking off. "These underground banks, these smuggling docks," she read the numbers out loud, her voice full of fake outrage. "Every time she bribes someone, she skims thousands of dollars! She's lining her own pockets." "I say the Boss strips her of her club manager title right now to save our cash flow." I glanced at Declan, the boss of the crew. He knew better than anyone what that missing money actually paid for. He knew how much dock security it covered. He knew how many nods of approval it bought from politicians and cops. He also knew what I was doing when I wasn't at the club. I was making deals with dangerous gun runners. I was drinking hard liquor to secure guns and ammo for his boys. But he just stared at me coldly. "Katerina, do you have anything to say about these ledgers and the proof Roxy just showed us?" I smiled. "I have nothing to explain." Very soon, all of them would find out exactly what happens when you pull a stunt like this on a Principessa's turf.

I owned a taco shop for twenty years. The entire street was crowded because of my shop. After the SATs were over, I wanted to give a 20% discount to the seniors who were graduating on my new taco flavor, but my meat supplier sent me a notice. [Due to the high temperatures, the cost of transporting frozen goods has increased. Effective today, the price of raw ingredients will increase by 30%.] [Items are available on a first-come, first-served basis due to limited quantities.] It was the third time he had increased the price this year. Immediately after, my landlord and vegetable supplier also increased their prices as though they had discussed this in advance. I was furious as I questioned them, but all of them gave me the same answer. “Your profit on your new taco menu is high! We also need to benefit!” I was trembling in anger. I went back to my hometown and sent them a group text message. [From now on, I don’t need you to supply any materials to me. I also won’t be renting the place anymore!]

It's my fifth year working at my relative's factory after giving up a high-paying job. I'm in the middle of helping the administrative staff clear out the printer when I accidentally catch a glimpse of the new clerk's payslip—Base Salary: 6,500 dollars. I freeze right on the spot. Five years ago, I've turned down two high-paying offers and joined Dad's younger brother, Liam Graham's, factory. Back then, he patted me on the shoulder and said, "We're family. I'll never shortchange you." I believe him. However, it's been five years, and my salary is still the same five grand I started with. Every single time I ask for a raise, Uncle Liam cries poverty, claiming that the factory isn't doing well. My girlfriend breaks up with me, saying my salary makes it impossible for her to see a future. I pull the weight of three people and pour my heart into training the newcomers, only to find out a new hire is making 1,500 dollars more than me. I jeer out of sheer exasperation and hand in my resignation to Uncle Liam. "Why?" he asks in shock. "The pay is terrible. There's no career progression. I can't do this anymore!"

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.

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 I resign from my job as a forensic pathologist and return to my rural hometown to enjoy a laidback, leisurely life, I feel totally at peace. In contrast, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Jessica Lester, starts panicking for real. She keeps begging me to stay. "Dr. Gardner, even though you're not that talented, I still hope you can stand beside me and speak up for those who have died unjustly!" I roll my eyes coolly and leave without looking back. In my previous life, Jessica is an intern put under my care. But every time we conduct an autopsy, she watches from the side but somehow manages to describe the victim's experiences before death ahead of me. She even uses wording that is identical to what I am thinking. I cannot make sense of it. In later autopsies, I give everything and go all out to prove myself, but even when she is not present, she can still iterate my findings at length. From then on, everyone idolizes her. Meanwhile, I become a laughingstock even if I am the most authoritative forensic expert in the state. Later on, the enraged family members of victims come to my doorstep every day. They lambast me and say that I am unworthy of being a forensic pathologist. They eventually set my house on fire, and I die miserably in the flames. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day I take Jessica to her first autopsy.

Immediately after picking up my new Porsche Panamera, I took a photo of the steering wheel and uploaded it to my Instagram. Less than two minutes later, the female manager from the department next to mine, Quinn Zote, began to bombard me with a slew of questions. "You're driving such a luxurious car? Can you even afford the upkeep?" "That car sits too low. Men are likely to get in accidents driving it, and if all that bouncing around ruins your prostate, how are you supposed to carry on the family line?" "Bring me the car key right this instant. It just so happens that I need to use a car tonight!" Completely dumbfounded, I was only able to retort with a "Is there something wrong with you?" before Quinn called me. She screamed angrily over the line, "You're just an insignificant little employee, so why should you drive a luxury car? After we marry, you have to transfer that car over to my name! "I'm warning you, if you ruin your body with all that bouncing around and can't get me pregnant, I'm going to divorce you, and you'll leave with nothing to your name! Now, I'm giving you ten minutes to drive that car over here to the office building. Otherwise, I'm going to deduct your attendance bonus for this month!" I could hardly contain my furious laughter at her outrageous behavior. After hanging up, I immediately sent a recording of the call to the "Executive Inspection" group chat my father set up. Along with it, I sent a message that read, "Is this woman really a member of the upper management at your branch company?"

A Rage Curse swept through the werewolf world. Only an Alpha strong enough to fight it could keep his throne. I was Alpha Liam’s personal alchemist. For nine years, I brewed "Serenity," the only potion that held back his curse. I dragged his pack, Silverclaw, from a back-alley crew to a pharma empire. I turned him from a rabid dog into a king. Liam promised me the Chief Alchemist title. He promised me millions in profit sharing the day the potion went public. But on his coronation day, he gave it all to Chloe, a she-wolf who’d just joined the pack. All because she was high-born. The perfect face for the pack's new image. And me? I was just a lowly Omega. I confronted him. He crushed me with his Alpha aura. "You're an Omega. Be grateful I even let you stay. Without me, rogues would've torn you to shreds by now!" I walked out before he could throw me out. We’ll see who gets torn to shreds first. But I know one thing. Without my potion, that power he's so proud of... will turn him back into the rabid animal he truly is.

On my first day at work, I received a carpool notice. [I'm three weeks pregnant and the company is quite far from my home.] [After verification, your car exceeds 400,000 dollars and has been on the road for less than a year. It meets my vehicle requirements.] [From now on, you will be responsible for sending me to and from work every day. You mustn't be late.] Looking at the message, I laughed out of sheer anger. I usually had a dedicated driver for my outings. After starting work, I had my family buy this inconspicuous car to keep things low-key. I replied directly: [No thanks!] Unexpectedly, the next day, Xenia Salter exploited her authority over the attendance records and marked me as arriving late and leaving early and deducted my salary. Since she was so shameless, she should not blame me for what was to come.

The day my mother, Dahlia Moone, gives birth to my younger brother, she goes into obstructed labor and suffers a catastrophic hemorrhage. My CEO father, Graham Kovane, orders every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room because his mistress, Selena Langford, says, "Her crying is giving me a headache." That day, both Mom and my unborn brother die. Not long after, I'm framed for a mistake I never made, driven out of the family, and left to survive on the streets. Living on the kindness of strangers, I fight my way up from nothing. Step by step, I rise until I become the head of Rockstone Tech, controlling a fortune worth billions. On the day of the annual evaluation for promoting interns to full-time employees, five candidate files are placed on my desk. My assistant, Ingrid Nelson, taps the file at the top of the stack, her voice full of admiration. "Ms. Campbell, Monica Kovane is exceptionally capable. Her performance has earned full marks from every department manager." I open Monica's profile, and my eyes stop on the family information section. Even in the worst of times, I will never forget those two names on the paper. After a long silence, I tell Ingrid to bring all five interns into my office. The employment contracts are handed out one by one. When only the last person remains, I look up and meet her confident gaze. She's almost certain the position is already hers. Calmly, I slide a termination letter across the desk. "Unfortunately, Ms. Kovane, you didn't pass."

After graduating from high school, I helped the whole class get in touch with my uncle's factory, which offered a 3,000-dollar monthly salary with room and board included, so we could save up some money for our upcoming college life. More than 20 of my classmates signed up. Then Emily June suddenly typed: [3,000 dollars? Are you trying to rip off your own classmates? I found a job online that pays 7,000 dollars a month. It includes room and board too.] The group chat exploded, and my classmates immediately turned on me. [Jasper, are you getting kickbacks from your uncle?] [We trusted you!] Everyone withdrew their applications and followed Emily instead. Well, fine. If they trusted her that much, then they could go ahead. I would not stop them.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

On the first day of my internship, I discover that there's another intern who has the exact same name as I do. During a trip to the toilet, I overhear some colleagues gossiping. "Did you hear? One of the interns from this batch is actually the chairman's son! I think his name is… Michael Lane." "But there are two Michael Lanes among the interns this time! Which one is it?" "Shh! I heard that he's humble and wants to keep a low profile because he wants to experience life as one of us commoners." "Then, it has to be the one from your team, the one in the white shirt and the Simple-branded canvas bag—you know, the brand that sells plain and simple-looking items that are actually super expensive. Our Michael is wearing a Rolex on his first day of work! It's as though he's afraid others won't know that he's rich. I bet it's all just an act!" "I agree. As if someone truly rich would be flaunting their wealth like that!" I wait till their voices have faded away before returning to my desk and glancing at my Simple canvas bag. At that moment, my phone vibrates with a message from my mother. "How's your first day of work going? Are you getting along well with your colleagues?" I reply, "It's okay, but there seems to be a misunderstanding going on." "What misunderstanding?" I think it over for a bit, but don't answer. After all, it's not like I can tell her, "Mom, you told me to keep a low profile, but because of that, the entire company now thinks that I'm the chairman's son." But I'm actually not!

One day, at work, there was an emergency surgery. As the doctor in charge, I reassigned the hospital’s only remaining dose of a highly sought-after specialty drug. The moment I stepped out of the operating room, I was escorted away by the Office of Medical Affairs and Governance. They accused me of improperly authorizing the use of a restricted medication and informed me that my medical license could be revoked. As I struggled to defend myself, a new intern hired by the chief of my department sent me a message. [Dr. Britton, how could you reassign a restricted medication without approval? Dr. Guzman worked incredibly hard to secure that drug for the department. You can’t just take it because you feel like it! I have a responsibility to help the chief keep things running smoothly, so I reported you to Medical Affairs. Doctors are supposed to put patients first. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to wear a white coat. From now on, every medication request in this department will require both my review and signature!] I could not help but laugh when I read it. That intern had only been in the department for a month. Seeing how approachable and easygoing the department chief was, she had apparently decided that it was her job to police everyone else. What she did not know was that my grandfather owned the hospital. That imported miracle drug everyone had been fighting to obtain? I had led the research team that developed it. In fact, I held the patent. Even the eight-hundred-dollar monthly stipend she received as an intern came from the funding allocated to my research program. How could using a drug I myself had invented ever constitute a protocol violation?

I was in the middle of signing a contract when my phone rang. It was my younger sister, Lily Carter. Her voice was cautious, almost hesitant. “Hey… did you get divorced?” The question caught me off guard. I was about to answer when another voice suddenly cut in on her end of the line, a woman I didn’t recognize. She called out Lily’s name sharply. “Did you forget all the rules I set for you? During work hours, your only job is to serve me. Who said you could hide in the restroom?” A crisp slap echoed through the phone. “Now tell me,” the woman demanded. “What are the rules?” A second later, Lily spoke, her voice small and trembling. “First, during work hours, I have to lower myself when I speak to you. “Second, everything I earn has to be handed over to you. “Third, my phone has to stay on at all times. Whatever you say, I have to do it immediately.” The woman let out a mocking laugh. “At least you remember. One more. When we’re outside, you call me Mrs. Shaw, the boss’s wife. Make sure everyone in the company knows exactly who I am.” Hearing my sister’s quiet sobs, something inside me snapped. I immediately switched to a video call and dialed my husband, Daniel Shaw. “So,” I said coldly when he picked up, “you’ve been using your position at my company to keep a ‘wannabe Mrs.’ on the side, haven’t you?”

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.

At the company celebration dinner, I had just led my team through a major project and was about to go onstage to give my report. Then someone snatched the microphone right out of my hand. Freya, the newly appointed director, strode onto the stage and claimed all the credit for herself with a single speech. “I’m the CEO’s younger sister. My brother sent me to this branch to gain some experience. “From now on, everyone here answers to me. I promise I’ll get him to give this branch more resources, and I’ll lead all of you to bigger and better things.” I was so angry I almost laughed. I asked her what proof she had. To my surprise, she actually listed several of the CEO’s private habits, things an outsider shouldn’t have known. Then she even pulled out a photo of them together. I was about to argue, but my boyfriend, Chuck, grabbed me and dragged me off the stage. “Are you insane? If she’s the CEO’s sister, then just put up with it. Don’t cause trouble for the company.” I looked at Freya, who stood onstage with a smug smile on her face. Only one thought filled my mind. Since when did my brother have another sister?