Dredd Julie Cash Novels & Stories

The new colleague at my company is a stingy mother. On her first day, she shows up with a huge pile of expired snacks that her son refused to eat and hands them out to everyone. Once we're done, she pulls out her PayPal and says, "These are all imported snacks for my son. I'll need 50 dollars from each of you." During a company team-building event, she refuses to participate, saying she has to go home to take care of her child. The day after, she comes over holding her phone and asks me for money. "I didn't eat with everyone yesterday. Since the company is footing the bill, just hand me the cash equivalent for my meal." Furious, I rejected her request immediately. What I fail to realize is that she would bear a grudge against me over it. One night, her son comes down with a high fever, so she calls me and requests a ride to the hospital using the company car. Once again, I refuse without a second thought. Because of the delay, her son suffers severe cognitive damage. She blames me for everything that happened. In a fit of rage, she ends up running me over with her car. As I open my eyes again, I find myself transported to her first day on the job.

I’d just left a creative meeting when a TikTok video popped up on my feed, slamming my company. The title: "Stay Away! This Austin startup is incredibly cheap. The perks are a joke." The video showed off the pour-over coffee from Austin's hottest independent cafe and pastries from a top-tier French bakery. The same ones I’d just had my assistant, Sam, hand out. I frowned. In the company's Slack channel, I tagged everyone. "@here Any suggestions for this afternoon's Happy Hour?" Leo, the new Gen-Z intern, replied instantly with a voice note. “Asher, with all due respect, these snacks with gluten and dairy are so unhealthy.” “A truly visionary company would hire a private chef to customize raw, vegan bites for everyone's dietary needs. That's what respect looks like.” I laughed. It was an angry laugh. The company's daily snack budget was $25 per person. For an Austin startup, that was top of the line. I typed back: "Since it's impossible to please everyone, the snack perk is canceled. I'll convert the budget into a cash bonus for all of you." Less than five minutes later, the TikTok caption was updated. "UPDATE: Y'all, I can't make this up. I made a suggestion about dietary inclusivity, and my toxic boss just canceled all the perks! This is how toxic bosses act. Can't handle a single piece of feedback!"

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.

My name is Samantha Lane. I've forgotten to pay the taxes, and the company's accounts are now frozen. I'm not panicking, but my husband's foster sister, Zoey Quinn, is losing her mind. In my previous life, Zoey was the one who suggested using her summer bonus to take the entire company on a trip to Slarqia. What I didn't expect was that her supposed generosity would drain every cent from the company's account. As a result, the company's cash flow collapsed, and I was left buried under hundreds of millions in debt. When I went to her to ask for the money back, she leaned smugly against my husband's chest and said, "Samantha, I only spent a few tens of millions. How could that bankrupt the company? Don't be so dramatic!" My husband, Harry Jennings, glared at me with his face twisted in anger. "Samantha, the company's money is marital property. I agreed to let Zoey spend it. Back off, alright?" I wanted to report it to the police, but they abducted me and smuggled me out of the country. I ended up being tortured to death. When my coworkers heard the news, they actually cheered. They said I had it coming, like some heartless capitalist had finally gotten her karma. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Zoey is inviting everyone on a trip to Slarqia.

She was afraid to fall in love. He never lowered the walls of his heart, afraid to face betrayal. Both were busy chasing away the demons of their sleepless nights not knowing when their lives entangled and they crashed into each other, seeking solace from the treacherous world. Valerie Ambrose bumped into Damon Lysander at a downtown club. Eyes met, sparks flew, heat rose, and they ended up having a one-night stand. _ "I don't have cash on me. I forgot my wallet." He slurred, his crystal blue eyes bloodshot red as he stared directly into my eyes, for a moment I thought he was sober, but then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath fanning my neck. "Now are you still interested?" Although the music was blasting through the speakers, but I caught up on his hidden implication. I shook my head in exhaustion "You're drunk Damon. Come I will drop you home." "I don't want to go back there. It hurts Val." He mumbled dryly, but his moist eyes said it all, and I couldn't help but pity him. When I failed to respond he pressed his lips to the side of my neck and inhaled deeply. "Please don't leave me alone." He was barely audible and looked like a mess, a beautiful mess. "I can't bear this anymore." And with that said, he pressed his lips to mine.

When I stand in the sales office and watch my best friend beat me to purchasing the foreclosed property I have my eye on, I finally know for sure that she has been reborn too. In my previous life, both my best friend and I had some savings. She invested all her money in the stock market, while I decided to buy a house to live in. Since I didn't have much savings, I ended up buying a foreclosed property where a murder had taken place. But inside the ceiling cavity, I discovered a safe containing ten million dollars in cash and over a dozen gold bars. Meanwhile, my best friend's money was trapped in the stock market. She lost everything and even ended up in debt. When she watched me move into a villa, drive luxury cars, and spend money extravagantly every day, my best friend flew into a rage. She lured me to a highway where an oncoming freight truck killed me. After my death, my soul floated in the air as I watched her and my boyfriend deceive the police together. They claimed I had been drinking and ignored traffic rules, rushing onto the highway to my own death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I'm supposed to buy the foreclosed property.

Augustine Knight is the man all mothers wish for their daughter! He’s nice, he’s rich, he’s beyond beautiful, and has the quality we’ve all been looking for- painfully loyal! Yeah okay maybe he’s a bit arrogant but you can hardly see that trait whenever he’s with his family and close friends because yes, you got it right, he’s a family man and a very good friend too! See, what a catch. Phew. The relationship he had with Evie, is something we all pray for our daughters to have. If you excuse the big misunderstanding, of course. Because that would make you call him a fucking pedophile. With P at the front and right in the middle. PEDO-PHILE. You can’t exactly blame the man when he asked his newly-married wife to give him back four years of his life, or forced her to cash her promise about their three (future) children. From being the lucky girlfriend of a billionaire she upped her status to ‘insanely-lucky wife of a billionaire’, but within a month it changed into being his worthless SugarBabyWife. *** Dig in if you feel like reading something that would make you mad, sad, or both. Don’t hesitate if you’re a fan of toxic relationship because I promise you, this, is the definition of ttttoxicccity. I’m the fucking mayor of this city if you’ve read Gay Sugar Daddy :)

She stepped into the altar to save her brother’s life. Now, she has to survive the ice-cold tycoon who thinks she is someone else. Vivian is drowning under a mountain of medical bills, desperate to secure a life-saving bone marrow transplant for her twelve-year-old brother. With only weeks left to find four hundred thousand dollars, a terrifying miracle arrives in the form of her estranged, identical twin sister, Valerie. Valerie is engaged to marry Alexander Vance—the notoriously ruthless, iron-fisted tech billionaire—in a strategic corporate alliance. Terrified of his cold reputation and secretly in love with another man, Valerie flees the country on the eve of the wedding. She leaves behind a diary, a massive stack of cash, and a desperate proposition: Vivian must take her place at the altar. The plan seems simple enough: play the part of a glamorous socialite for twelve months, maintain the contract, and walk away with a fortune to save her brother. But Alexander Vance is not a man easily deceived. He expects a materialistic, dramatic wife, but finds himself entirely unsettled by "Valerie’s" sudden warmth, humility, and quiet resilience. As Vivian struggles to navigate high-society events and outrun her own past, every interaction with her new husband becomes a high-stakes game of survival. Bound by a strict contract but drawn together by an unexpected, electric chemistry, Vivian must protect her secret at all costs. Because if the Ice King discovers she is a penniless impostor, he will ruin her family—and the truth will cost her brother his life.

I sponsored Emily Fagan from an underprivileged background just to help her get through school. She was good-looking but wasn't exactly the brightest. Despite my warning not to tamper with my things, she slipped stimulants into my water bottle. Thanks to her, I was accused of cheating in the swimming competition. Our team's score was nullified. As for me, I was banned from competing for life and kicked out of college. When I confronted her, she cried pitifully, "Julie, I just wanted you to win. I didn't know that'd happen." My boyfriend, Elijah Strauss, held her and comforted her. He even snapped at me, claiming, "Em had good intentions. Why are you giving her a hard time?" Crushed, I shut myself in at home. Feeling sorry, she and Elijah visited me and brought along some vodka as an apology. After I took ten shots, I asked her to buy some over-the-counter pain relievers for my splitting headache. Little did I know that she'd make me take a dangerous dose of Ibuprofen mixed with alcohol. The bleeding in my stomach was what killed me. Emily looked pitifully remorseful at the hospital. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't even tell what I shouldn't have given her…" During the police interrogation, my boyfriend gave false testimony to protect her. He accused me of taking my own life by mixing Ibuprofen and alcohol because I couldn't handle the mental stress from cheating in the competition. When I reopened my eyes, I found out that I was transported to the day before the competition.

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."