Performance Partnerships

During Black Friday, the intelligent system I develop helps the company run highly targeted ads and brings in 30 million dollars in revenue. But when I apply for the project bonus, the director rejects it. "The system is just an auxiliary tool. The performance belongs to the sales department." I hold back my frustration and pull up the system logs. "88% of the orders come from the system's targeted pushes. According to company policy, I should receive a 0.5% commission." The director glances at me, twirling his pen. "If the sales commission doesn't go to the sales department, should it go to you? And your lousy system exceeds the API limit and racks up extra fees. You still owe us a hundred thousand dollars. We'll deduct that from your salary." Three days before Christmas sales are set to begin, the system completely shuts down because of API restrictions. Late at night, the director calls me. I stare at my computer screen. "Since the system is just an auxiliary tool, why don't you start with manual targeting?"

At the year-end company meeting, I was announcing the bonuses when a new employee suddenly raised her hand. "Over at the other company, they handed out two boxes of imported cherries at their annual party," she said, shaking her phone. "And we only get performance bonuses?" The video, maliciously edited, went viral online and hit the trending list the very next day. I had the finance department cancel all the year-end bonus transfers. "If cherries are what really count as a gesture of goodwill," I said, "then this year's year-end benefit will be cherries—fifty boxes per person." When they saw the mountain of cherries piling up before them, the employees who had once joined in mocking me panicked instantly. One by one, they cried and apologized, begging me to reconsider.

I stood with my back to the door. I could feel his eyes on me as I slowly loosened my belt, the metal clinking loudly and let my hand drift somewhere private, putting on a slow, shameless performance as I stroked myself. "Big daddy.... "I murmured as he entered the room, my voice low and seductively smooth. "If you're enjoying this so much.... why don't you come and help me yourself?" I groaned with a sly smile on my lips. ******** Derek Henshaw, becomes the step-son to the Alpha of Moonclaw. Once rejected by his mate for being a weak omega, fate throws him into the hands of Jonathan Claw, his step-father. Their story changed from Derek despising Jonathan at first sight and making his life miserable, to the moon goddess binding them as mates.

On the eve of my wedding, my wife, Sharon Moonstone, drugged me and knocked me unconscious. She let her first love, Aaron Miller, take my place as the groom, standing beside her as they held the wedding that was supposed to belong to both of us. By the time I finally found them, they had already gone into the bridal suite and consummated their marriage. When I demanded answers, Sharon did not show a trace of guilt. "You live off me. You'd better behave. Make a scene, and we'll divorce." My heart went cold. I handed her the divorce papers, but she barely looked at them. "Looks like you've improved," she said lightly. "At least you know a performance should be convincing from start to finish."

Due to my outstanding performance, Mdm. Hall granted me flexible working hours. After a full night of entertaining clients, I had barely fallen asleep when a colleague’s call jolted me awake. “It’s already 9:30 a.m.! How could you be late again?” I patiently explained that I had worked late signing contracts last night. So, I would not be coming into the office this morning. However, my colleague scoffed. “Don’t think that being the top salesperson gives you free rein to skip work! “The heiress, Ms. Hall, is visiting the office for the first time today! “If you upset her, you’d better watch out. She’ll have you fired!” I pushed through my headache and searched my memory. The heiress he mentioned was Cadence Hall. If I was not mistaken, she was the woman who had been desperate to marry into my family.

At the company's annual meeting, my promotion opportunity goes to an intern instead. I confront Mitchell Wilson, a manager, only to be publicly humiliated. "The industry is in a slump, yet you have the best sales performance in the entire company. Who knows how you get your clients?" I drank until my stomach bled and ended up in the hospital in the middle of the night. I have forced a smile while serving arrogant, sleazy executives. Yet, none of that feels as humiliating as this moment. My ex-boyfriend looks at me gloatingly while holding the intern's hand as they plan a celebration party. Before leaving, he mocks me, "Yvette is the Saccone Group heiress. Once her evaluation period ends, she will go back to inherit the company. Who do you think you are?" I frown in confusion—I am the Saccone Group heiress.

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages. Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed. I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?” The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.” That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me. The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

"If you won't satisfy me, then don't try to stop me from getting pleasure elsewhere," he said icily, turning to leave. "Will you stop seeing other women if I do it?" She asked sheepishly, facepalming in shyness. She couldn't believe she was considering it. "That will depend on how good your performance is," the ice melted from his eyes and all around him. When Abigail finds herself in an arranged marriage to save her father and revenge on her stepmother and sisters, she was never prepared to fall in love with a jerk like President Tony - the multi-time billionaire CEO of the Wrights Empire, and a playboy, who thought that no woman had the five or maybe six qualities he wanted in an ideal wife. Whereas, Abigail was determined to bring him graciously on his knees, till the only woman he'd ever want would be her, and her alone.

Crystal Santiago was a woman of dual identities. By day, she was a waitress, known for her kind heart and sweet smile. By night, she became Jae, a stripper renowned for her looks and skill. Wherever she went, men would flock to her, completely under her spell. Her long, black hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, framing her seductive red lips and piercing blue eyes. She had the allure of a siren, and it was all too easy for her to trap men in her gaze. But beneath the surface, she was a sweet, down-to-earth girl. Crystal's life was going smoothly until the day she met him. He was powerful, ruthless, and dangerous. He ruled the city with an iron fist, and no one dared to cross them. He approached Crystal one night after her performance, his eyes filled with greed and lust. "You're mine now," he said, his voices dripping with malice. "You belong to me”.

My sister and I were both enslaved after the Great War and the defeat of humankind. But before long, my sister's striptease performance earned the Alpha lycan's favor, and they soon left, holding hands. On the other hand, I was taken away by a masked man unceremoniously after he left some money on the counter. However, no one expected the Alpha lycan to chew through my sister's throat during the full moon, while the masked man treasured me, pampering me with endless wealth and prestige. My sister turned into a vengeful spirit then and cursed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, we had both reincarnated to that fateful day. This time, my sister threw herself straight into the masked man's arms, sniffling as she begged, "Please love me?" Standing nearby, I laughed. After all, it was wonderful that I didn't have to be a vampire's walking blood pack in this life.