Workplace Novels & Stories

The HR manager slid a severance agreement across the table and said coldly, "You're fired." I froze. "Why?" Just one week ago, my boss had praised me in the company meeting and called me one of the team's most valuable people. The HR manager shrugged. "Ms. Lyttle, you're already 35. You don't have the energy of younger employees anymore, and you're not what you used to be. You no longer fit the company's future." I joined this company when I was 29. Over the past six years, I wrote countless lines of code and worked through more sleepless nights than I could remember. Every time the company faced a major system failure, I led the emergency response and saved it from catastrophic losses. And now they were telling me I was too old and too slow. I laughed in disbelief. "So you've already copied all my experience and skills into an AI, haven't you?" The HR manager paused for a moment before answering confidently, "AI never gets tired, never takes time off, and never asks for a raise. Once the company has an employee like that, why would we keep you?" I looked at her. "Are you sure the AI has learned everything I know?" She smiled. "Absolutely." The moment I heard that, I finally relaxed. Long ago, I had already hidden a trap inside my code to keep my skills from being copied. The moment their AI employee went live, the company would only have three days before everything fell apart.

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.

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.

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.

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.

I was dragged online by one of my own employees. According to her post, I was a stingy boss who refused to give out holiday gift boxes for Memorial Day weekend. What the internet did not know was that my company already had a long-standing tradition. Every holiday, and even every employee birthday, each person received a $300 gift card without fail. But once the whole internet started tearing me apart, I decided to give everyone exactly what they claimed they wanted. I issued a company-wide notice. To respect everyone’s demand for a more “thoughtful” holiday gesture, this year’s Memorial Day gift cards would be canceled and replaced with holiday gift boxes for all employees. The moment the notice went out, the entire company exploded. Employees crowded outside my office, begging me to bring the gift cards back.

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've spent five long and devoted years at the company. At first, I think I'm getting a promotion soon. What I don't expect is that my superior, Jacob Hale, decides to burn bridges with me by forcing me to voluntarily quit the job. He also promotes Megan Osborn, a pretentious woman who spends her time kissing up to the right people. That's when I also find out that the employee I've been training from the start, Cindy Sutton, and Megan are actually best friends of many years. They keep hunting for my faults just so they can send them to Jacob behind my back. To make things worse, my boyfriend of seven years, Felix Wilkins, is even being flirtatious and intimate with Megan in public! Fine! I don't mind changing my identity and rejoining this game!

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.

I was born blessed by the god of fortune. No matter where I work, I can close major deals while lying down asleep. The underboss of the Castellano mafia family discovers this secret. He shows up at my door personally and invites me to join as a consigliere in name only. He offers me a six-figure annual salary and chauffeur service. He even installs a special ten-foot-wide massage bed in my office just for sleeping. After I join the Castellano family, arms deals finalize one after another. Several stalled collaborations come back to life. The Castellano family's reputation climbs steadily. Until the boss' girlfriend shows up to inspect for the first time. She grabs a pair of scissors and, in front of everyone, shreds my mattress to pieces. "Useless! We don't pay you all this money to sleep! "Starting tomorrow, you're working as a bar hostess. And you'll be paid like one too." I rub my sleepy eyes and stare at her in confusion. Last night, to help the Castellano family finalize that casino operation rights contract, I didn't sleep a wink. I barely fall asleep, so how am I useless? The soldato beside her breaks into a sweat. "Signora, she's…" "Shut up!" she cuts him off arrogantly. "From now on, I'm the one in charge of the Castellano family!" Fine. Since there's no place for me here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep. I hear the rival family's boss is willing to give me an entire luxury estate.