Workplace Novels & Stories

Out of sheer boredom, I randomly clicked into a livestream titled "Taming an Innocent Housewife." In the stream, a woman in a silk chemise was lazily puttering around the kitchen. When the camera finally showed her face, I was completely stunned—it was me. Not only that, but on the public chat, the top donor was spamming gifts like crazy. [Make her drink that spiked milk.] Soon after, a man groveled in response: [Thanks for the gift, bro. She'll drink it right now. I promise you a hell of a show tonight.] I'd recognize that voice anywhere—it was my husband, Jake, who was supposedly on a business trip overseas. My own husband had turned our home into a hidden-camera setup, treating me like his personal reality show star. And now, he was trying to feed me illegal drugs just to rake in donations. Most people would've broken down or called the cops. But I'm what you'd call the ultimate pro at playing nice—everyone in our circle knows I'm the queen of manipulation. I picked up that glass of milk, looked straight into the camera, and gave a fragile, tantalizing smile. "Since my husband's not home, drinking this milk all alone feels so lonely... I wish some strong, capable guy would come take care of me." The chat exploded. Donations went through the roof. Later that night, Jake burst through the front door, ready to "discipline" me—but froze in his tracks. There I was, sitting in lingerie on the lap of the top donor, grinning at my husband. "Honey, you're back! I helped you hit your goals tonight!"

The day I finally secured an investment worth over 20 million dollars, I walked into the office and immediately caught sight of that calculating assistant wearing a smug look as she spread gossip around. According to her, my husband, the CEO, was planning to strip me of my position and exile me to some forgotten branch in Northreach. Contract in hand, I headed straight for the CEO's office. I stood behind my husband and rubbed his temples while joking casually, "You won't believe what I just heard. Apparently, you're sending me off to a branch office. If only they knew we've been married in secret for seven years and are about to make it public." He didn't look surprised at all. He gently pushed my hand away and smiled. "It's not a rumor. Andrea messed up the last project, and the board is breathing down my neck. They want someone sent to Northreach, and they picked her. That place is brutal. She wouldn't survive it. She's not like you. She doesn't have the luxury of failure. If she goes there, her career is finished. She was my junior back in school. I can't let her life fall apart." He paused, then added softly, "Once you come back, I'll announce our marriage. And I'll make sure you get what you've always wanted. A child." I smiled, but it held no warmth. I turned around and walked out without another word. Before I reached the elevator, I made a call to his biggest competitor. "Looking for a vice president? I'm bringing 20 million dollars of funding with me. I only ask for one thing: Don't send me to Northreach."

In the third year the law firm was established, Claire Stone joined the firm as an assistant. From then on, my boyfriend started buying breakfast for her. My childhood friend also drove her to and from work. As for me, I became the wicked woman who bullied the newbie. The repeated disappointments made me decide to expel them from my life. So I agreed to a marriage contract with someone else, and while my boyfriend and childhood friend mocked me, I left the firm we had formed together. Later, they learned that they had been showering all their love and attention on a spy sent by a rival law firm. When they regretted their actions and asked me to go back to them, my husband sent them an invitation to our wedding.

I've kicked my 28-thousand-dollar high-tech drone into the lake. In my previous life, when my company held a team-bonding session by camping out in the mountains, my colleague, Melissa Schubert's beloved pet dog—that she views as her own son—has gotten lost in the woods. With tears trickling down her cheeks, she tugs at my sleeve. "I can't live without Max! Please use your drone to look for him!" Eager to help Melissa out, I immediately power on my drone and start scouring the woods for Max. But Melissa thinks I'm being far too slow on the controller, so she snatches it from me and starts messing around with the controls. As a result, the drone spirals out of control and crashes into the woods. As soon as its battery explodes, it starts a forest fire immediately. But when faced against the police, Melissa doesn't hesitate to throw me under the bus. "Lauren was the one who kept flaunting her stupid drone! Not only did she set fire to the mountain, but she also killed my dog!" On top of having to pay a huge fire insurance claim, I also get sentenced by the court, leaving me with a criminal record. My dad is forced to work at a construction site just to help me gather the funds needed for the compensation. That's when he accidentally falls off the scaffolding, resulting in him getting paralyzed permanently. All of my relatives have also cut ties with us. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the cliffside on the day of the camping trip. This time, I don't hesitate to kick my drone into the lake. A second later, Melissa rushes to me while bawling at the top of her lungs. "My dog has gone missing! Quick, help me look for him with your drone!" I turn around to look at her. "You should be calling the police and asking a professional search-and-rescue team for help if you want to look for your dog. Why are you looking for me instead?"

To save up for the down payment of our home, my boyfriend, Joseph Hackley, and I join the same high-paying company. In our very first month, we secure an order worth billions of dollars. I am thrilled as I go to share the good news with Joseph. Instead, I accidentally overhear him talking with his friend. "Are you sure everything will still go smoothly if we let Mabel go and sign that three-billion-dollar order?" Joseph replies, "Relax. I am the department manager. One word from me, and I can kick Stephanie out of the team. There's nothing she can say about it." His friend says, "Good. Then I will contact the client beforehand. Mable can officially become a full-time employee immediately and rank first in sales performance." My heart sinks to my stomach. Sure enough, on the day of the signing, the contract in the safe mysteriously disappears. When I rush into the conference room, I see Joseph holding Mable's hand as he introduces her. He says, "The true lead person behind this project is Mable. Without her, you would never have seen such a perfect proposal plan. Stephanie does not understand anything. I've already removed her from the team." Hearing his words, I snort in anger. Remove me from the team? Little does he know that the client is my father!

I was an emergency physician. After finishing a night shift, I had just walked out of the hospital entrance when a colleague from the hospital called me. "Dr. Doherty, hurry back. A critically injured patient was just brought in. The chief wants you to return immediately and help with the resuscitation." I turned around without thinking. But then a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [Do not enter the operating room! Do not take part in this resuscitation!] [The patient is already dead. If you go in, you will be taking the fall for the hospital director's daughter!] [This patient's family is powerful. You will not only be sentenced to death, your parents will also be forced to jump to their deaths as well!] My steps stopped cold. A few seconds later, my heart tightened. I decided to believe the comments. I would gamble on it. My eyes swept quickly across the ground. I immediately locked onto an uncovered deep shaft on the road. I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes, and threw myself straight into the opening.

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

In my previous life, my brother and fiancé teamed up to sabotage my company for the sake of my so-called best friend. After I went bankrupt, they stood beside her watching me collapse in the pouring rain, laughing mockingly at my pathetic state. "Linda Turner, you look as pathetic as a drenched dog!" they sneered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding meeting three years earlier. In my previous life, when my company was just starting out, my brother and fiancé had warned me against using the Turner and Peterson family connections. They claimed it wouldn't be fair to others, but then turned around and handed projects to my best friend under various pretexts, just to see her smile. Now that I was back, I watched them secretly manipulating things just like before, giving my projects to my best friend. I finally gave up on them completely. When they found out I was leaving the country, my brother and fiancé set off fireworks all night, celebrating that they'd finally gotten rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Trada Corp's bidding meeting, I took the stage as the CEO's wife—and they couldn't hide the redness in their eyes.

I've been with my girlfriend, Erin Palmer, for five years. But the moment she finally lands the job she's always dreamed of, she dumps me. It feels like a blade twisting in my heart. Without my support, she would've never gotten to where she is now. What stings even more is discovering she's been cheating on me with my supervisor, Gavin Trent. Yet little does she know that this company is just one of the subsidiaries under my name.

"Alexia, don't take any of the company's holiday bonus boxes. You're not one of us—there's nothing for you." My manager, Kevin Davis, delivered the notice coldly, as if he were commenting on the weather—routine, impersonal. My hand stilled on the mouse. "The rest of you, come with me. We're heading to the company gala to collect your million-dollar bonuses!" My colleagues filed out in high spirits. I watched their retreating backs and answered with a bitter, "Okay." I was a contract worker. For seven years, I had always been the odd one out in the department. Our ID badges said it all—blue for full-time employees, gray for me. Time off was no different. Full-time employees had weekends; I got one day off a month. As for pay and benefits, they enjoyed meal allowances, housing subsidies, team outings, afternoon snacks, holiday gifts, year-end bonuses… I received a fixed salary of three thousand dollars a month. I sat down, opened my computer, and returned to the candlestick charts of my stocks. They didn't know that I was the company's largest anonymous individual shareholder. And they certainly didn't know that tonight, at the company gala, I would step onto the stage as the new Chairman—and my very first proposal would be to lay off their entire department.