Scumbag Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

It's the fifth year since I eloped with my boyfriend, Leonard Goodman, and he has gone bankrupt again. My father has tried his best to separate us. He has cut me off financially and left me to fend for myself. In the past five years, I've worked as a janitor and a street vendor. It has been an extremely rough time. But I'm doing all this to help Leonard start his business. I'm rooting for him to stabilize his income so that my father will give in and bless our marriage. However, throughout the past few years, all his attempts to start a business have ended in failure. This time, he's ten million dollars in debt. He looks at me with eyes full of remorse. "Rena, I'm so sorry for dragging you through five years of hardship without making you my wife." I shake my head and tell him it's okay and that I'm willing to go through everything with him. To help him pay off his debt, I secretly take on side jobs at a massage parlor without telling him. Today, I'm attending to a wealthy socialite. She earnestly instructs, "Make sure to watch your pressure during the massage. My body is naturally sensitive and delicate, so my skin bruises very easily. "My husband is a possessive man, and he only allows his marks to remain on my body. Last night, he couldn't control himself and left 108 hickeys on my body. He'll definitely be counting them later." When she finishes speaking, her phone on the table suddenly lights up. On her lock screen, the man holding her in a deep kiss is none other than my boyfriend of five years, Leonard himself.

My husband is a copycat. He would buy a watch or a car just because his friend did so. Last year, his friend had an affair partner. He swiftly found one for himself, too. “Jonas and the gang all do this. It’ll look bad on me if I don’t have one.” The day I suffered a miscarriage and was hospitalized, he spent it with that woman, celebrating the 100th day anniversary of when they met. “Jonas spends his time with his other woman. It’ll look bad on me if I don’t do the same.” I went on my knees, begging him to sign the surgical consent form. Yet, he found me a killjoy and blocked me for three months. Subsequently, his friends’ wives all asked for a divorce and threatened to leave with half their assets. He rushed home immediately, deleted his affair partner from his contacts, and put on an apron to cook for me. “Honey, I’ve thought things through. From now on, I’ll learn from others and be a devoted husband.” I stared at the divorce agreement he had filed unilaterally and smiled. “What a coincidence. I’ve been learning from others recently, specifically in switching out my husband.”

During our engagement banquet, Samuel Hill, my fiance, has the nerve to put our marital home up as a prize in an anonymous draw. Nathan Ziegler, my childhood friend, smiles and says, "Samuel prepared this surprise for you, Charlotte." Ultimately, Naomi Sutton, Samuel's first love, gets the marital home from the draw. I, on the other hand, receive a box from Samuel's assistant, and inside it is a photo of the three of us. There is even a message on the back. "I hope that you remember that the three of us grew up together." In that instant, everyone in the room falls into silence. Samuel wraps an arm around Naomi's shoulder and says, "It's just a game, Charlotte. You're not going to make a big deal out of it, are you?" Nathan tries to reason with me as well. "Naomi just returned from abroad, so she doesn't have a place to stay. You should let her have it for now, Charlotte." I later notice a message on Samuel's phone. It was from the host of the banquet. "Mr. Hill, per your instructions, Ms. Sutton gets the marital home, and Ms. Gardner gets the keepsake." Samuel merely replied, "Got it." I smash the framed photo right at Samuel's feet in front of everyone and say, "The engagement banquet is canceled." I refuse to go along with this performance designed to humiliate me.

After eight years of dating my boyfriend, Zachary Corington, I finally can't take it anymore and suggest breaking up. Zachary asks, "You're breaking up with me just because I drove over to find you and called your name?" "Yes," I reply. He curls his lips into a mocking smile. "Go on. What do you want this time?" I shake my head and say, "Nothing. I just want you to stop showing up before me."

After I discovered I was pregnant, I slammed the pregnancy test report down in front of my playboy boyfriend. Alan Rivers lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings at me, his tone casual and cruel. "Seeing as you've kept me company for seven years, I'll give you two choices. "First, you can abort the baby. I'll compensate you with a million dollars, and you can stay by my side. Second, keep it, take the kid, and disappear. The farther, the better." Why did I have to choose? I wanted both, so I took the million dollars and vanished from his world without a trace.

After our engagement, my fiance, Justin Ford, has someone bring a child back from Verdanne and hand him over to me. An email arrives along with the boy. "Nora, I got bored out of my mind in Verdanne and accidentally knocked Cindy up. Since you've always been sweet and obedient, I'm leaving my son with you. Consider it practice. When we come home, you'll be all set to work as our nanny." Without a word, I hand the child over to the butler. Seven years later, all the CEOs stationed overseas return to headquarters to report in. Justin pulls up in a Maybach with a whole entourage, blocking the entrance to the Ford estate where I live. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he tilts his head and takes off his sunglasses. "Did you miss me that badly? Is that why you're waiting out here?" He takes a drag from his cigarette before continuing, "By the way, Cindy and I got married in Verdanne so we could get our son registered. From now on, you two can treat each other like sisters. Whatever she gets, you'll get too. "The Shaws and the Fords are practically family anyway. You don't care about a piece of paper, do you?" With that, he blows smoke ring after smoke ring into my face, leaving me choking with tears streaming from my eyes. I quickly step back and wipe away the tears. My son's dad is an extremely jealous man who warned me long ago to keep my distance from the younger men in the Ford family. If my husband catches his nephew harassing his wife, all hell will break loose in the Ford family.

The night before the Fourth of July holiday, my husband gathered the entire company for what I thought would finally be our long-awaited public announcement. Instead, his clueless assistant burst into the room wearing a wedding dress. "Cameron, I'm here to marry you." He didn't turn her down. If anything, his eyes softened with unmistakable affection as he promoted her to vice president on the spot. The entire company erupted in cheers for their love story. When my coworkers noticed me standing frozen off to the side, one of them couldn't resist reminding me. "Stephanie, you've been with Mr. Cox for nine years. You can't let a moment this special pass without saying something!" I smiled, walked onto the stage, slipped off my wedding ring, and tossed it to Poppy Campbell. "What kind of wedding doesn't come with a ring? Here, take it."

My boyfriend's tablet, left behind at my place, suddenly lit up with a group chat notification. "Ron, that gold digger's totally hooked, right? When are you taking her to the luxury boutique so we can humiliate her in public?" "Everything's ready. We're just waiting to film her fawning over the designer goods like the greedy little gold digger she is. The guys are gonna love it!" The group chat was called "Exposing Gold Diggers." And my boyfriend Ron was the one who'd created it. I opened the tablet and scrolled through the message history. Screen after screen of vile, disgusting garbage. My blood boiled with every word. So that so-called love at first sight at the designer boutique had been a setup from the very start. He'd spent the better part of a year carefully worming his way into my life, showering me with attention, all while treating me like prey, waiting for the perfect moment to humiliate me for an audience. What a joke. I was the real deal, a genuine heiress from one of the wealthiest families in the country. The gifts he'd gone to such lengths to give me? I couldn't have cared less about any of them. If he was so obsessed with playing people, then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine! Let him see what it felt like to be the one getting played!

Wanting to give my boyfriend, Justin Letterman, a surprise on Valentine's Day, I throw myself at him when he enters the room. I push him against the door and kiss him passionately. It isn't easy to transfer the spiked wine from my mouth into his, but his reaction is cold and indifferent. He says nothing as he pushes me aside to turn on the light. "Don't you want my first time anymore, darling?" I ask bashfully as I grab his hand. His breathing turns heavy in an instant. Smiling, I slip my hand under his shirt, but I'm distracted when I hear the front door creak open. "Babe," Justin coos in a deep and hoarse voice. "Why are you in such a hurry?" my best friend, Natalie Quinn, asks coyly. The wanton noises of kissing and moaning echo into the room. Before I can snap back to my senses, I'm yanked into a closet. Am I the one getting caught, or am I the one doing the catching?

On my wedding day, the officiant had just asked me whether I would take this man as my husband. Then my fiancé's secretary shoved her way onto the stage, heavily pregnant, sobbing that her baby couldn't grow up without a father. The whole audience was in an uproar. Adrian grasped both of her hands, turned to look at me, and kept his voice mild. "Vivian, she's stood by me for five years. That has to count for something." "The baby's already seven months along. I can't let him come into this world without a name." "You'll remain Mrs. Locke and we can treat her as part of our family. The three of us will build a harmonious life together." I looked at the big backdrop screen behind him, emblazoned with both our names side by side, and I started to laugh. "Adrian, did you forget?" "For this wedding, the hotel is mine and the guests are all those I invited." "Even that tux you're wearing was paid for with the card I gave you." I pulled off my wedding veil and dropped it onto the floor at his feet. "You want to give her a name? Fine." "First, cough up every last cent you owe me."

I spent seven years drafting divorce papers for other people. I never expected that the ninety-ninth agreement would be my own. That night, my husband, Carter, lost a tabletop game during a live stream with his childhood sweetheart, Chloe. The penalty was to give up the thing he treasured most. Chloe smiled at the camera, tapping his wedding ring. "Lend me your marriage for a day." The comment section blew up. Carter looked at me like he was giving orders to an assistant. "Evelyn, you know the drill. "Sign a temporary divorce agreement. I’ll cancel it with you tomorrow morning." Chloe lowered her eyes, her voice trembling. "Forget it. She won't let you. You always choose her over me anyway." I reached into my bag and touched the positive IVF result. Seven years of hormone shots. Four miscarriages. I didn't even have the energy to tell him anymore. As the camera zoomed in on my face, I pushed the papers back across the table. "Carter, this time, I’m putting down a bet, too. “I bet the thing you lose tonight isn't just me.”

To help his childhood friend secure a spot in a high-ranking institution, my boyfriend, Frederick Linton, steals my academic report. The two of them use my work to publish a research paper before I can. Then, they proceed to accuse me of plagiarism. After they twist the truth and spread it online, I become the target of a vicious wave of cyberbullying. Eventually, the relentless harassment drives me into severe depression. Meanwhile, Frederick's childhood friend, Elaine Anders, rises to prominence in the academic world using my work. On the day Elaine receives her award, Frederick gets down on one knee and proposes to her. I, on the other hand, end my life by jumping off a rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day I finished my research paper.

On New Year’s Eve, my husband, Julian Vance, handed me an end-of-year performance review. It was a full dossier detailing every failure and contribution I had made over the past twelve months. I skimmed through the pages, but froze when I reached the bold text on the final page. [Spouse has consistently failed to meet key performance indicators, falling well below acceptable standards.] [Conclusion: Termination of marital partnership.] I jerked my head up. "Julian, what is this?" His expression was completely blank. "It’s plain English. Clarissa, I think it’s time we discuss severing our contract and getting a divorce.”

Five years after my death, my husband, Lucas Grant, wanted me to take the blame for his lover in a drunk driving incident. He had barged into my house with forged evidence, but realized I was not inside. He had no other choice but to knock on my neighbor’s door. However, my neighbor told him, “Joan? She died a long time ago. “I heard that the family of that case was not happy with the verdict, so they abducted her the day she was released from prison. She was tortured for three days straight!” Lucas did not believe the neighbor. He was furious that I was creating a ridiculous lie just to escape. He yelled angrily at my neighbor. “Don’t think I’ll believe you! Joan must have paid you to lie to me! “Tell her that it’s no use hiding. If she doesn’t contact me in three days, I’ll no longer pay the alimony for that rascal!” However, he did not know that the person that his lover had killed in the drunk driving accident was the very rascal he was referring to.

[Wanna do it?] I accidentally sent the message meant for my bestie to her brother, Gerald Cooper. Ten minutes later, I received his reply. [In the Maybach downstairs. Come down.] To my surprise, her brother was very well endowed too. That night, things got heated and we almost lost control. When we sobered up, he promised me that he would bear responsibility for his actions. He treated me well and doted on me, giving me anything I asked for. However, there was only one rule: I must never admit in public that I was his girlfriend. Five years later, he brought another woman home. With his arm wrapped around the woman, he told me that she was his girlfriend. I confronted him, asking, "If she's your girlfriend, then what would that make me? I waited five long years for you!" He chuckled indifferently and said something that chilled me to my bone. "Wait for me? Did I tell you to wait? Nyssa Bennett, don't ever fall in love with someone so desperately. It's terrifying." So it turned out that my love for him was nothing but trouble. From then on, I tried to live without him, let go of my feelings, and finally left him. But one week later, when I was exchanging my vows with another man, Gerald was standing there in the aisle, looking up at me with reddened eyes.

I'd been with Leo Abernathy for five years, and his ex-girlfriend, Cressida Hollingsworth, had spent those same five years trying to come between us. Cressida bet me that Leo would always choose her over me. She had dragged me into a pool and forced me to stand with her on a rooftop ledge, all to make Leo choose between us. Every time, Leo held on to my hand. After her ninth failed attempt, Cressida finally gave up. She stopped coming near me and stopped texting Leo. She even left our social circle, quit her job, and started going on blind dates. I thought I'd finally won the five-year battle. Then, on our wedding day, the wedding coordinator announced the groom's entrance six times, but Leo never showed up. When he finally showed up, he looked frantic. "Cressida is about to marry a man she's met only once on a blind date. We have to cancel the wedding. I need to stop her." I stared at him, suddenly realizing what a joke these five years had been. He'd chosen me the first nine times. But on our wedding day, he chose Cressida. I pulled off my ring and hid it in my palm. "Cressida and I made a bet. If you're choosing her, then we're done for good."

Cole Sullivan's intermittent amnesia has lasted for three years. Every so often, he'll forget me and fall hopelessly in love with my younger sister, Roselle White. The night before our wedding, he loses his memory again. I sit right beside his hospital bed, yet his eyes pass over me as if I weren't there and land once again on Roselle. Mom and Dad have long since gotten used to smoothing things over. "Rach, you know about Cole's condition. Don't take it personally." I make an excuse to leave. Halfway down the hall, I realize I've forgotten my phone. I've just reached the door when I hear my family laughing and talking inside the room. "So, Cole, how do you plan to tell Rachel about your wedding with Roselle?" Mom asks. "I'll book her a trip around Eurora. By the time she gets back, everything will be settled," Cole answers. "And when you do 'marry' Rachel, we can give her a fake marriage certificate to fool her for a while," Dad adds with a laugh. Roselle sounds hesitant. "What if Rach finds out?" "Then, she finds out," Cole says indifferently. "Saves us the trouble of coming up with more lies, anyway." I stand outside the door, my fingertips turning cold. It turns out his so-called intermittent amnesia in the last three years has been a mere performance, written and directed for me alone to watch. I sink to the floor and slowly pull off the glaring engagement ring I've been wearing, then toss it into the trash can in the hallway. Since no one here truly cares about me, I'll give them exactly what they want and disappear from their lives for good.

The male lead I picked out, James Linden, doesn't love me anymore. He's broken away from the and has fallen in love with the secondary female lead, Yvette West. On the day of our wedding, he insists on making things official with her. "You've gone mad, James! We arranged your marriage to Mia with the Churchill family ages ago!" James' father, Jack Linden, yells angrily at him. He attempts to stop James, but the latter has already gotten carried away and is poised to escape alongside Yvette. I sigh as I listen to the system clamoring in my ears, informing me that the romance between the male and female leads has been ruined. "Then, let's just choose another male lead," I say tiredly, looking around until my gaze lands on a man with delicate features. "He'll do," I declare. James still thinks that as long as he breaks free from the main plot and loves Yvette boldly, he can turn her into the female lead. However, he doesn't know that I'm the one who decides who gets to be the male lead.

While tidying the house, I discover that my newly bought pack of sanitary pads has been opened. Without any hesitation, I contact my lawyer to have him draft up a divorce agreement and send it to Lucas Gardner. It doesn't take long before Lucas calls me. "This again? What's your reason this time?" Biting my lower lip, I answer, "There's one less pad in my drawer."

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.