Scumbag Awakening Short Stories & Novels

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

Blaire Presley goes to the Carter residence, battered and bruised after being tormented by the three Carter brothers for three days. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter Senior, I've decided to marry Matthew Carter." Olivia Barrymore is surprised. "Are you sure you have the right guy, Blaire? Matt is those three brats' uncle!" Blaire isn't sure, but she has no other choice.

In the seventh year of being in love with the Don, George Grimaldi, I said yes to his proposal. Inside a top-tier luxury bridal boutique, I stood in front of the mirror wearing the first wedding gown of my life. I looked at myself again and again and couldn’t stop smiling. Behind me, he watched in silence for a long moment. Then suddenly, he spoke, “Oh, right. We can’t get married for now. I’m married to someone else.” For a second, I thought I had misheard him. However, my entire body went stiff. The color drained from my face. “Josie is a benefactor of my family,” he explained casually, like he was talking about the weather. “My father insisted I register with her. But don’t worry. She won’t affect our relationship.” My ears rang. It took me a long time before I could finally process his words. “So you’ve been lying to me for seven years?” He frowned, as if I were the unreasonable one. “I wasn’t lying. I just forgot to tell you. This is my fault. If you don’t mind, we can still hold the wedding as planned—the gown, the ring, the honeymoon. You’ll have everything you deserve.” I lowered my gaze. My hand drifted down and rested gently against my lower abdomen. There was something else here, too—a secret I had planned to tell him today.

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

The day before our wedding, my fiancé Cyrus eloped with his long-lost love. I chased after him, but he shoved me away viciously, causing me to lose consciousness. When the doctor called him as my life was on the brink, all he did was scoff and say, “She’s just pretending again. In a coma? Hah, she’s still alive, isn’t she?” That moment, my heart shattered. After I was discharged from the hospital, I cancelled the wedding, just as he wanted. But then he began to regret it…

I'd spent six months saving every penny for prenatal care, but the money vanished overnight. Panicking, I called my fiancé, only to see him on another woman's social media. The man's busy silhouette radiated excitement, with a luxury handbag sitting at the edge of the photo. The caption read: "Mr. Wellington is such a gentleman! Today's happiness starts with snagging the last designer bag at the boutique~" When I came out of surgery, my furious fiancé finally showed up. His first words were an accusation. "Can you stop treating me like I'm on a leash?" "My friend was feeling down, so I bought her a bag and kept her company. What's wrong with that? Why are you so petty!"

My husband’s family has a tradition of couples living apart together, and he can't publicly acknowledge our relationship until a son is born. He forces me to respect his family's traditions and tells me to raise our daughter alone. Six years after we got married, Andrew Sonovan inherits everything his late brother left behind, including his widow, Kasey Jordan. To satisfy his family's demands for him to carry on both lines, he sleeps with Kasey time and time again. Then, he holds me in his arms. "I can have a proper wedding with you once Kasey gets pregnant and carries on my brother's line. Hold on for a bit longer…" However, all I get is the news of him marrying Kasey. "Marry me, Kasey! I'll make you the happiest woman in the world!" I watch as Andrew gets on one knee in the glow of the flickering candlelight. He looks at Kasey lovingly as he proposes. Meanwhile, she rubs her baby bump, looking blissful. My daughter and I stand outside the room and witness their happiness. It's only then do I understand that I'm the only one who's been in the dark for the past six years.

After Nathan Seville stands me up for the seventh time we're supposed to register our marriage, I finally cut all ties with him—completely and on my own terms. If he shows up at a gathering, I don't go. If he's invited to perform at the college anniversary, I leave early. The moment my company decides to work with him, I resign on the spot. Even on Christmas Eve, when he shows up at my house with gifts, I make up an excuse about needing to visit someone. Calls? Blocked. Socials? Deleted. My strategy is simple—cut it all off. I don't reach out, and he has no way of finding me. For the first 30 years of my life, I spent most of it loving him with everything I had. I cared for him, supported him, and waited for him. But after being left hanging for the seventh time at the City Hall, I finally wake up. I don't want to live like this anymore. Even if I end up alone, it's still better than spending night after night waiting in an empty house that never feels like home!

My usually low-key boyfriend, Wade Sullivan, suddenly announces our relationship in our class group chat. "Hey, everyone, you're all welcome to celebrate Thanksgiving at Merry Mountain Villa, which my parents own. I'll cover your flights, meals, and accommodations. You can also witness me propose to Lucille." The group chat instantly explodes. "Holy crap! When did you two start dating? You've been keeping it pretty well hidden, huh." "I heard Merry Mountain Villa costs 880 dollars a night, and it's still impossible to book a room. Wade, who knew you were secretly a rich hottie?" My best friend, Danielle Klein, excitedly sends me more than a dozen voice messages in a row. "Lucille, you've finally made it! Wade is finally willing to take you home to meet his parents!" But I can only stare at my screen, a chill creeping down my spine. My boyfriend of ten years has always found excuses to avoid letting me meet his parents during the holidays. He doesn't even dare to post a couple of photos with me on Instagram. And now, out of nowhere, he invites the entire class to his hometown to witness our proposal? The more I think about it, the more uneasy I feel. So, I break up with him right then and there. That very night, I accept my company's overseas transfer to Terraton. It isn't until Thanksgiving night that I finally drag my suitcase out of the airport, only for my phone to vibrate like crazy. I have 186 missed calls and over a thousand unread messages in the group chat. Danielle sends me a private voice message, her voice trembling with despair. "Whatever you do, don't answer any calls or reply to any messages. And run as far away as you can!" I open the class group chat, and my scalp instantly prickles with horror.

I'm about to get married under the witness of the Goddess of the Moon. However, Carl Erickson, my partner of ten years, doesn't know it yet. Carl has recently hired a new assistant—Ivy Keating. Everyone in the wolf pack knows something amorous is going on between them; they frequently "discuss work" until the wee hours of the night. A celebration that's supposed to be for our anniversary turns into Ivy's birthday celebration. Carl orders a ten-layer mango cream cake for the celebration—it's Ivy's favorite. They get cream everywhere, but they've forgotten I'm seriously allergic to mangoes. A regular mango is as lethal to me as wolf venom is. I'm taken away by an ambulance to be rescued, and I'm alone when I wake up. Carl is still at the party, celebrating Ivy's birthday. My wolf growls unhappily, and my love for Carl dies. It's then that I agree to the marriage my family has arranged for me. I'm going to marry a true Alpha.

For six months, I pick through trash to scrape together enough money to buy Mom a beautiful dress for her birthday. I can't wait to give it to her. But the moment I hand her the dress, her gentle smile vanishes. She screams, shoves me to the floor, and grabs a chair. She brings it down on me again and again. "Did that monster put you up to this? Did he tell you to give me this dress just to hurt me? You've got his blood in your veins! I should've known you'd turn on me!" She beats me until I'm barely breathing, then runs out of the house, leaving me alone on the cold floor. As my vision blurs, a book suddenly opens before my eyes. That's when I learn the truth. I'm the tragic male lead in a dark novel. The story has that monster force himself on Mom just to give me a miserable childhood. I'm the reason her whole life was ruined. I smile and reach toward the glowing pages with a bloodied hand. I'll save Mom, even if it means I was never born.

My dad was a zombie. My mom? Even scarier. She was an uber-powerful mutant. At the crack of dawn, she was already yelling, "Derick Olson! Don't make me come over there! What kind of zombie are you? Glued to your headphones all day—are those audiobooks really that captivating?" I rolled over in bed and promptly fell right off. Scrambling to my feet, I started tidying up my room in a flash, terrified she might actually make good on her threat. "Look at Mr. Hoffman next door," she hollered. "He roams the streets day and night, probably gobbled up more brains than you've read books!"

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

After my husband died in a car accident, I worked tirelessly running a small restaurant to raise my son, Henry. Right before Henry's wedding, I won eight million in the lottery. Thrilled, I decided to sell the restaurant and finally enjoy retirement. So, I called to tell Henry about selling the restaurant, his usually polite fiancée turned hostile. "You're not expecting us to support you, are you? We've barely started working!" She even warned Henry, "If you spend any of our money on your mom, the wedding's off!" Henry argued with her but then reassured me, promising, "You've worked hard enough, Mom. I'll take care of you." Feeling pretty good, I planned to give him two million to start a business. The next day, I got a call saying Henry had been in a serious car accident and urgently needed fifty thousand for surgery. I sent the money immediately, but afterward, Henry vanished. Desperate, I braved a storm to find him in his city, only to walk into a wedding at some fancy hotel. There's Henry, giving a toast and calling another woman "Mom." And, oh, sitting beside her? My "dead" husband from ten years ago.

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

I saved the current queen with my medical expertise and ability to save patients from the clutches of death itself. To fulfil my long-time wish, the queen intended to order that I was to marry the son of a marquess, Eldwin Gennings. However, I fell on my knees and begged her to let me marry a notoriously useless rich heir instead. The queen was shocked. After all, everyone in the Royal Capital knew that I had been in love with Eldwin since we were young. I had even said several times that I would not marry anyone but him. In my past life, I had indeed married Eldwin, just as I wished, but on the night of our wedding, he left me waiting alone in our bedroom. The next day, he married my half-sister as his second wife. I was bullied and framed by my half-sister. As a result, Eldwin cut my wrist tendons and damaged my arms permanently. In the end, my wounds got infected, and I died. When I opened my eyes again, time had rewound to the day the queen ordered me and Eldwin to be married. This time, when he found out that I wanted to marry someone else, he went mad and begged me to take him in.

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"