Historias cortas de Reborn y novelas con Scumbag ambientadas en Face Slapping

I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.

Brandon Fenton, a scholarship student my father had been supporting, was drugged one night. After some consideration, I chose to lie beneath him. I had loved him for ten years. Giving myself to him felt like something I had long decided, something I owed to that love. But everything fell apart the moment Melissa Giles, his childhood sweetheart, walked in on us. Before she could even process what she saw, she ran out in a panic and was struck by a passing car, killing her on the spot. Brandon held me afterward, telling me it wasn't my fault. He even proposed to me. Because of that, Dad placed the entire company into his hands. But the day before our wedding, he set his plans in motion. He deliberately caused a car accident that took Dad's life. When I was at my lowest, drowning in grief, Brandon took me deep into the woods. There, he drove his car over my body, crushing me repeatedly just so I could feel the same agony Melissa had suffered before she died. "If you hadn't drugged me, why would I have ever touched you? If not for you, Melissa would still be alive! I hate you. All of you deserve to die!" And then, after the pain reached its unbearable peak... I opened my eyes and found myself back on the very day Brandon was drugged.

On a flight, my boyfriend Cassio tried to steal a seat for his pregnant childhood sweetheart. Last time, I stopped him. I forced him to return the seat to its rightful owner. Out of spite, his sweetheart Ella refused to take the seat. She stood through the entire flight. By the time we landed, she miscarried. She bled out and died. Cassio never blamed me. He arranged her funeral quietly… Then married me. He gave me the best prenatal care, the finest doctors, and a seemingly perfect life. Until the day I went into labor. He put me on a long-haul flight with multiple layovers. And when I collapsed in a filthy airport restroom, bleeding and barely conscious— He looked down at me with pure hatred. “Serena, this is what you owe her.” “If you hadn’t interfered back then, Ella would still be alive.” “Today, you and your bastard child will pay for her and her baby.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that flight. Watching him berate the plainly dressed woman, I quietly put on my noise-canceling headphones. He didn’t know that woman was the beloved wife of the most dangerous mafia Don in the city. And the kick he was about to deliver— Would be their death sentence. This time, I just watched.

After my boyfriend risked his life to save me in a fire, I proposed to him. But he refused, saying he was burdened with massive debt and wasn’t worthy of me. From then on, I worked five jobs a day, just to pay off what he owed as soon as possible. But fate had other plans. I was diagnosed with brain cancer. When I finally saved enough and went to say goodbye, I overheard his conversation with his friends. “The heir of the Law family, pretending to be broke in front of some poor girl. Seriously?” “She’s worked herself to the point of coughing up blood. You really don’t feel anything?” Landon Law curved his lips into a faint smile. “This is just a test for her. Once we’re married, I’ll treat her well.” “And what about Clara Shaw? She’s coming back soon. That rich girl has been talking about marrying you for years.” After a long silence, he finally spoke. “They’ve both been through hard times with me. I can’t let either of them down.” “But Clara’s fragile. She can’t handle any shock. She wouldn’t survive without me. I have to protect her. “Stella is understanding. As long as I give her the position of Mrs. Law, she’ll accept it.” The moment I heard that, everything went black, and I collapsed. When I woke up again, Landon was gripping my hand tightly. “Stella, don’t be afraid! Even if I lose everything, I’ll make sure you get treated!” A mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my mind. [Congratulations. You have been granted the ability to detect lies.] [Accumulate more than five detected lies from the male lead to exchange for a full recovery from brain cancer.]

The century-long war was over. My sister and I were the Alpha's daughters. The strongest pack in the North. We were forced into a marriage alliance with the Evernight vampire kingdom. A witch prophesied a powerful hybrid would be born to our family. A child destined to be king. Soon, my sister and I were both pregnant. I didn't care about giving birth to the prophesied ruler. I just wanted my child to be safe and healthy. But I never expected what happened. My sister, Liliana, gave birth to the hybrid king. Her mate, the first prince, Damien, was immediately named Crown Prince. And me? I gave birth to a monster. A beast born in its feral wolf form, all fangs and fury. I was branded unclean. My mate, the second prince Kael, was executed for my "sin." Burned to ash. Only in my last moments did I learn the truth. The monster my sister had swapped for mine? It was hers. It was all a scheme. A plot she and Damien hatched to hide a defect in his bloodline and steal the throne. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back before everything went to hell. And my sister was walking toward me, a smile on her face, a glass of juice in her hand…

The Day I Was Reborn, I Rejected the Alpha In my previous life, on my third year as Luna, I took an arrow tipped with wolfsbane meant for my Alpha mate Julian. My wolf was nearly killed, and I lay comatose for three full years. When I finally woke, Julian held my sister Lyra's hand and told me they were in love. He wanted me to step aside. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, pressured me to accept it. I refused. When the three of them closed in on me, I appealed to the Council of Elders. In the end, the Council ruled that Lyra be exiled. She couldn't bear the humiliation, and took her own life. Julian let me keep my title as Luna, but he hated me for the rest of his life. He would look at me with cold, dead eyes. "You should never have woken up. Then I wouldn't have lost Lyra." My adoptive mother blamed me too — for killing my sister, for destroying our family. Seven years later, grief and alcohol had hollowed Julian out completely. On his deathbed, the cold mask slipped. He gripped my hand. "In the next life... will you let me have Lyra?" Something in me went numb. After Julian was gone, the pack fell apart without an Alpha. Every one of them cursed me for being the one still alive. In the fighting that came after, my own pack handed me over to a rival pack. They put a dozen arrows through me. I died alone in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes, I was back — back to the day I first woke up.

The day my husband, Stellan Montclair, was killed in battle, my cousin, Daphne Langford, wept and declared she would follow him in death. No one asked for my opinion. By the time I arrived, they had already decided everything. In seven days, Daphne would be laid to rest alongside my husband in the Montclair family crypt, bearing the title of his lawful wife. When I stepped into the chapel, I found Daphne reclining on a cushioned chair with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead while my mother-in-law, Vivienne Prescott, personally spoon-fed her warm broth. Meanwhile, my son, Ansel Montclair, had been kneeling before the coffin for six hours straight, both legs so swollen that they were trembling. No one told him to get up. No one offered him a cushion to kneel on. Vivienne glanced up at me. "You're back. Daphne's being interred in the Montclair crypt as the lawful wife in seven days. See to the arrangements." In my previous life, I did not dare disobey. The entire capital praised Daphne for the depth of her devotion. Vivienne called her a woman of honor. The moment I so much as furrowed my brow, countless mouths stood ready to call me petty and small-hearted. Yet seven days later, Stellan came back from the dead. Only then did I learn that he had taken a death-feigning potion so that he could openly and rightfully marry Daphne. I was cast from wife to concubine and spent the rest of my life crushed under Daphne's thumb. My son was stripped of his status as the legitimate heir, barred from the family title, and left to scrape by among commoners for the rest of his days. This time, though, I was living it all over again. I crouched down and lifted Ansel from the cold stone floor. Then, I looked at Vivienne. "If her devotion runs that deep, let her be buried with him today."

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

After I get detained in the police station, my husband, Gavin Pratt, specifically comes over to bail me out. But I grip a policeman's arm without letting go. "I'm the one who did it! Hurry up and arrest me!" In my previous life, I was surrounded by the family members of a car crash victim. A bar owner and a saleswoman who sold cosmetics were there as well. They claimed that I had gone into a drunken frenzy and stole perfume from the store. On top of that, I even ran a red light and hit someone with my car. I kept explaining the truth to everyone, yet no one believed me. Instead, they all had me surrounded and beat me up till I died. When I wake up again, I've returned to the day I'm detained inside the police station.

On my ninety-ninth rebirth, I stopped fighting with the real heiress, Lily Hart. I accepted every false accusation she threw at me and let my relationships with my two childhood friends fall apart. I told myself it was fine. At least Wayne Fall was still on my side. That lasted until Lily's birthday gala, when her gown suddenly slipped and nearly left her exposed in front of everyone. Wayne pulled her into his arms and, for the first time, turned his anger on me. "Do you even remember who you are? You're not a Hart by blood. What makes you think you can compete with Lily?" What he didn't know was that every time I tried to expose Lily, everyone I cared about died in horrifying ways. In the first life, my childhood friend, Adrian Cole, was crushed beneath a freight truck, his skull shattered. In the second, my cousin, Ryan Hayes, fell from a skyscraper and was torn apart on impact. In the third, my fiancé, Wayne, was trapped in a blazing fire and burned alive... Adrian and Ryan threw me into the estate's artificial lake. I couldn't swim. Water flooded my lungs until tears streamed down my face, but no matter how desperately I begged for help, neither of them reacted. By the time my consciousness finally faded away, someone dragged me out of the water. Then I heard them talking. "Looks like she's finally learned her lesson. At least you won't have to keep hypnotizing her anymore, Wayne. I was starting to worry all those pills would fry her brain." "There'll definitely be some cognitive damage... But we didn't have a choice. Lily's the Harts' real daughter. If she refused to give in, she'd end up being pushed out of the family sooner or later." So, the countless "rebirths" I'd experienced were nothing more than an illusion. I'd simply been hypnotized. But I never needed to cling to a place in the Hart family. I had a family of my own too.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

During a dinner party hosted by the Cassano crime family, a lace garter stained with dried fluid dropped out of Matthew's pocket. He was the Don's son-in-law. When questioned, Matthew insisted I had tried to seduce him, failed, and planted my own underwear on him as a setup. In my past life, I was just a maid for the Cassano family. Simply because I had a killer body and a pretty face, the hot-tempered mafia princess, Caroline, refused to listen to a word I said. She had me fed alive to a venomous snake. My parents came seeking justice, only to end up at the bottom of the river. In this life, I faced Matthew's setup once again. "She sneaked into my booth and threw herself at me! When I rejected her, she planted this on me to ruin my marriage with Caroline!" But I was no longer a lowly maid. I held a Ph.D. in Economics from Yale and served as the Chief Advisor for the Visconti family, a global mafia empire.

My son, Ryan Fischer, gets into a car accident and urgently requires a blood transfusion. I get on my knees and beg my widowed sister-in-law, Serena Lowe, to donate her blood to him. However, my husband, Neil Fischer, stops me. "You can't use Serena's blood, because she's Ryan's actual biological mother," he says. I fail to understand the meaning behind his words. "Although Serena helps me take care of Ryan, he's still my child in the end!" I argue. After a momentary silence, Serena kneels before me. She reveals, "Now that things have come to this, I won't keep you in the dark any longer. Your actual son was smothered to death right after birth. Ryan is Neil's and my biological child. "We had you raise him because your family is well-off. They are capable of providing Ryan with a good education and job opportunities." I'm dumbfounded. I tug on the hem of Neil's shirt and beg him to tell me that Serena's lying, only to be coldly shaken off. He declares, "If not for this sudden turn of events, we would have kept this secret until your dying day." Consumed by rage, I suffer a sudden heart attack. And yet, Neil and Serena proceed to sign a Do-Not-Resuscitate order. Instead of saving me, they wheel me off to provide Ryan with a blood transfusion. As I lie on a hospital bed, dying in agony, their family hugs each other tearfully right next door. "That woman got exactly what she deserved. We can finally be openly reunited." When I next open my eyes, I find that I have returned to the moment before I gave birth.

One month after Mom died, Dad brought his mistress home. I screamed, cried, and hurled a glass at the woman and her daughter. The mistress immediately put on her fragile little act. Clutching her head, she leaned against my father and insisted she was fine. Dad flew into a rage. For the first time in my life, he yelled at me and ordered me back to my room. I was so furious that I ran away from home. He nearly gave himself a heart attack. “If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” But I left anyway. I didn’t even take a single cent with me. I wanted him to regret cheating on Mom. I wanted him to regret losing both of us. Only after I left did I realize how brutal the real world could be. I hadn’t even finished high school, so the only jobs I could get were manual labor, food delivery, and hourly gigs. I made just six hundred dollars a month. I couldn’t afford a decent apartment, so I had to share a cramped basement with strangers. Then one night, while rushing to make a delivery, I ran a red light. A semi-truck hit me head-on. I died alone in a morgue, unclaimed. Meanwhile, Dad was hosting a one-month birthday celebration for his newborn son at the family estate. He had a gentle wife, a son and a daughter, and a picture-perfect, happy family. And I died alone on a freezing winter night. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day his mistress and her daughter first showed up at our house. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply slipped my father a drug that would leave him infertile.

My childhood sweetheart hated me for tearing him away from the Beta's daughter, and he hated that my father was the pack's Alpha. My father not only sent the woman my childhood sweetheart loved off to another pack to be their Luna, he even refused to let him reject the mate bond that tied us together. For seven years after the marking, he wept every single night. "The North is bitter and brutal. How will Gianna ever survive there?" But to me, the woman he lived beside every day, he had only this to say. "Why did the Moon Goddess bind us together? I don't care about Alpha blood at all..." "If I could, I'd wish I had never met you!" Every night we shared one bed, yet our hearts felt miles apart. For Gianna's sake, he fought against the pull of fate itself. But the day the vampires attacked the pack, he shielded me behind him. Claws tore through fur, fangs sank into his forearm, and a cold silver dagger buried itself in his heart. His scalding blood splashed across me. I tried to drag him to the statue of the Moon Goddess, but he shoved me away without a moment's hesitation. "I've already failed the woman I love in this life. I won't fail the pack too." "Matilda, the bond between us is finally broken. In the next life, may we each get what we truly want..." With that, his wolf faded into nothing. The pack was destroyed, and I would not go on living in a world without it. That day I cut out my own heart with a silver blade, and as the Alpha's daughter, I shielded the pack's people with my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they chose who would be sent north to marry. "Father, I'm willing to go to the North and become the Luna of its Alpha." This time, I'll let them have their happiness, and I'll claim my own!

Three days before the wedding, the Lawsons held a bride appraisal event for me. The full mark was 100, and I scored 89. Yves Lawson, my fiancé, sighed in front of the guests. "Rules are rules, Emilia. You scored less than 90. So, the wedding will be delayed by a year." My best friend, Wendy Shaw, stood right beside him, begging with tears in her eyes. "She's already great enough. Can’t she have another shot?" In my previous life, I thought they were actually defending me. So, I held back my dissatisfaction and waited for a year. Over that year, the Lawsons' estate project made money, Yves changed the prenup's terms, and Wendy eventually became the one to marry Yves. My eyes snapped open, and I was back to that appraisal event. I looked at the score on the screen, and I took the mic. "I accept the delay, but before that, I'd like to find out who graded me a one."

My sister Seraphina and I were inseparable growing up. She played the fierce protector. She called herself my guardian angel. Deep down, she was a snake. She wanted everything I had. She stole my man—Rocco, a Capo in the Philly mafia's Cianci family. Her excuse? She wanted to "test" his loyalty to me. She claimed she was shielding me from his dark world of shootouts, blood, and FBI wiretaps. She maxed out the black card he gave me. Then she told him I bought a Rolex for a boy toy. She skimmed money from the family's money-laundering business. She pinned it on me. She said I was a gambling addict with massive debts. She got pregnant. Yet she still messed around with Rocco's uncle at a lavish yacht party. She got high and partied until she started bleeding. But in the end, I took the fall for everything. She spun a lie. She said I locked her in the bathroom out of jealousy. She panicked. She fell. The baby died. To avenge her, my man threw me into a rundown underground casino in Atlantic City. There, his uncle's mistress sold me to a pimp. I got hooked on drugs. Then they tossed me out on the streets. I was passed around from one man to another in pure humiliation. Until my body completely broke down. I died a slow, dirty, and lonely death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very night my sister miscarried after that crazy yacht party.

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.

The day I found out I was pregnant, my husband, Julian Calloway, told me he had been reborn and wanted a divorce. “Three months from now, I’ll go bankrupt. You’ll work yourself to death helping me pay off my debts, and you’ll die young. “This time, I absolutely refuse to drag you down with me. Take this $9,000,000. We’ll get divorced—” Before he could finish, I picked up the pen and signed. “Fine. Just transfer the money to my account.” That evening, while I was gathering my things from the living room, I overheard Julian’s secretary, Naomi Foster, speaking smugly through his phone. “I can’t believe she’s actually that stupid. How did she ever get into Harvard? “You made up some ridiculous story about being reborn and going bankrupt, and she actually believed you.” Julian chuckled. “Who cares? If she leaves quietly with the money, isn’t that better than having her make a scene?” I raised an eyebrow. Of course I knew he was lying. Because I really had been reborn. And in one month, Julian Calloway really would go bankrupt.

After a seven-year relationship, I was supposed to walk down the aisle with my fiancé, Julian Bailey, next week. Heart filled with joy, I went to try on wedding dresses. That very night, private footage of me from the fitting was turned into AI-generated deepfakes and uploaded to every major social platform. In my past life, I had tried to convince people of my innocence. No one did. In public, my fiancé took the moral high ground, declaring he’d never take back a ruined woman. My parents claimed I had humiliated them and threw me out onto the street. Cornered and desperate, I jumped off a bridge. After I died, my fiancé pulled my trembling best friend into his arms, whispering softly: “It’s over now. Nothing can stand in our way. “Good thing she was such an idiot. She went to her grave suspecting nothing, thinking it was all her fault.” The truth chilled me to the bone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact second before stepping out to the fitting. My fiancé’s call came through. “Hazel, have you left yet? Laura and I are waiting at the boutique.”