Mga Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa Plot Twists at mga Nobela ng Scumbag na may Regret

My family is human. We were gifted a long life by the Thorne clan, something close to immortality. For generations, we’ve been their most loyal guardians. And I fell in love with Cedric, the vampire lord I was sworn to protect. For a hundred years, I was his secret. His sin. His only bedmate. I was his shield against dark magic. The sworn protector of his vast clan. I thought I’d earn the mark of an eternal bond. I was even ready for him to turn me. After all, on every blood moon, he would claim my body. Then, at the peak of an agonizing pleasure, he’d sink his fangs into my neck and drink my blood. He’d press his cold lips to my skin and whisper that I was his one and only. That no other blood, no other body, could make him lose control like this. But this time, the moment he was finished with me, he announced his eternal bond with Elsie, the pureblood princess of the Valerius clan. He smirked at the shock on my face. "You're just a human, gifted a long life by my ancestors. My bed warmer. You didn't actually think you could be my mate, did you?" In that moment, I understood. I was just a renewable blood bag. A tool with a purpose. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He cast me into the abyss and let the darkness swallow me whole. He thought the Guardian's Pact would chain me to him for eternity. But he forgot one thing. Every pact has a loophole. So I destroyed everything he ever gave me. Then, with my family's help, I vanished. But when the Lord of Eternal Night couldn't find his favorite toy… he went mad.

My boyfriend of five—Evan Callister, suddenly proposed to me. Everyone flooded me with congratulations. I felt happy too, quickly started planning our wedding. Then I overheard him talking with his gang friends. Apparently, I wasn’t his only option. Just one of five women he’d been seriously considering for marriage. A lineup that included his childhood sweetheart, a few of his long-time bed warmers, and some well-connected heiresses whose families could do wonders for his. “I didn’t imagine that you actually gonna marry Liora at the end, I thought Viola’s still the one you love.” And then Evan, “Liora’s father died. If I marry her, I could have all of her money and the casino. She cannot do a thing about it. She only has me as her family now.” “And what if Viola hears about your wedding and freaks?” his friend teased. Evan chuckled. “I told her that I will make Liora conveniently die after the wedding. Then her and I can get marry instead.” My heart iced over. But I didn’t cry or confront or even blink. Instead, I made the call to the man my father had always wanted me to marry — the one of noble status, the one everyone admired, the one I’d avoided. And just said one thing, “My wedding is three days from now. Come and elope with me.”

Seven years into dating, Kirk came to pick me up from work in the pouring rain. I opened the door to the front passenger seat, finding the fabric soaked and a single strand of hair stuck to it. Kirk kept both hands on the wheel, not even glancing at me. “I dropped an intern from the project department off at home. She was drenched since she didn’t have an umbrella with her.” I sat on the damp seat, my heart sinking. “Kirk, you, of all people, should know I have anxiety about certain things.” “It’s just a seat. She’s younger and more interesting than you. Heck, she looks prettier even when she’s drenched. “I’ve been with her, and honestly, she’s a lot more fun. “I’ll still propose to you, but you need to stay oblivious for us to carry on.” The rain battered the windows, yet it was the tension inside the car that left me struggling to breathe.

When my husband learns of his first love's death, he jumps from the cruise ship where we are spending our honeymoon, ending his life. Only then do I realize he has never gotten over Clara Levine. Reborn back to his teenage years, he resolutely lets go of my hand and walks toward his first love. I watch them leave together, then turn and walk away. From that moment on, our lives become nothing more than two parallel lines that will never meet. Ten years later, we run into each other at a banquet in Oceanus City. He has become a rising star among the elite, with Clara appearing on his arm, intimately holding onto him. When he sees me accidentally wander into the banquet, he can't help but give me advice. "Stop obsessing over me. Even if you wait for me for ten years, I still won't fall in love with you." I ignore him and pull my son out from the corner where he's sneaking cake. His eyes suddenly turn bloodshot as he grabs my hand tightly. "How dare you try to make me jealous on purpose? Didn't you say you would only love me for your entire life?" he says.

My wedding to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Mafia, was only days away. When I got home from my final dress fitting, I found he had made the house over into something painfully romantic. Flowers, candles, stacks of gift boxes... Excited as I was, I could not help wondering why. Today was not a special day. He pulled me into his arms and fed me a mouthful of wine from his own lips, his eyes smiling. "I knew you'd forget the anniversary of the day we got together." My stomach dropped. The anniversary was not today. While he was in the shower, his phone went off. A calendar alert popped up on the screen. "Today is your relationship anniversary." I frowned, opened the calendar, and scrolled back through a few pages. Every date he had marked, I realized, traced back to Camille Ricci, his first love. Her period, her birthday, her lucky days... Twelve months, hundreds of entries, packed so tight there was barely any space left between them. I gripped the phone, and the cold went all the way through me. Dante came out with a towel around his waist, saw me still standing there, and teased me with a grin. "Why are you just standing there? Want me to carry you to bed?" I did not call him on it. I said I needed to go over the wedding schedule, and I left. That night I returned the dress, canceled the wedding, and accepted the offer from the university in New York.

When I was nine, I was caught in the blast while trying to save Joel Yorks, and the loud wave took away my hearing. Since then, I have had to wear hearing aids. Joel felt guilty. He insisted on having my hand in marriage. With his eyes welling up in tears, he swore, “Helen, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” However, when I turned eighteen… Everything changed because he wanted to please the prettiest girl in the school. He ripped off my hearing aid in front of her and our classmates and said in disdain, “I’ve had enough of you being a burden. I really wish you hadn’t survived that day when you were nine. It would have been better if you were dead.” I clutched my audiology report and stayed silent. When I got home, I quietly revised my college applications and formally broke the engagement along with my parents. Joel and I would go our separate ways after that. We would not need to meet again.

Natalie Shaw, the dance company's new understudy, slipped razor blades into my practice outfit and left my back slashed and bloody. My boyfriend, Derek Mercer, the theater's associate director, sent her makeup case skidding across the room with one furious kick. "Touch her again, and I'll end you!" Natalie was thrown out of the rehearsal room, her eyes rimmed red. After that, she didn't just refuse to back down. She hired a few thugs to corner me in the alley behind the theater. Derek threw himself in front of me to block a steel pipe, fracturing his arm. Everyone said Derek would die for me. Then, at a sponsors' dinner the night before the tour, I drank a glass of wine Natalie handed me. Within minutes, my limbs went slack and my skin began to burn. I dragged myself into a storage closet at the end of the hall, only to hear Natalie's syrupy voice just outside the door. "The way you took that beating for her two days ago almost broke my heart. But..." Fabric rustled, and Natalie giggled. "Back in the private dining room, you watched me slip something into her drink. You knew those sponsors had cameras ready and were waiting for her. And you just stepped out for a smoke." "You let me destroy her reputation, so the principal role is mine now. Right?" Derek said nothing. He only pinned her against the door. The door vibrated slightly, striking a heavy blow against my heart. He had already given his heart to someone else.

Five years after their breakup, Lauren Scott signed a master-servant contract with Yale Sutton, the ex-boyfriend who had been penniless when they were together. Yale would pay off her debts, and in return, Lauren had to fulfill his every demand. "Lauren, take off one piece of clothing, and I'll knock a million off your debt." Yale spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. Around the private room, the men hooted and cheered while the women laughed and made teasing remarks. Lauren gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just don't go back on your word, Mr. Sutton." Without a moment's hesitation, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor, baring her porcelain-white skin and most of her full, rounded breasts. The room fell silent for a moment before whistles erupted from every direction.

After the Covenant Gala, Mother handed me a list. The names of every vampire at the banquet. I was to choose a blood-bound mate. This time, I didn't choose Damon Blackwood. I didn't choose anyone on her list. I chose Caspian Blackwood. Damon’s ancestor. The true Monarch of the Blackwood clan, slumbering for centuries. Mother’s jaw dropped. Everyone knew I’d spent centuries chasing Damon. But they didn't know the truth of my last life. After our blood bond, he refused my touch, my bed, my very existence. I told myself he was consumed by Covenant affairs. When no heir came, I blamed myself. Then I found it. The truth. It had always been her. From the very beginning. My sister, Delia. He never came home because the sight of me repulsed him. But this time, as Caspian and I stood at the altar, our hands clasped to seal our bond… Damon snapped.

I was doing the laundry when another pair of lace panties slipped out of my husband's pants pocket. Before I could say a word, he raised an eyebrow and handed me a plastic vase. "Go on. Smash it." He acted as though it were perfectly natural. It was the same routine every time I caught him cheating over the past seven years. I looked around, and only then did I realize what he'd done. He'd replaced every breakable thing in our home with something made of plastic or stainless steel. He was used to my hysterical outbursts by now. He thought our marriage was just like all that plastic. No matter how hard I tried, I could never break it. But this time, I calmly put the vase back where it belonged. "Let's get a divorce."

My avoidant fiance refused to talk to me about anything. Every time we fought, he would put on his earphones and turn the volume all the way up. This time, we were arguing over laundry detergent again. He impatiently slammed the earphones on me. "Are you seriously going to do this again, Jessica? You fight because of bad photos. You start a fight because I didn't take out the trash in time, and you start fights because I forgot our anniversaries. And now I can't even choose which detergent I use?" I stared at the red mark on my thigh and the broken earphones on the ground. I saved up most of my salary for that. It was a present, but now he was using it to vent. Yet he had kept the laundry detergent his childhood friend gave him for six whole years. Every time an important date was coming up, he would use a bit of it to wash all his clothes. The sickly sweet scent of that detergent filled the room. I looked up and held back my tears. "Let's break up, Zack."

On our son's fifth birthday, I found the texts on Stanley's phone—from his best friend's widow: [Stanley, the kid misses his dad again. When are you coming over?] [Stanley, Archie liked a set of matching family outfits. I already ordered them. Let's wear them together this weekend.] [Stanley, Archie starts school tomorrow. I put your name down under "father." Hope that's okay?] And Stanley? He was all in: [Loretta's asleep. I'll head over now.] [My size is 3XL. Don't get the wrong one.] [It's fine. You two have always been my responsibility.] I stood there, frozen. Then I called him back in from the living room, where he'd been helping Luca open gifts. He didn't deny it. Just hugged me and started rambling. "Hallie's Howard's widow. I promised I'd look out for her and Archie. I know I messed up. It won't happen again." We'd been together ten years. Luca had just turned five. Ending a marriage over a few texts felt dramatic. So I let it slide. Believed him. We even went out to celebrate Luca's birthday. Then his phone lit up on the table: [Stanley, the kid's crying for his dad before bed. I can't calm him down.] Stanley shoved his chair back and walked out—no hesitation. I looked at Luca. He was startled at the noise. And just like that, divorce didn't feel so dramatic anymore.

For our fifth anniversary, Zach Jennings made a reservation at an exclusive resort outside the city. But when Zach came to pick me up, Lily Lane was sitting in the back seat. She was the daughter of his former advisor and a junior in his program. He rolled down the window. "Lily's headed out that way too. I'll drop her off on the way." We'd barely been driving for ten minutes when we got caught in a chain-reaction crash on the overpass. In that split second, Zach yanked the wheel and flung his right arm across Lily to shield her. Five years earlier, he'd put his body between me and danger in the same way. It had convinced me I'd found someone who would always put me first, someone I could trust with my life. I sat in the passenger seat, and the impact threw me into the windshield. Blood immediately streamed down my forehead. Still shaken, Zach twisted around. The first person he checked on was Lily. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" It wasn't until Lily pointed at me, close to tears, that Zach spun toward me in a panic. His eyes darted away from my bleeding forehead as he hurried to explain, "Eva, don't read too much into it. There's an airbag up front. I only put my arm out for her on reflex." I wiped the blood from the corner of my eye. I'd never been more clearheaded. When lives are on the line, instinct doesn't lie. The person he cared about most wasn't me anymore. So I wasn't going to stay with him.

On our second anniversary, my boyfriend Blake messaged to say he had lost me to one of his friends in a racing game. Right after that, the video of me collapsing at last year's shifting trial went into his group chat. In it, I lay curled on the ground without so much as a strand of wolf fur appearing. The chat erupted. "That counts as a werewolf? She's a rabbit in a wolf skin." "Whoever won her is out of luck. Imagine having to mate with a broken wolf." Someone opened a book on it soon enough. The wager was how long it would take for me to be discarded. My boyfriend was the first to bet that I would be discarded within a month. "Eric values strength above everything. He has said that only a strong Gamma warrior deserves to be his mate. "Still, a bet is a bet. Eric can make it through one month until the forfeit is over." Serena, who had grown up alongside Blake, tagged me in the group and did not bother hiding the mockery. "Liora, you won't last a week before he's sick of you, will you?" Reading it, I smiled. Nobody knew that after that collapse, my wolf had begun to evolve. And nobody knew that a month ago my father, the Alpha, had issued a decree naming me the pack's next Alpha. I typed a message into the group. "Blake, count me in on this bet."

Everyone in the pack knows Marcus has loved me for a decade—that I'm his destined mate. He's devastatingly handsome and brilliant, the youngest and most gifted pack healer we've ever had, with she-wolves practically throwing themselves at his feet. Yet this alpha prince has eyes only for me. But when I was nearly assaulted by a rapist, Marcus signed a settlement agreement on my behalf and issued a psychiatric diagnosis, condemning me to a mental institution. Inside the institution, I was attacked by the truly insane—they tore at my hair with clawed fingers and kicked my stomach until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, he held the rapist's sister Victoria close and told me: "Emma, I'll take care of you. I'll compensate you when you get out, but Victoria has severe depression. She can't handle her brother getting in trouble." Even more ridiculous—when I begged him to let me see my suicidal sister one last time, he was honeymooning with that woman in Iceland, hanging up on my eighty-nine calls. The day my sister died, I coughed up blood in that mental hospital. Three years later, he came to get me, saying he still wanted to bring me home as his mate. Looking at his careful demeanor, I suddenly laughed. Marcus, do you know? No matter how high the mental hospital walls are, they can't stop someone who's crawled back from hell for revenge. What you owe me, what you owe my sister—I'll collect it all with interest, using what you care about most.

Before the wedding began, Rosien Valmont, the vampire prince, chained me to the blood altar. A dagger carved with a blood curse was pressed against my heart. "Give Bertha your blood one more time and I'll honor the blood pact. Otherwise the wedding is off." Rosien and I had loved each other for 200 years. He swore in front of the whole clan that he would make me his princess. Then, three years ago, everything changed when he brought Bertha Bell, a dying human, home. Whenever her illness flared, Rosien cut open my chest to draw my blood. On every full moon, pain ripped through my body as though my flesh were being torn apart. Bertha Bell lay pale in his arms. "Rosien, let it go! Katherine has waited a long time for this wedding. If she doesn't want to, I don't mind dying." When he looked at me again, there was nothing in his eyes but impatience. "Bertha saved my life. You're only giving up a few drops of blood." He pushed the dagger in another inch. "You begged for this wedding in the first place. I can call it off whenever I want. But if you're willing to give Bertha your blood, I'll still make you my princess." I looked down at the ring on my finger and laughed softly. "One last time." Rosien had no idea that this was the 99th time he had taken my blood. In three days, when the blood moon rose, the Founder bloodline sealed within me would fully awaken. I would take control of the clan.

"Your marriage is a $50 souvenir, Ms. Vance. And your husband's already married to someone else." In a single moment at the immigration office, my life as the wife of NHL superstar Liam Sterling evaporated. Our secret Vegas wedding was a fraud, and Liam was already legally married to his "manager," Sophia. But the cruelty didn't end there. Liam expected me to adopt a "war hero's orphan", a child that was actually his and Sophia's secret son. He didn't want a wife. He wanted a world-class doctor to fix his career and a free nanny to raise his real wife's child. Liam made one fatal mistake: he forgot that I'm the only one who can keep him on the ice. I signed a record-breaking contract with the Titans, his bitterest rivals. Now, while Liam's knee shatters during the playoffs, I'm on the enemy's bench, healing the only man who can destroy him. He want a nanny? I'm sure he'll get his worst nightmare.

All of New York knew that Caspian Solis, the Don of the Solis family, worshipped the ground I walked on. Then an ambush left him with amnesia. Not only did he forget me and our twenty years together, but he also mistook his secretary, Ivy, for the love of his life. He tossed our matching bracelets and stared at me with dead eyes. "You are not my type. Ivy is the woman I love." My heart shattered. I tried everything to help him remember. Until I overheard a conversation between him and his right-hand man: "Don, how long are you going to keep this up? What if your wife finds out you are faking the amnesia?" Caspian exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke, completely unbothered. "She won't." "I just want to have some fun while I am young. Eating the same meal every day gets stale, doesn't it?" "When I have had my fill, I will tell her my memory came back. After all, Lorelai is the one I truly love." Standing outside the door, I felt violently sick. A thought sparked in my mind: If Caspian could fake amnesia to play me, why couldn't I? So, I accidentally fell down a flight of stairs. When I woke up, I locked eyes with Caspian's ally and biggest rival—Zane, the most feared Don in New York. I smiled and threw myself into his arms. "There you are, darling."

My Alpha mate slept with his childhood sweetheart to suppress her wolfsbane poisoning using his Alpha power. At dawn he knelt in front of me, holding a woman whose clothes were half off and whose body was covered in bruises. "Lilia was poisoned saving me. As the Alpha of this pack, I couldn't stand there and watch her die in agony!" Certain it would move me, he cut himself seven times with a silver dagger to atone. But the wolfsbane was still in Lilia's blood, and every time it flared, my Alpha husband went to save her. Afterward, he would cut himself once more. Six months later, he came to me bearing ninety-nine scars. A man who had never bowed to anyone lowered himself to beg me. "Dora, I've repented with my own flesh and blood. Lilia can't bear to give up the baby. I'm begging you to spare that small life. "You have trouble conceiving. Once the pup is born I'll send Lilia to the border and let the child call you mother. You will always be the mate the Moon Goddess chose for me." My heart felt as if it were being torn apart. I held back my tears and answered calmly, "All right." I crushed the pregnancy report I had been hiding into a ball and threw it into the hearth fire.

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"