Reborn Short Stories & Scumbag Revenge Novels

The new reporter intern deliberately falsified the situation at the fire scene to secure a full-time position and create a headline. Because of her, firefighters who rushed in to fight the fire and nearly a thousand company employees were killed in an explosion. There were no bodies left to salvage. My husband, who was also my superior, gave false testimony for her sake and claimed I was the one who had made the decision. I lost my job, and everyone cursed me, telling me to die. On the day of the trial, a grieving family member of one of the victims threw a bottle of acid at me. I died in unbearable pain as the acid ate me alive. Meanwhile, my husband was busy comforting the intern. "Don't be afraid. She deserved this." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she made that false coverage.

When Jeremiah Jenner, an academician from a research lab, has bombs strapped to him by a malicious criminal, I know that I can save his life by cutting the right wire. But my husband, Callum Johnson, keeps pinning my hand down with all his might. He tells me that I should wait for his crush, Shirley Gibson, to arrive so that she can save the day for once. This was what happened in my previous life. Thanks to Shirley's mistakes, the timer's countdown decreased from ten minutes all the way down to ten seconds. I was the one who had to shove her away and cut the triggering wire based on my experience. That was how I saved Jeremiah's life. Shirley, on the other hand, was so frightened that she passed out on the spot. She became the laughingstock of the entire squad, which led to her leaving the squad due to depression. Callum didn't say a single word. Instead, he dispatched me to the border as a spy. On the day my mission was supposed to be wrapped up, Callum got in contact with me via a secretive channel. Then, he leaked my coordinates to my enemies on purpose. "Couldn't you just let Shirley play the hero for once? Since you like showing off that much, then you might as well stay as a heroine forever in this place!" The next thing I knew, I felt a bullet piercing through my chest. My enemies had me surrounded immediately before burning me alive, resulting in my death. As I breathed my last breath, I saw Callum embracing Shirley while watching me being licked hungrily by the flames from a long distance away. There was nothing but satisfaction in his eyes. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the scene where the bombs are set to be removed. Slowly, I put down the pliers in my hand. Fine. I won't steal Shirley's thunder this time. I'd like to see how the golden couple can maintain their bombastic, passionate relationship in a place that's about to be blown apart.

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.

Todd Robyn, the intern, had used some kind of savings-transfer trick on me. No matter how much money I put into my bank account, the balance always turned into fifty dollars. In my previous life, I dreamed of buying a place of my own near the office. At last, I scraped together a five-thousand-dollar down payment. But when I swiped my card, the sales agent told me it had been declined for insufficient funds. I checked my transaction history, confronted the bank, and even went to the police, but everyone treated me like a lunatic. After all, every single purchase on my bank statement was recorded in black and white. But I lived so frugally. I had never made any of those purchases! When I told my coworkers about it, a few of the men took one look at my statement and started mocking me, "Drew's always dropping thousands at some bar in the middle of the night. That's exactly the going rate for an all-night escort!" No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. I posted the whole story online anonymously. The comments accused me of making things up for attention so I could start selling products. Only one person suggested I keep an eye on the people around me and see whether anyone's spending matched the charges on my statement. So I watched closely, and sure enough, I noticed something about Todd, the new intern in our department. Every time he spent money, the same amount was deducted from my card. Even when he ordered a drink, the charge showed up on my account right away. Once I was sure, I confronted Todd directly. He laughed in my face and said I was a spendthrift who couldn't save a dime and now wanted to pin it on someone else. He said I'd completely lost my mind. He even got our coworkers to help him have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. After two years of torment there, I finally found a chance to escape and threw myself into the river. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before I was supposed to buy my home.

My fiancé, Charles, was crippled during a pack skirmish. He lost his wolf, leaving him unable to shift. My stepsister, Quinn, who had always despised me, eagerly offered to take my place in the mating ceremony. Her only condition was my grandmother’s antique necklace. Everyone said I was lucky to escape a life with a broken wolf. Only I knew I had dodged a death sentence. In my previous life, I used my healing gift to restore Charles’s wolf and became the celebrated Luna of the Sterling Pack. But Quinn, searching for a moonstone for Charles in the Forbidden Lands, was captured by a rival pack and tortured to death. Charles never marked me. Instead, he locked me away and starved me to death. "If you had just given Quinn the necklace, she wouldn't have been mauled by rogues," he’d snarled. "You can atone for your sins in hell!" Only then did I realize they had already forged a mate bond. The ceremony with me was nothing but a desperate charade. Reborn, I found myself back before the ceremony, just as Charles proposed the same arrangement to Quinn. But they don’t know. The only one who can heal Charles is me, not some cursed moonstone.

He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate The very first thing I decided to do after being reborn was to reject the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate Ethan. In my previous life, when Ethan tried to postpone our ceremony for the thirty-second time, I threatened him with the sacred laws of the Moon Goddess. Ethan eventually caved. To pacify my rage, he promised that nothing would interrupt us again. But that was the night his Omega mistress Ivy died. From that moment on, Ethan hated me with every fiber of his being. When I told him I was pregnant, he drowned me in the freezing North Sea. "You and that abomination in your belly deserve to die for her," he spat as he held my head under the water. I died in despair. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. Ethan looked impatient. "Selena, Ivy says her chest hurts.. We need to postpone the mark again." He expected me to beg. Instead, I unclasped the ceremonial collar and threw it in his face. "Go to her. I quit." Ethan sneered, "Stop acting. Without my scent, you’ll be back crawling on your knees in a week." He didn't know that an hour later, I was knocking on the door of his mortal enemy—Damon, the Tyrant of the North. When I posted a photo of the Winterborn Alpha’s ring on my finger with the caption "Upgrade my mate," Ethan went mad…

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.

My sister and I married into the Phoenix Clan at the same time and, coincidentally, gave birth at the same time. After my sister birthed a purebred golden phoenix, the eldest prince she married was immediately crowned the next leader of the Phoenix Clan. Meanwhile, I gave birth to a mixed-bred pheasant and was condemned to death along with my husband, who was the second prince. It was only after my death that I found out the pheasant was my sister’s child! It was a ploy concocted by her and the eldest prince. The goal was to hide the bastard bloodline of the eldest prince and steal the throne of the Phoenix Clan. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn. I didn't give birth, and my sister was visiting me with a haul of supplements…

Shortly after our wedding, my husband, Lucas Whitmore, got into a car crash that left him paralyzed. For over forty years, I gave up everything to take care of him. However, it wasn’t until the day he passed away that I discovered the sickening truth. In his will, he left every single cent to his high school crush. I was evicted from the home I’d called mine for decades. Shaking and leaning heavily on my cane, I dragged myself to a lawyer’s office to reclaim my legal share of the estate as his widow. That was when they dropped the second bomb: he had secretly divorced me years ago. Before I could even process the shock, Lucas’ high school crush, Lily Collins, showed up to rub salt in the wound. "You really had no idea, did you?" She sneered, leaning in close. "Lucas was so worried I wouldn't be able to support myself. He didn’t just find me a high-paying job. He transferred all his money, plus every single paycheck you earned over the years, straight into my account." She continued, "Oh, and remember how he never wanted kids with you? That was because we already had a son together. Honestly, I should thank you for paying to raise our boy." Rage boiled over inside me. My pulse thundered in my ears. Before I could do anything, Lily lunged forward. She grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back, and drove her sharp nails deep into my face. That night, her son hired a gang of thugs to corner me in an alley. They threw a burlap sack over my head and beat me to death, laughing while I spat up blood. Then, my eyes snapped open. I was staring at my husband. He was young again, his legs newly paralyzed, his eyes rimmed red as he stared at me with a pathetic, tragic expression. "Scarlett, the doctor said I’m never going to walk again," Lucas whined, his voice trembling, "What am I supposed to do if I can't get a job?" I quietly slid the debit card I had been about to hand him back into my pocket. A cold laugh ripped from my throat. "What are you supposed to do? I guess you can lie there and starve, and I'll throw you a real nice funeral when you're done."

On my birthday, my boyfriend ditched his childhood friend's desperate call to be with me. Devastated by his rejection, she spiraled into depression and ended her life. Heartbroken, he proposed to me beside her body. "I've already lost Giselle. I can't lose you, too." I said yes, moved by his grief and sincerity. But on our wedding night, he turned on me, hacking me with a knife. "You vile woman! Giselle died because of you. Time to feel her pain!" As I bled out, the girl waltzed back, saying she'd faked her death to spook him. Overjoyed, he pointed at my corpse. "Thank God, you're alive. This wretched woman is gone, and we're free to be together." They looted my wealth for their lavish wedding and happy life. When my eyes snapped open again, I was back on that fateful birthday.

After the Great War between humans and the Shifter races, an accord was struck, decreeing that the world would be ruled by a hybrid of the two races. The most powerful human family, a corporate dynasty, was granted the right to the first union with a Shifter leader. Whoever bore the first hybrid child would become the next ruler of the Alliance. In my past life, I married the werewolf Alpha, Jacob, and quickly bore him a wolf-human hybrid. When our son became the ruler of the Alliance, the werewolf clan’s power and influence soared. But my sister, Isabella, had always favored the beautiful elves. Her husband's philandering left her barren and riddled with disease after several miscarriages. She envied everything I had. In her rage, she orchestrated the car crash that killed my son and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the Alliance’s choosing ceremony. Isabella had already mated with Jacob, brazenly showing off the mark on her neck. I knew. She was back, too. What she didn't know was that Jacob was a madman, obsessed with his bloodline above all else. Without a second thought, I let her have him. I walked toward the one they all feared—the notoriously brutal and bloodthirsty Dragon Lord, the Dragon King, Damien Wyatt.

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.

At our wedding, my husband, Justin Garner, pushes me—three months pregnant—toward our enemies as an apology in order to save his foster sister, Clara Garner. "This is my sincerity. You can do whatever you want with her." I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly follow the enemies away. That's because in my previous life, I had traded all my wealth for freedom and returned to Justin's side. In the end, I was forced to drink drugs and lost my unborn baby, suffering for three days and nights. "Justin, those 'enemies' were people you hired to act, and Maxine didn't even lose her innocence. Why did you have to get rid of the baby?" Clara asks. Justin coldly laughs. "If you're acting, you have to make it look real." I died full of hatred. When I wake up again, I choose to let those people take me away. Three years later, when I arrive at a banquet on the arms of my new lover, Justin goes mad, grabbing me and demanding, "Maxine Preston, where is our child?"

In my previous life, my boyfriend's adopted younger sister, Rita Wood, came to me at the hospital for a prescription because she had a sore throat. I asked her if she was allergic to any medication, and I even explained the dangers of being allergic to medication. She told me "no" very firmly. When I insisted on producing the informed consent form and having Rita sign it, she started a video call with my boyfriend, Ryan Wood, on the spot. On the screen, Ryan frowned at me before saying coldly, "I know Rita's health very well. She definitely doesn't have a history of allergens. She's my younger sister, so don't keep targeting her over the smallest reasons. I'm very busy, you know. Bye." So, I gave in and prescribed Rita the medication without undergoing the official process. Three days later, Rita showed signs of miscarriage due to her allergy toward the medication, leading to her being sent to an emergency treatment room. Apparently, she hid both her allergy to medication and her pregnancy from me. Thanks to her, I was held accountable for this incident, which led to me losing my chance to get promoted. At the same time, this incident got onto the news as a medical mishap. I ended up getting blacklisted by the medical world permanently. Not only that, but I had to pay off a huge debt. In order to clear the debt, I worked three jobs at the same time through day and night without resting. Finally, I collapsed and never got up ever again on a particularly exhausting night. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Rita is here for a prescription.

My cheating husband came crawling back on our daughter Lily's fifth birthday. He was ruined. Fired over a dirty scandal. Dumped by his gold-digging mistress the second his cash dried up. He begged me to save our marriage. In my last life, I was weak. I stayed for the kids. My reward? He went insane. In the dead of night, he locked the doors of our Greenwich estate. Poured gasoline everywhere. And lit a match. My parents. My four babies. Me. And him. All eight of us burned to ashes. But then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day of Lily's party. This time, I will protect my family. And I will send that demon to hell.

On my wedding day, my husband's female bestie showed up holding a torn bridesmaid dress and accused me of assaulting her in front of all our guests. I had no way to defend myself, so I turned to my husband for help. Instead, he looked at me with fake disappointment and publicly labeled me a lesbian. Then, to get his hands on my family's assets, he had me committed to a psychiatric hospital, where I was tortured and humiliated. I barely managed to escape, only to die in a car accident they'd carefully planned. It wasn't until my final moments that I found out the truth—the torn bridesmaid dress wasn't evidence of my crime. It was proof of their affair in the stairwell moments before the ceremony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my dressing room, minutes before the wedding. This time, I'm going to make sure those two pay for everything.

The year I was reborn was the year the vampire war began. The first thing I did was get rid of the pup. My mate's pup. Alpha Lucas's. In my last life, he covered for his childhood friend, Sarah, when she mated a vampire. He took my pure-blood pup and swapped him with her half-breed bastard. They branded me a traitor. Tortured me to death in a silver dungeon. And my own son, brainwashed by Sarah, stood over my corpse and told me to rot in hell. When I opened my eyes again, I was three months pregnant. I didn't hesitate. I walked straight to the witch's hut and drank the poison she gave me. But as the life drained away, I uncorked another bottle: an expensive Mimic Potion. It fakes a pup's heartbeat. It gives off the scent of an expecting mother. Lucas wants a child to take the fall for Sarah's crime. Fine. I'll give him a show. This time, I have no weakness.

On the day Sebastian formally took over as the Alpha of the Silverfang Pack, he brought only two people with him. One was our son, Leo; the other was his savior, Elina. Leo had inherited his pure Alpha bloodline. He wasn't about to let his son waste that talent in a human town like this. On the other hand, Elina had once saved his life. He owed her a promise, and he had to keep it. Only when it came to me did he say, "Faye, wait for me. Once I've stabilized things in the territory, I'll come back for you." In my previous life, I clung to that promise and waited in that shabby rental year after year. In the end, I died there alone. He never returned for me. Fortunately, the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance. I swallowed my last breath on that cold bed. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Sebastian's bloodline awakened. I had returned to three years earlier, to a time when everything could still be changed. This time, I wouldn't wait. I grabbed my backpack and walked straight toward the highway without looking back. From now on, he would live his life as an Alpha, and I would live my own life. Our paths no longer needed to cross.

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.

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.