Scumbag

My ex-boyfriend’s first love insisted on dragging me onto the drop tower ride, which caused me to have severe bleeding from the trauma. When it happened, he used her fear of blood as an excuse to cover her eyes and hurry away, abandoning me in a pool of blood. In that critical moment, Steven Landers, the amusement park designer, rushed me to the hospital just in time. After losing the baby, I was completely devastated. Then to my surprise, he got down on one knee at the amusement park and proposed, promising me happiness for the rest of my life. After we got married, I became pregnant again. But I accidentally stumbled across his chat with a ride maintenance worker. "Mr. Landers, your wife already lost a child because of Miss Smith. You mentioned she has difficulty getting pregnant, so why are you pulling the same trick to get her on the drop tower again?" Steven casually touched his wedding ring and replied, "She's the reason Anne can never be a mother, so I absolutely won't let Myla give birth to a child that would upset her." "But that's your child too! How can you do this?" "So what? This is what she owes Anne. The drop tower is the perfect way to make it look like an accident. Tomorrow is Myla's birthday, and I'll personally take her on the ride. If she tries to run, I need all of you to help catch her!" So that was his plan all along—to use the drop tower to cause another "accident" and make me lose my baby!

My relationship with my husband started when we were students. Even then, many people were envious of us. However, everything is ruined when I'm sullied after a drunken night. My reputation goes down the drain, as does my chastity. I've been caught red-handed—the man beside me in bed isn't my husband. I later find out that my husband is the one who set me up to take the fall. It's all because he wanted to save his true love—a woman he could never have.

Jenny posted a picture of me and her brother, who had an intellectual disability. The caption? "Finally, a happy ending!" The comments were all the same: "Is this your sister-in-law? She’s gorgeous!" I simply replied with a question mark, but Jenny ignored me and responded to someone else instead. "She's kinda my sister-in-law, yes!" It didn't take long for Steven to call me, his tone full of anger. "It was just a little edit, do you really have to blow things out of proportion?" Half an hour later, Jenny posted another photo of her sitting in Steven's luxury car, and even tagged me in it. "We may not be related by blood, but this big brother of mine has always been my rock!" Steven commented. "I'll always be here." I knew he was trying to get a rise on me on purpose to appease Jenny, but I didn't grace them with a reply this time. All I did was like the post and file for divorce.

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

On the seventh year after we moved overseas, my 13-year-old daughter, Anna Jackman, is hailed as the internationally renowned piano prodigy. No matter how difficult the song is, Anna is capable of weaving beautiful melodies with it. But there's only one song that Anna refuses to play. It's a seemingly ordinary lullaby. She's worried that she might end up forgiving that despicable man again once she plays it on the piano. So, when said man, Micah Jackman, turns up on our doorstep with a piano that's handcrafted by a master craftsman and asks Anna to play him the lullaby, she just shakes her head calmly in return. "I don't know how to play that song, sir." Micah's eyes redden immediately. He grabs Anna's hand and navigates it to the piano keys. "That's impossible! Aren't you a piano prodigy, Anna? Haven't you always wanted to have a piano of your own? I've already bought you your own piano this time! From now on, if you have any wishes, you should tell me, and I'll grant them for you." Anna draws back her right hand coldly. "It's fine, sir. I can earn my own money to buy my own piano. You should take the piano back to your daughter." Micah feels as though his heart has plunged into the abyss. He immediately pulls Anna into his arms. "What are you talking about, Anna? You're my only daughter!" But Anna looks a little puzzled. "Didn't you say that Ms. Sinclair's daughter is the only one worthy of becoming your child? Didn't you give the piano you promised for me to Ms. Sinclair's daughter?" Having reached that point, Anna just smiles nonchalantly at Micah. "It's fine, sir. Since you like Ms. Sinclair, you can just raise her daughter. I'm already content enough with Mom by my side."

My husband makes me quit my job to care for his deceased friend's wife after she's given birth. Yet, she deliberately breastfeeds to his face. He can't take his eyes off her, yet he has the nerve to call me petty. He even says I'm asking for trouble. Later, I get a divorce and sell the house. I return to my hometown and make it big there. That's when he begs me to take him back.

During a family gathering, my mother produces a few photos of different men. She asks me which one I want to get into an arranged marriage with. I don't choose Bradley Garvin again in this lifetime. Instead, I pull out a photo of my own and give it to my mother. It's of Terrence Garvin, the Garvin family's true leader. My mother is surprised. I've pursued Bradley for many years, after all. What she doesn't know is that I married him in my past life. However, he rarely came home. I always thought it was because he was too busy. Whenever anyone asked me about it, I took all the blame. I only discovered the truth on our 20th wedding anniversary after accidentally breaking a box he kept locked in his closet. It turned out my sister was the one he'd always loved. He never returned home because he didn't want to see me. Unexpectedly, Bradley loses his mind when I'm about to put a diamond ring on Terrence's finger on our wedding day.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

On my birthday, my boyfriend gave me a pearl bracelet and claimed it would bring wealth. I did not believe it. However, just a few days later, I actually won 15 million dollars. I happily went to claim my prize, but the very next day, my bank balance vanished overnight. Not only that, I was left paralyzed from the waist down, and my appearance aged by thirty years! I cried and went to my boyfriend for help, only to find out that he, once poor, was then driving a sports car. His paralyzed sister miraculously stood up overnight, while even his sixty-year-old mother transformed into a young woman, as if reborn. I confronted him, asking if the pearl bracelet was cursed. He shoved me to the ground, saying, "What kind of crazy person are you? I think you've watched too much TV and lost your mind!" After dying in anger, I was reborn on my birthday. My boyfriend eyed me with ill intent, holding a pearl bracelet in his hand, preparing to put it on me...

Everyone believed Ethan Cross loved Isabella Winters to his core, but nobody knew he'd already found an Isabella look-alike to keep him company through the lonely nights. Even when Isabella recovered, he continued his affair. Little did he know that Isabella's recovery was temporary—within two months, she would lose every memory she'd ever made. After that, she would forget Ethan completely, and her love for him would be erased forever.