scumbag

In her past life Anastacia(Anna) William suffered from the hand of her step mother and sister and face betrayal form those she thought as loved onesShe is framed by the sister and a scumbag boyfriend sent to prison for a crime she didn’t commit. After being release, things change as she found out that her mother had died and her supposed to be boyfriend was marrying her stepsister….Opening her eyes, she found herself in a rather familiar scene, where her nightmare began… what will she suffer the same fate...? Was this her second chance to correct everything?“Mr. wolf please be gentle…”“Have not started yet and you are already tired...?”

Because my father's childhood sweetheart's daughter was accidentally burned, my father was angry and locked me in the fire house where werewolf criminals were punished. The Beta of the pack, my father, looked at me with disgust written all over his face: "I don't have such a cruel daughter. You'll stay here and reflect on what you've done." I begged loudly for mercy, admitted my mistake, pleading for him to let me out. All I got in return was his merciless command. "Unless she's dead, no one is to release her." The fire house stood isolated at the edge of the territory. No matter how much I screamed for help, no one could hear me. He assigned the housekeeper to set the room to spray fire every 2 hours. The burns were excruciating, my werewolf healing barely keeping me alive between sessions. Ten days later, he finally remembered he had a daughter and decided to let me out. But what he didn't know was that I had already died in that fire house, never to wake again.

On the day I died, my boyfriend was with another woman. He was a man I had rescued from the clutches of rich women. My condition was for him to be my boyfriend for three years, and he agreed. I showered him with money, resources, and connections, single-handedly making him famous. Yet, while he told me we could not date publicly, he casually engaged in fake romance rumors with others for publicity. One of his rumored girlfriends even came to me with a voice message. "If it weren’t for using her as a stepping stone, who would bother with someone so dull and boring?" But after I died, why did he go mad?

Calvin and I had been married for seven years. While packing up some clothes, I found a cheap lighter in the pocket of his jacket. Everything he wore, from the inside out, had been carefully chosen by me to highlight his refined taste and status. However, in that girl’s Twitter photos, he looked like a college boy, dressed in cheap clothes and wearing a digital watch that cost only a few dollars while kissing her. Using a throwaway account, I casually liked the post and commented, "A perfect match." Then, I turned to Calvin and said, "How did I never realize you had such a thing for bargains?"

My husband took our six-year-old son to meet his first love, using him as a cover. At some point, he sent our son to buy burn cream. My sweet boy then encountered a lunatic who stabbed him to death. The pain in my heart was unbearable. When I saw the burn cream still in my son's hand, I broke down in tears. Yet, my husband called to berate me, "Look at the son you've raised, Shayla Joy! He burned Claire and didn't even apologize. Get him back here right now!"

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.

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

There's an earthquake. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, abandons me to save Wendy Smith, his true love. I don't stop him. I let him go. Why? Because when he was faced with the same choice in my past life, he saved me because I was eight months pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy remained trapped under the rubble. She ultimately died due to a lack of oxygen after the delayed rescue. Later, on the day I went into labor, my husband brought me to Wendy's grave. He watched me coldly as I collapsed on the ground from the searing pain. He ignored my pleas. "Does it hurt, Yelena? Wendy's pain was a thousand times worse when she was trapped under the rubble!" I stared at him in disbelief as he descended into insanity. "You were safe that night—you were in the safe triangle zone! Wendy would never have missed the best time for rescue if not for you using your pregnancy to threaten me! I want you to experience all the pain she went through!" He forced me down on my knees and bumped my head on the ground before Wendy's grave. He ignored the blood that flowed down my legs. Ultimately, I died after major blood loss from a difficult labor. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the earthquake happened. This time, neither I nor my child will wait for him.

Jenna Radcliff made the mistake of loving a scumbag for twenty years and ended up miserable and with a broken family. With her life utterly ruined, Quinn Forester, who had been similarly schemed against that night, appeared with an offer: Marry him, and revenge would be a piece of cake. Without thinking much of it, Jenna decided to join forces with him, only to discover she had landed in the sights of an even more troublesome personage. Once she had gotten her revenge, would it not be time for a divorce? Little did she know that in Mr. Forester’s dictionary, there was no such thing as divorce— only widowhood!

My husband finally thinks about me three years after my death. The reason? His childhood sweetheart's leukemia has relapsed, and she needs another bone marrow transplant. He comes to my place, wanting to make me sign a donor agreement. However, he finds that the place has long been vacated. He asks a neighbor about it. "Are you talking about Kristen? She's long dead! I heard it was because someone dragged her away for a bone marrow donation when she was already sick. She died a few days after returning home." My husband refuses to believe that. He thinks my neighbor and I have conspired to lie to him. He says impatiently, "If you see her, tell her I won't pay the medical bills for that child she's been raising if she doesn't come to see me in three days." My neighbor shakes her head when she sees how stubborn my husband is. She mutters, "The poor child has already starved to death, though…"