Male Villain

My sister's best friend borrowed 20 thousand from me, saying it was for her mother's medical bills. As a cop, I lent it to her. I figured if I could help, I should. When it was time to pay me back, she didn't return a cent. Instead, she showed up at my precinct holding a baby and accused me of indecent assaults. After a paternity test, the baby turned out to be mine. She went on livestreams, crying about how I broke the law despite being a police officer. She used the scandal to make herself famous. The force treated me like a disgrace and fired me. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. I went from a model officer to a criminal overnight. My parents were cyberbullied; with nowhere left to turn, they both drowned themselves. My wife was also beaten in the street. She suffered a miscarriage from the attack and died from massive blood loss. As for my sister, guilt drove her insane; she was hospitalized before vanishing from the public eye. After my family fell apart, I hanged myself one night. Then I opened my eyes again. I'd been reborn. Facing my sister's evil friend, I vowed to fight back.

A car accident left me with severe brain injuries. I was left hanging by a thread. My wife, a renowned medical genius, personally operated on me for 18 consecutive hours, pulling me back from death's grasp. Yet, the first words I said to her after waking up were, "Grace, I want a divorce." Her eyes were filled with tears. "Derek, I just saved your life, and now, you want to leave me? Is it because I've been too busy at the hospital? Because I haven't spent enough time with you?" I frowned. "It's exactly because you saved me that I want this divorce. I won't let you sacrifice your reputation for me." The family elders tried to reason with me. "Grace is such a wonderful wife. She takes care of everything and loves you deeply. Why insist on a divorce? Why throw away such happiness?" No matter who approached me, I dismissed them with the same response. "If you think she's so perfect, then she'll be available once we're divorced." The elders were furious. "Fine! Get your divorce! But don't come crying to us when you regret it!" I whispered under my breath, "The only thing I regret is not divorcing her sooner."

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

After being abroad for half a year, I went back home to see my fiancee. However, I was stopped at a parking lot by a random man yelling at me. I tried to shrug him off, but he arrogantly retorted, “Don’t you know who I am? Vanessa Whitecastle is my wife. If you’re smart, you’ll do what I say.” I stood in place and looked at him. Then, I made a phone call, “Are you seeing another man, Vanessa?”

My husband, Zane Wade, was drugged at a cocktail party and ended up sleeping with a female college student who looked almost exactly like me. I gave him three chances. The first time, Zane sent the young woman abroad overnight. Then, he knelt outside our home for three days and three nights. The second time, I ran into him and the college student at the hospital. He was accompanying her for a prenatal check-up. At the time, Zane hugged me tightly and refused to let me go. His voice trembled as he said, "I'm sorry, Raina. She's pregnant, and my mother threatened to commit suicide. I have no choice but to keep the child. "I swear, once she gives birth, I'll send her away immediately. The child will go to the old family estate. Please, don't leave me…" But just three days later, because of that same woman, Zane fought me at an auction over my mother's heirlooms. When he saw me raising the bid higher and higher, he immediately went nuclear. This was the third and final chance I gave him. I rushed over to confront him, but Zane wasn't worried. He just frowned slightly and calmly said, "Raina, you know very well that Moira is about to give birth. Why do you insist on fighting a pregnant woman? You only need to endure it for another three months. Then, we can go back to how things were." Upon hearing his words, I almost cried at how ridiculous they sounded. I finally decided to get a divorce, but Zane actually brought Moira Green home openly and without shame.

Fresh from a business trip, my husband swept me into his arms and pulled me toward the bathroom for a passionate shared bath. As our lips met in a dizzying kiss, I noticed something odd out of the corner of my eye: the toilet lid was down. Seven years ago, after reading an online article claiming that men urinating while standing could splash bacteria onto the seat, he insisted we always keep the lid up for hygiene's sake. In all our years of marriage, it had never been lowered until now. A chill ran through me. The bathroom was pristine, not a stray hair in sight. But then I noticed the shower's water temperature was set five degrees higher than the 98.6°F he always preferred. Men preferred cooler water, and women warmer. In an instant, I realized that Nick Doyle had betrayed me.

My wife has an emotional breakdown after being violated. She insists I'm the one who orchestrated it, but both our parents know her true love is the actual culprit. Still, they don't object to her insane retaliation. They even have me locked up in a prison abroad. As I'm tormented, she sells my company to help her true love get away scot-free. Ultimately, he's set free, but I die without even having a final resting place. When a judge informs her to collect my body, she sneers and says, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Does he think he can get away with a fake corpse? I won't even bat an eye if his body is flushed down the drain! He's nothing but a disgusting criminal!" Later, she realizes that I've truly died. She's delighted, but her laughter soon turns to tears as she holds my corpse.

On the third day after my death, my body was sent to the police station in different packages. Jonathan Walsh, my husband, and Frank Stone, my junior at work, saw my corpse and frowned. “If only Elena were here, she would have been able to find some clues.” Frank sighed as he stared at my horribly mangled remains. “Don’t mention her. She’s not even worthy of being a forensic scientist!” I stared at my husband with a conflicted look. He analyzed each part of my body and deduced the manner of my death with familiar ease. “The murderer is a monster…” Frank’s face turned pale, and he sighed again. Jonathan calmly used all that I had taught him and perfectly pieced out the entire process of my death based on the clues from my dismembered body. I could not help but feel proud. Unfortunately, he was still a little off the mark. He did not manage to figure out that this body belonged to me, his wife.

After my girlfriend's father hit someone with a car, he took his own life because he didn't want to get arrested. But in doing so, he left behind a huge debt he had racked up. In order to help my girlfriend pay off the compensation, I work around the clock as a food deliveryman. Every day, I sleep less than four hours just to squeeze in more work. But when I finish delivering a new order, I notice a man clad in a bathrobe standing in front of me at a hotel suite's doorway. He's completely covered in hickeys. A young woman dressed in a sexy nightgown hugs him from behind. "I'm absolutely famished right now because of how long you've been tormenting me in bed earlier, darling! Hurry up and grab the takeout!" I can only stare at the woman, completely shell-shocked. That's when the bag of takeout slips off my fingers and crashes onto the floor. The woman takes a step backward. Her brows drawn into a frown, she exclaims, "How are my boyfriend and I supposed to enjoy the food now that it's all dirty?" After that, she kicks the takeout at me right away, spilling grease all over my clothes. I remain rooted to the spot, still stunned. This woman… is Irene Swensen, my girlfriend who's about to get engaged to me.