Scumbag Meaning

I had been secretly married to my CEO husband for six years, but he still would not let our son call him “Dad.” After he missed our son’s birthday again because of his secretary, I took out the divorce agreement and left with our son for good. The usually calm man lost control and stormed into the office to demand where we were. This time, neither my son nor I would come back.

On the day I was supposed to get engaged to my childhood sweetheart, Noah Pratt, I escaped. As I flew out of the country, I deleted all forms of contact with him. Six years later, I had to return to oversee the moving of my parents’ graves. At the entrance to the cemetery, I bumped right into Noah. He gripped my wrist while gazing at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Why did you run away?” he asked. He had grown very thin. Heavy bags were under his eyes. It was as if haunting dreams had plagued his nights. “Because I didn’t want to marry someone I didn’t love,” I replied. He swayed on his feet as if the rug had been swept from under him. “Is there anything else?” I asked. But he remained silent. I waited patiently before walking past him. I had not lied. Indeed, I had burned out that love for him in the first three years I spent overseas.

A story of hate to love. Amira and Amir had no choice but to put their hate aside and enjoy their explosive attraction Amira meaning It means "princess" or "high born girl," (derived from Arabic) and a Hebrew female given name, meaning 'treetop' or 'saying'.

I've been dating the country's most eligible bachelor for two years. My base salary is $2 million, with bonuses based on performance. Holding hands costs $10,000, putting an arm around his waist is $20,000, and a kiss on the lips is a bit pricier at $50,000. As for certain bedroom activities, well, those come with a whole different price tag. Brad is fair-skinned and handsome, appearing only once a month – he's practically a walking Tiffany's diamond. Life is so sweet, it's easy to get complacent if you're not careful. One night, a DM popped up on Instagram from a stranger. "If you trust me, check your boyfriend's phone." "?" "I'm his girlfriend." "Am I the third party or are you the third party?" "You're third, I'm fourth." "Let's meet and talk details."

Carl Larson's intern is about to die, and her only wish is for him to sleep with her once. I disagree, and he says I'm petty. "It's just a one-time thing. She's about to die! Why do you have to assume I'm up to something dirty?" Is that so? I've seen them together more than once, though. I later agree, and he's relieved… until he sees me lying on his operation table for an abortion. He widens his eyes in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" I smile. I want him to murder his child. I want him to regret this for life.

Seven days before our wedding, Danny Wagner—my childhood sweetheart—got down on one knee for Mia Kant, the broke girl he'd been sponsoring. Right in front of me and his buddies. I didn't cry. Didn't lose it. Just slapped a smile on my face and said, "Wishing you two a lifetime of happiness." His buddies? Oh, they had the nerve to tell me to be generous and let Danny help Mia finish her "wish list." Danny, unsatisfied and ticked off, said I was overreacting and demanded an apology. Dismissive, he sneered, "I said I'd marry you after Mia's wish list was done. Stop being so unreasonable." I knew this was the last item on her list. I opened my notes app, scrolled to my wish list, and deleted all thirty-three bullet points. Done. Then I made a call. "I'm willing to marry you."

I married Kael Throne—the infamous king of New York’s mafia—not for his power, not for his fortune, but because I loved him. He was unlike any man I’d ever known. A man who could have a thousand women at his feet, yet dismissed them all with a single glance. I believed his faithful love until the day I learned the existence of a college girl. He’d “respected” me enough to keep her hidden… until I forced the truth into the light. Kael didn’t rage. He didn’t deny it. He only looked at me with that calm, dangerous gaze and said, “Then we divorce.” I refused. He offered me his money, his casino, his everything. Still I said no. Because I loved him. That’s when his love turned black. He had me kidnapped. My mother, too. All to force my signature on those papers. “You found out,” he said, almost bored. “And there’s no more fun in hiding. Leave now, Vivienne. Give me—and Nyssa—our happy ending.” I watched as the man he’d sent slit my mother’s throat. My answer came too late. Kael Throne was a monster. I collapsed, my head cracking against the floor. And when I opened my eyes… I was back on the day I first learned Nyssa existed. This time, I didn’t confront him. I played the perfect wife, smiling sweetly while I waited for the perfect moment to vanish from his life forever. I just never imagined that when I finally disappeared… Kael would lose his mind.

The day of my wedding photoshoot, my family's adoptive daughter tugs my veil off and asks loudly, "Aren't you our family's adoptive daughter? What are you doing here? Today's the day Ian and I are supposed to have our wedding photoshoot. Aren't you going to disgrace Ford Group by being here?" In the past, I would've run away in tears. Unfortunately for her, I'd been reborn. I slapped Aspen Miller and retorted, "What right do you have to speak to me? Who do you think you are, having a wedding photoshoot with Adrian? Are you worthy of being associated with Ford Group?"

The fifth time we went to the courthouse, James Ceasar and I still weren’t officially married. We had picked a good day for it, but right before it was our turn, he got a call and rushed off in a hurry. With my eyes turning red, I pointed at the screen showing the waiting numbers, trying to stop him. “We're next. It won't take more than ten minutes. We can get it done fast. Once we’re officially married, you can go and deal with whatever’s so urgent. It won’t take long.” James was the CEO of his company, so he had full control over his schedule. That was why I said it like that, not thinking it would be a big deal. However, he just glanced at the screen, handed me the ticket with our number on it, and looked annoyed. “I can marry you anytime,” he said. “But right now, I’ve got something I need to take care of. Don’t make a fuss.”

Gavin became Alpha right after our mating ceremony. His older brother, Damien—the former Alpha—was dead. Killed by a rival pack from the North. Gavin took his brother's mate, Sarah, and headed north. He claimed he was avenging his brother. He swore he'd expand our territory. He told me the expansion was too dangerous. He didn't want me to get hurt. So I was left behind. Left to rule a dying pack in the south, with only my healing gift to keep us from collapsing. I bled myself for healing serums, all to ensure his northern campaign didn't falter. Every time I sent word asking when our packs would merge, he'd give me an excuse. His position in the North was unstable. They'd just finished a war. It wasn't the right time. Seven years later, the pack couldn't hold on any longer. I sent Leon, my last remaining beta, to find Gavin. Leon’s message back told a different story. Gavin's new pack was already one of the three great powers in the North. And he had a pup with Sarah. A public one. Pain, sharp and swift, lanced through my chest. I marched to the pack elders and demanded they sever our mate bond. Then, I sent a message to the Healers' Guild that had been recruiting me for years: "I'm severing my bond. I'll be packless in three days. Tell the Guild I'm in."