Scumbag

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens." While the woman was cooking up a story about me seducing Marcus Lane, a director of Sullivan Group, others around simply looked on coldly and judged me. She slashed my limited-edition bag to pieces and smashed the expensive seal I wanted to give my dad. "You're just a gold digger wearing and buying fake luxury goods. It's just a few hundred dollars. I can still afford to pay you." However, little did she know that everything I had was real. Even if she and her director husband worked for the rest of their lives, they would never be able to afford to pay for the damages.

Celeste Lodge has been married to Terence Ford for three years. He's hated her guts the whole time. The day Winona Ford returns, he finally can't take it anymore and begins planning to fake his death so he can run away with her. "I'll fake my death in one month. I'll give up my position as heir to the Ford family and be with Winona forever." Hearing this from outside the operating room, Celeste Lodge immediately contacts a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, she calls her brother, Hayden Lodge, who lives abroad. "Hayden, I'm done with Terence. I'm ready to leave and live overseas with you."

I was head over heels for Jonas Hayes, the cold and aloof scholarship student who saw me as nothing more than a walking wallet. He took my credit card but refused to let me get close. "Get lost. The sight of you and your filthy money makes me sick." Using my wealth, he showered Clara Dove, the stunning campus bella from a humble background, with luxury gifts and even threw her a lavish birthday party at the city’s most exclusive hotel. Everyone envied him, believing he was a self-made billionaire. But I didn’t care. I stayed hopelessly in love. After graduation, I poured my entire inheritance into building a life with him, convinced I could win his heart. During our honeymoon, he watched as I drowned, his voice ice-cold as he said, "Every time I think of how you used your money to control me, I wish you’d die sooner." When I woke up again, I was back in my college classroom—the day Jonas asked me to top up his card. This time, I wasn’t the desperate fool he remembered. I slapped him across the face with the card and sneered, "Even beggars know how to kneel and ask. What are you, a weed?"

At a company party, Taylor Kennedy plays a game of mouth-to-mouth cookie biting with his female assistant as everyone watches. I blend into the crowd and laugh along. The room instantly falls silent. The assistant bursts into tears and plays the victim. Taylor lets go of her, turns to me, and coldly scolds me in front of the entire company. He berates me for not knowing how to read the room and being a buzzkill. Then, without hesitation, he wraps his arm around the assistant and kisses her deeply as I watch. If this were before, I would've stormed over in a rage and ripped them apart. Then, I would've humiliated her in front of everyone, not caring whose pride I trampled. But now, I feel nothing. Not even as I watch them kiss. Not even though today marks my ten-year anniversary with Taylor.

Seven years after registering our marriage, my husband Gaius and I finally decided to hold the romantic wedding ceremony we had missed back then. That day, I wore the wedding gown I had designed myself and walked toward him with hopeful eyes. Before I could deliver my carefully prepared vows, an incident interrupted the moment. Amid the stunned murmurs of the guests, Gaius dashed toward the woman who had fainted—again—at my wedding. His voice trembled with urgency, eyes burning red. "Call an ambulance! Now!" He didn't even look back as he left the wedding hall. When the wedding bell rang seven times, I calmly pulled off my veil. Facing the guests who had yet to disperse, I smiled and said, "As you can see, today marks the divorce ceremony between Gaius and me. Please, eat and drink to your heart's content. Don't let the trip go to waste!"

In the third year of our marriage, my husband's first love got a divorce. He gave her the forty-five thousand dollars we had saved for a house because she was left with nothing and struggling to make ends meet. I urged him to ask for the money back, but he pointed at my face and angrily shouted, "You used to be so gentle and virtuous—what happened? Why are you so selfish, so shallow now?" "Is forty-five thousand dollars really worth you making a fuss over?" "Chloe is starting over with nothing, raising a child on her own. Don't you feel any sympathy for her?" Fine. He was noble, he was merciful. I did not argue further, because the one who needed money for cancer treatment was him, not me.

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

When my husband returned home to visit his parents, I noticed that he forgot to bring back the specialties he had bought. I ran after him, only to find him getting out of a car in a suit. His childhood friend stepped forward to welcome him. They held hands and smiled as they looked into each other’s eyes. They looked like a happy, newlywed couple. Only when my husband saw me standing not too far away did he hurriedly distance himself from his childhood friend. “Her mother’s critically ill, and her mother’s only wish is to see her get married. I’m just helping her.” I simply smiled. I pushed him right back to his childhood friend’s side and started cheering with everyone else. “When’s the baby coming?! I’ll be sure to wrap a nice gift!”

On the night of our mating ceremony, my mate, Damon, marked another she-wolf right in front of me. He said that if I wanted to be his Luna, I had to accept him having us both. In my past life, I screamed at him, accusing him of defying the Moon Goddess. Pressured by the Elders, he was forced to banish Lyla. She was run down by rogues and fell from a cliff to her death. After that, Damon refused to ever mark me. He even framed me, luring me into the forbidden lands as a pretext to banish me. Then, he hunted me down and killed me himself. I remember my body being picked apart by birds, the agony of it all. But now, I just stared at Damon's cold face, and at the Omega, Lyla, cradled in his arms. Then, I calmly reached up and removed the sacred symbol of our fated bond. "I refuse." And with that, under the shocked gazes of the entire pack, I walked away, heading for the frozen lands of the North. This time, I will make every single wolf who hurt me pay.

The day Adrian Knight clinched a contract with our biggest client, I "accidentally" tipped a bottle of ink across the paperwork, voiding it on the spot. Because of that single blot, the project landed in Alex Lewis’s lap, and he won Chairman Henry Carter’s favor almost overnight, moving into the Carter mansion as their future son-in-law and watching his net worth rocket into eight figures. Adrian never blamed me. He just laughed that he’d never been executive material anyway and happily brought me home as his bride. Everyone whispered that, if not for my meddling, Adrian would already be sitting in the Carter family’s executive suite instead of scraping by in an ordinary life with me. Only I knew the truth: stopping him from signing that contract had saved his life. When Adrian learned I was pregnant, he locked me in the basement, fingers digging into my throat. "If it hadn’t been for you," he snarled, "I’d be Henry Carter’s son-in-law by now. You’re the reason I lost Rachel, the princess of the Carter family." That’s when I realized he’d been nursing this grudge for years. After he killed me, I woke up, reborn on the very day Adrian first reached for that fatal contract. This time, I’ll make sure Adrian Knight gets exactly what he wants.