Scumbag

In my previous cycle, when I graduated from university, my cousin Laura gave me a gramophone. But after I received the gramophone, accidents kept befalling my family. In the end, even my boyfriend betrayed me to be with her. It was only then that I learned that all of this was my cousin’s scheme. After I got to the current cycle, I pretended to accept my cousin’s present but never used the gramophone. It led to the curse delivering such a vicious backlash to my cousin and her entire family that they died.

Two months into my cold war with Sean, the lover he’d been keeping finally danced her way right up to me, the real deal. Everyone expected me to react the same way I always had before, kicking up a huge scene to stake my claim. Instead, I looked at the intimate photos of Sean and her in the group chat, smiled, and sent them my blessing. [Looking good. Wishing you two a long and happy life.] The chat went dead silent. Sean must’ve sobered up from his little paradise because in the middle of the night, he drove home and pounded on my door. He was furious. “Do you think this is funny?” However, I only met his gaze calmly. “Honestly, after all these years, none of it is.”

She gave him her youth, her loyalty, her love, and in return, he gave her betrayal. For eight years, Nora Song believed in her marriage to Chance Hart, until his first love, Jenny Young, returned from abroad. He brought Jenny home on their wedding anniversary, and handed Nora the divorce papers. He asked her to step aside, just so he could fulfill Jenny's dying wishes. He unreasonably wanted her to be understanding, so she calmly packed up to leave. However, walking away was not an option. Bound by the crushing debts of her parents, Nora was forced to remain in the Hart household as nothing more than a servant. She was a proud world-class pianist, but she had to endure the humiliation of being mocked and belittled in her own home. That was until she discovered something that could change everything, eighty percent of the Hart family's shares, was signed over to her by the man who once saved her life. She would not leave empty-handed. She thought to herself, 'If Chance thinks I'm still the same woman who loves him unconditionally, he's about to learn just how cold a broken heart can be.'

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.

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."

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'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."

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.”

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.