Scumbag Synonym Novels & Stories

My dormmate falls in the dorm and sends the rest of us the hospital bill. She wants us to compensate her. "I only fell because you guys left a puddle of water at the door. It's only right that you compensate me, don't you think? It's not much—you each just have to give me a thousand dollars to cover the checkup, medication, transport, the classes I missed, and the mental distress I suffered." I exchange looks with my two other dormmates. All three of us politely decline. That's when she goes berserk. She screeches threateningly, "Do you know who my father is? I'll make sure you guys can't graduate if you don't compensate me!"

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

Our bridal room was set on fire, and my husband, a firefighter, was grievously wounded while trying to save me. I sent him to be saved at the hospital where Winnie Sloan, his childhood friend worked, but the surgery ended up being a failure, and my husband passed away. After the announcement that my husband was deceased, Winnie told me that his dying wish was that he wanted a child. Hearing that, I powered through my grief and used the sperm he had previously frozen to conceive a child through IVF, raising my son to be enrolled in the most prestigious university in the area. On the day of the celebration party, my son kicked me out and invited my husband and Winnie onto the stage as his 'biological parents', and that's when I found out that my husband had faked his death. All those years ago, he and Winnie had swapped out the embryo I'd conceived in secret. The son I had painstakingly given birth to and raised turned out to have no blood relation to me whatsoever. Meanwhile, my husband had been enjoying a luxurious life overseas with Winnie while waiting for a chance to reconnect with his son. In my rage, I confronted them and demanded an explanation, but ended up dying because they pushed me down the stairs. When I came to, I was back to the day of the fire.

My once best friend posted a photo on her social media account on the tenth anniversary of my marriage. In the photo, her daughter and my son were wrapped in my husband's and her arms. The caption said, 'The perfect pair.' I commented, 'Perfect indeed.' Soon, the post was deleted. The next day, my husband rushed home and asked me, "Sophie is finally recovering. Why are you provoking her?" My son even pushed me and accused me, "It's all your fault for making Tammy cry." I took out the divorce papers and threw them in their faces. "Well, it's my fault, so I quit your perfect family of four."

On the day the true heiress and I swapped places, my childhood sweetheart, bound to me by a promise made in youth, gripped my hand before our families and declared, "I chose you, not your title." Anna Pedersen, tears brimming in her eyes, enveloped me in a trembling embrace. "Joanne, we'll always be family. I'd never take what's rightfully yours." Everyone assumed I'd turned misfortune into fortune. Though I lost my status as the Pedersen heiress, I gained a steadfast lover and a selfless sister. But three years after fate corrected itself, photos of Calvin Thomas escorting Anna to a prenatal checkup flooded the internet. When I confronted him, he exhaled a plume of smoke and said coolly, "Anna is my true betrothed. This is just setting things right. Why are you so worked up?" He seized my wrist and dragged our engraved engagement ring across the back of my hand, leaving a bloody gash. "This scar will remind you of the twenty years of life you stole. Your life and I belong to their rightful owner."

Alyssa Lambert, the only daughter of the world's wealthiest family, falls in love with Justin Fuller, a poor man whose company went bankrupt and is burdened with billions in debt. In the third year of concealing her identity to stay by his side, Justin finally pays off all his debts, starts a new company, and makes his debut on the Nova Exchange. As Alyssa watches his confident figure on stage, she thinks it's time to reveal her true identity. When she arrives outside the private room booked for the celebratory banquet, she happens to overhear the lively chatter inside. "Justin, Alyssa has faithfully stayed by your side for three years and was even willing to live in a basement with you. Now that you've paid off your debts and the company is publicly listed, isn't it time to propose to her?" "Yeah! When the company was just starting up, and you had no money to hire people, Alyssa practically split herself into three and only slept four hours a day. She even took the initiative with every difficult deal. Where else would you be able to find such a great girlfriend? You'd better marry her soon!" Alyssa's hand freezes on the doorknob, and she feels a wave of unease creep over her. She had hinted about marriage before, but each time, Justin dodged the question by saying he still couldn't provide her with a good life. Now that the company went public, would he… finally bring up the topic of marriage? "I haven't forgotten the kindness Aly has shown me these past three years. I also believed she was the one for me, but…" Justin leans back on the couch with a glowing cigarette between his fingers. Everyone's gaze is fixed on him, while outside the door, Alyssa feels her heart skip a beat. "Claudia is back."

In the fifth year of our long-distance relationship, I secretly quit my job without telling my boyfriend, Ian Gambino, and travelled more than a thousand kilometers to South Bordington. I wanted to give him a surprise: to get registered and married to him. He worked as a bodyguard for the biggest mafia Don in South Bordington. His job kept him extremely busy, and we were often out of contact. The last time we spoke, he said he had to accompany his boss to an underground auction for security. The job would last three months. Relying solely on the address that I remembered, I managed to find the place. When the guards at the entrance heard that I was looking for Ian Gambino, their expressions turned a little strange. "Don Ian is still busy. Please wait a moment," one of them said. I froze. Don Ian? Before I could process what he meant, I heard him whispering to the person next to him, "So, she's the one that the Don keeps outside? How did she end up here? If Donna Jeanine finds out about this, she's going to cause a huge scene." I was just about to explain to them that they had the wrong person when a woman in a custom-made evening gown walked in. The staff immediately fell silent and addressed her respectfully, "Donna Jeanine." She was on the phone, her voice coquettishly sweet. "Honey, I'm here. You promised you'd come with me and the baby for the medical checkup this time!" From the other end of the call came a deep male voice, filled with affection. "Darling, it'll be over soon. Go take a rest in the VIP lounge. Don't tire yourself out." I had listened to that voice for five years. It belonged to Ian Gambino.

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

I'm severely allergic to many things, so my husband buys a separate villa for me. It's supposed to be sort of a nursing home. When my future daughter-in-law learns about this, she thinks my son is cheating on her. She breaks my bones to vent her anger. When she finds out I'm her future mother-in-law, she caresses her belly and looks at me smugly. "I'm already pregnant with Shawn's child. Think about whether you want this child to make it into this world." What she doesn't know is that the Ziegler family's fortune belongs to me and that Shawn Ziegler is only my adoptive son.

My husband's ex-girlfriend left behind a cat that could nurse my daughter like a woman. I turned on my camera and livestreamed this horrifying scene. The stream instantly went viral, and people approached me offering high prices for the cat. When I agreed to sell it, my husband went crazy, clutching the cat and screaming that it could not be sold. Even my sister-in-law, who had always doted on me, furiously yelled at me for being brainless. In my previous life, I accidentally discovered the cat in our house nursing my daughter. I was terrified when I saw my daughter's satisfied expression! What made me feel even more horrified was that the cat's chest area had no fur at all. It was smooth and delicate, like a nursing woman's. Moreover, this cat usually either bared its teeth at me or scratched me with its claws. Every night, it slept in my husband's arms. Thinking of all this made my skin crawl, and I immediately decided to throw the cat out. Unexpectedly, my usually gentle and refined husband became incredibly frenzied. "I raised this cat with my own hands. It's no different from my child! If you dare throw away my cat, then we're getting divorced!" My sister-in-law also urged me to keep the cat. She even gave me sleeping pills, claiming I had been under too much stress lately. That night, my daughter died in my arms, and I also died in bed from excessive grief. Only after my death did I learn that the cat was my husband's ex, and my daughter was the medium for her life exchange. Their true purpose was to steal my body. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I was just discharged from the hospital.