Scumbag System

I had been married to Rick Clinton for five years, and we had tried every possible way to have a child, but nothing worked. Later, Rick’s mistress, his secretary, became pregnant. Rick proposed a divorce, but we couldn’t agree on the division of assets. The next day, I was murdered by my husband and his mistress. Reborn a week before my death, I looked at the test results in my hand that confirmed Rick’s Azoospermia and smiled.

At the class session joined by the school leaders and officials from the Department of Education, my lecture PPT was swapped for a sensational "Mistress's Charge Letter". "Charge one. Willingly being the other woman makes her an unsuitable role model for students." "Charge two. Attempting to secure a higher position through sex." "Charge three. Menacing the lawful wife with the absurd hope of advancing through pregnancy." Amidst the leaders and officials, my husband's illegitimate child accused me of disrupting her parents' marriage. In the name of "expelling the mistress to achieve justice", she coerced me, the true wife, into a humiliating bow to the mistress. I confronted my husband upon his arrival, "Care to explain? Why didn't I know that you had an illegitimate daughter?" He responded with a strike to the girl's face. "Where are you from, you unruly child? You're so ill-mannered!"

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

My husband, James Lincoln, disappeared in an accident, and my in-laws wasted no time filing to have him legally declared deceased. At the funeral, a woman, Xena Xander, suddenly showed up with a young boy, both crying hysterically. The boy, Charlie Lincoln, screamed at the top of his lungs, calling my husband “Daddy.” My ten-year-old daughter, Mia Lincoln, charged at him, shouting, “Shut up! That’s my dad!” Pretending to break it up, my in-laws instead shoved Mia to the ground. She collapsed and passed out on the spot. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself for not giving us a grandson! This family can’t die out without an heir!” Xena smirked at me with blatant provocation. Behind her, Charlie spat in my direction and sneered, “You’re just a worthless tramp nobody cares about.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I laughed. “If you want the status and the inheritance so badly, you can have them. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Two weeks later, Xena showed up at my doorstep, covered in blood, banging on the door and screaming. And then, I got a phone call that felt like a nightmare come to life. But I couldn’t have cared less. By then, I was already enjoying a peaceful vacation overseas.

On my wedding day, the first love of my boyfriend appeared and declared she wanted my place at the altar. Sobbing theatrically, she pleaded, "Claire, I’m seriously ill. You have your whole life to be with Evan. Just let me have this wedding." And my boyfriend backed her up without hesitation. "Claire, you’re already pregnant with my child, and we’ve signed the marriage papers. You’ve got everything you need. This wedding? It doesn’t matter." The guests gawked, while I stood there as the punchline of their jokes. But instead of causing a scene, I kept my composure. That same day, I booked an abortion and looked his first love straight in the eye with a smile. "Sure, take the wedding, and take him too. He’s all yours."

Ellis Stewart was on the verge of becoming a Civil Rights lawyer when a strange woman abducted her. Deemed to be the Emperor's soulmate, she was forced into a marriage she didn't want. Logan Alcott was the Emperor of a dying race, his solar system torn apart by civil unrest. The moment he saw her, he knew they were fated. Can Ellis learn to love this strange man? Will she be able to uphold her ideals in the face of a society wrought with havoc? The enemies lurking in the darkness were coming for them and the only thing she could do was hope that her people remained safe.

“You’ll take every knot, one after the other, until you’re dripping with all four of us, then we’ll flip you over and start again.” Thrown into the Howl for Love trials like meat, Veyra was meant to submit. To be collared. Claimed. Broken. She doesn’t kneel. She fights. She protects the weak. She shatters expectations and catches the attention of the four Alphas she should fear the most. The King who kills out of boredom. The Rogue who tastes like sin and violence. The Shadow who whispers how she’ll sound when she begs. And the enemy whose hands were built to punish. She’s everything they shouldn’t want. They’re everything she refuses to choose. But the trials are cruel. The heat is rising. And when the bond snaps, there’s no undoing it. She was meant to end up on her knees. Instead, she’ll take four Alphas to theirs. A dark reverse harem full of brutal games, primal lust, and one Omega who refuses to be owned but doesn’t mind being used and forcing them to bow down to her. 🔥 Enemies-to-lovers tension 🔥 Brutal mate trials & a rigged system 🔥 Betrayal, exile, and an Omega who refuses to bow 🔥 Rebirth 🔥 Changing the rules 🔥 Making them chase her

My father, the Beta of our pack, had sworn our bloodline to serve the Alpha King, Andrew Amadeus. By tradition, I was destined to be his mate. The night before our mating ceremony, I risked everything to save my stepsister, Emma Hughes, crossing into rogue territory—Wild Nest. I fought fiercely but was overpowered. At the ceremony, a cursed projection stone revealed my assault by the rogues. The pack recoiled in disgust. Andrew, seething with rage, rejected me and marked Emma instead, making her Luna Queen. To them, I was a disgrace, unworthy of an Alpha’s mark. As they called for my exile, Andrew’s younger brother, Anthony Amadeus, stepped forward. "Sophia Hughes, I have loved you in silence. By the name of the moon, I vow to be your mate for eternity." His words saved me. A year later, the healer told me I could finally carry a pup. Overjoyed, I rushed to find Anthony—only to overhear a chilling conversation. "Anthony, we helped the rogues infiltrate, lured Sophia to Wild Nest, and spread the video. She trusts you now… did we make a mistake?" He sighed. "For Emma to become Queen, Sophia had to be sacrificed. But it doesn’t matter—I’ll spend my life making it up to her." Betrayal cut deeper than any wound. My suffering had been planned. But if they thought I was broken, they had underestimated me. I would carve my own fate—with claws bared.

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.