My Vengeful Husbands Demand A Remarriage

Chapter 7

Word Count: 566 | Released on: Today at 18:51

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if Shane had just made a

id of any emotion. "You have every right to feel t

sarray. They were armed for a fight against a madwoman, bu

is presence filling the room, trying to intimidate her. "Wh

s gaze and reached out, slapping the metal side of t

lear and firm. "I called you here

roposition that shifted the focus from the bitter hat

heir partners like slaves has no right to talk about de

eagle-kin pride, to steal for you in the black markets. You sent the Gonzales twins to the insectoid

, clutching Elias, the ter

With each accusation, a corresponding memory flared i

, the only sound in the room w

excuses. She didn't deny a thing. She just

ain. They were prepared for her to lie, to scream,

the three of them. "I was out of my mind," s

em, she brought up the interstellar communication int

r, their suspicion warrin

iable authority. She identified herself and, citing her legal rights as his bonde

alty fee for breaking his contract. She authorized the paymen

ned back to face them. Their f

" she announced. "I'll g

her face for any sign of deception. "Why are you doi

ectly. Instead, she dropped the most

are gettin

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My Vengeful Husbands Demand A Remarriage

Zhao Da Fantasy

“I survived ten years in the apocalypse, only to transmigrate into the body of the most despised woman in the Galactic Empire. When I opened my eyes, I was holding a bloody whip, straddling a beastman husband the original owner had just tortured. The mechanical system in my head immediately issued a death sentence. "In two months, your trial marriage ends. Your six abused husbands will be legally permitted to tear you apart." The original host was an absolute monster. She beat them, starved them, stole their meager military stipends for luxury goods, and even sent two of them to a deadly alien warzone just to impress her high-society friends. Now, I was left with her massive debts, a blocked power core, and the terrifying reality of six powerful, vengeful beastmen plotting my murder in the basement. I inherited all her sickening sins, and the crushing weight of their justifiable hatred felt like a suffocating nightmare. How was I supposed to survive when the people I lived with were just waiting for the legal countdown to snap my neck? But an apocalypse survivor doesn't just roll over and die. I pawned the original's useless designer bags, bought the highest-grade nutrient solutions, and called my would-be murderers into the living room. "I know you hate me, and you have every right to," I told them calmly. "We are getting a divorce."”