A Villainess No More の小説・ストーリー

The coarse coral-weave robe of a province I do not recognize, the kind that has not been worn in any kingdom for at least four hundred years. She is sad. The whole of her is sad. The sadness is not new; it is settled, the way a stain is settled in old cloth. "My name is Vessa." "The third host." "You read fast for a young one. Yes." She moves toward me — not by swimming, by appearing closer the way memories appear closer — and she sits, cross-tailed, in the silt at the edge of the seventh cairn. Her hands rest in her lap. The pearl in my chest is uneasy with her in a way it was not uneasy with Morrigwen, and after a second I understand why. The pearl is afraid of Vessa specifically. Vessa su

"What's she doing here?" The group of socialites visibly stiffened when they saw me. Everyone in high society knew about my reputation. I was known for being arrogant, unhinged, and untouchable. I didn't spare them a glance. Instead, I looked down at Vivian, who was soaked from head to toe. The floating comments began racing across my vision. [The villainess is about to lose it! Vivian, run!] [It's over! Quinn saw the male lead trying to save Vivian. She's definitely going to make Vivian's life a living hell!]

A wet, snotty wall. "Oh, please. You hated the fact that I was finally happy. My life has been hell, my stepmother hates my guts, my step-sisters wouldn't even acknowledge my existence, I have this stupid scar everyone shames me for, while you have everything. Friends, guys who literally throw themselves at you, family. While I have nothing. Why couldn't you let me have this one thing?" Tears slid down her cheek without hope of stopping and all I could do was stand there and take her abuse because she's right. Even if I didn't plan for this to happen. I became the villain in her story without even realizing it.

What he shared with Noemi was nothing but platonic love. A great love story always needs a villainess to make it burn. And that villainess was me. Gianna Milano. The plot called for me to discover the emotional affair and go to war against Noemi: petty cruelty, jealous rages, one humiliation after another, all of it making Noemi shine brighter by contrast. Renato's contempt for me would grow until he handed me the divorce papers himself. Then I'd run to my father, try to use the family to tear them apart.

A chant not for her, but against her. “Villainess. Villainess. Villainess.” Seren’s stomach turned to ice. They weren’t wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She had just hijacked the heroine’s story. Kael leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, his voice pitched only for her: “Let them chant. A villainess…” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, possessive and reverent. “…is far harder to forget than a saint.” The System hummed in satisfaction.

Lady Vivanna Pursioe Rorei, Duchess of Portburgh. -OH MY GOD! I AM THE VILLAIN OF THE STORY!!-

“And you know what villains do, Victor? They rewrite the script.” He tilted his head. “Rewriting the script is one thing. Controlling the narrative is another. The media’s already on her side. She’s painting herself as the fragile heroine.” I scoffed. “Fragile? That woman is anything but fragile. She’s calculated, deliberate. Every word she utters is a weapon aimed at me.” Victor shrugged. “And people love a heroine who bleeds. You’ve given her the stage.” I stepped closer, lowering my tone. “Then I’ll take it back. She wants to play a game of exposure? I’ll show her exposure.”

A poisonous, cynical smile appeared on her lips. "Cassandra Vance? That cursed name again," she muttered, her voice low and sharp. "And now there's this newcomer who dares to take my place? No one can seize the throne I've fought for! I will not allow it to happen." She was Clarissa Bellatrix, the current film queen dominating the entertainment industry. For years, she had worked hard, manipulated, and eliminated anyone who stood in her path to the throne. She hated Cassandra Vance, not just because of Cassandra’s unmatched popularity while alive, but also because Clarissa always felt that she, despite her success, was merely a secondary shadow of that dead star. Now, with the emergence of J

If you’ll attend her show. Of course. Of course they’d figured it out. The narrative was already forming. I could see it: Billionaire CEO’s discarded wife rises from ashes to build fashion empire. The wronged woman. The phoenix. The revenge story everyone loved. And I’d be cast as the villain. The man who threw away a diamond to chase after glass. Another text. Vivian this time. **Vivian:** *Just saw something interesting. Call me.* I called. She answered immediately.

Nala kicked and struggled, trying to break free as she was dragged out and thrown into the dirt outside the mansion gates. Maria ran after Vinichi, sobbing and begging, while Camille sauntered to the gate where Nala stood. “I’ll tell you a little farewell story,” Camille grinned. “Once there was a girl who had no one but her grandma. She was always bullied, always blamed, always looked down on. But one day, she realized she didn’t want to be the loser hero anymore—she wanted to be the villain who always wins. Since then, life’s been awesome.”