Beautiful Villain Novels & Stories

With a lot of emotions, I thought of how badly I ached to be with Valen. Villainess Snow approached me with the same dagger, stooping before me. She placed the cold flat titanium metal on my cheek. "You can't fucking die or my plans go to waste." "You….. wicked….. bitch!" I shouted at her, disgusted by her presence and the fact that she had the upper hand. This wasn't right. How could I fall like a damsel to these nimrods? Staggering with ragged breaths, Farrah got to her feet and slowly approached us like a predator.

A villain with a glass of apple juice in his hands—instead of a throat-grating shot of scotch, or a bowl of fresh human blood. A villain, especially one with a hefty goal should have black as his ensemble. Not multicolored boxer shorts and flip flops. He was supposed to be in his chambers, peering at the mind maps he'd drafted. Not basking in the mild Tuscan sun. A villain that likened himself to the devil should have his lips stretched in a grim line as he went through his loan over and over and over again. He definitely shouldn't be grinding lips with a scantily clad lady.

I think it's not only him, so many students were glad about the fact that Nick got a punch on his face. Flipping out of their rubbish talk, I tried to glide my mind on something else, something important. And all I could think about... was her. The Ruthless, or the nerd. Whatever they call! Strange, right? Even I wonder why do I bother to think about her! She is arrogant, harsh and never looks back. I should definitely hate her for being so mean to me, but I just can't. And the reason behind doesn't feel so usual to me. "Dude, you are awesome. If the ruthless didn't have her boyfriend, she must have fallen for you hard already." Dihan praised.

Her smile never quite reached her eyes; instead, they gleamed with a sharp, cruel delight, like a predator savoring the chase. The elegance of her face only made the wickedness more unsettling, every soft feature laced with a quiet promise of malice. She was beautiful, yes but in the way a poisonous flower is, inviting you closer even as it prepares to destroy you. She was the real villain. It wasn't Xander or Isabel or bluey in this case. Bianca was the type of person that destroys without letting you know. You have no say in what she does.

“Liam is a bully. I don’t like bullies.” “Mhm,” he rose to his feet and moved to stand near the wall of greenery. “You are a hero.” “Me?” I was astonished. “Oh, no. That’s Tarragon. She’s the hero. I’m just… me.” “No,” he turned back and offered me his hand. His palm was warm and calloused against mine and his arm strong as he lifted me to my feet. He smiled down at me and reached out to stroke a lock of my hair that had fallen free of its braid back behind my ear. “You are a hero. Every villain needs a hero, and you’re mine, Daethie. I think it’s safe for us to get out of here. What do you think?”

The dim lighting cast shadows across his sharp features, enhancing the undeniable beauty that had always marked him. Valen was a masterpiece of vampire allure. His face, perfectly sculpted, held a quiet but overwhelming intensity. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, and lips that, even in their neutral state, seemed to hold the promise of something dangerous. His raven-black hair fell in soft, controlled waves to his shoulders, framing his face in a way that made it impossible to ignore his piercing crimson eyes. Those eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, held centuries of knowledge, pain, and fury—yet beneath the coldness, there was something infinitely more dangerous: control. Complete a

Except… One hand and two tiny plucks would quickly render such a beautiful creature helpless. Helpless against predators and the elements. Powerless against being crushed under the sole of a heavy boot. A boot that would undoubtedly belong to David. After all, such elegant creatures needed to be reminded exactly how fragile they were. "Erhm, Don. We do need you to sign off on this." An uncertain cough broke the mafia boss from dark thoughts. His eyes narrowed as his gaze lingered on the butterfly for a moment longer. The Mafia boss returned his attention to the desk and the document atop it.

Alessandro’s dealth. Amara’s suffering. And I would walk away untouched. Because the best villains never dirty their hands. They just make sure everyone else does.

From his possession to his lust-driven touch. He is an Alpha male. He's a breathing, walking, and talking predator, all decked out in an expensive Armani suit, with sin written all over his face. I am not a sinner, but I quickly find myself wanting to become one, and it scares the shit out of me. Don Alessandro Valentino is the dark, the danger, the connection to a life I want no part of. He is everything I shouldn’t want and the lure I simply can’t resist…

Now she wanted that guy even if he wasn't a unique thing but he had done many mistakes and so now she wanted to see his happy life crumbling down. The other guy wasn't bad too or that was what he thought but he wanted that particular male to cry and feel the pain that he had felt in his childhood. He couldn't forget the promise that he did and he would do anything to get that done. The most dangerous villain was the one who knew his opponent's weaknesses and was always focused on getting to his opponent's weaknesses. Sadly, they both knew the weakness of their enemy. They weren't two small enemies but rather choose to be one big evildoer.