Cruel Intentions Journal Novels & Stories

The sharp click of her 5-inch heels echoed through the lobby. She stopped in the center of the hall, her expression unreadable as she looked at the still little figure on the floor. "Still putting on a show? Is this what Howard taught you—how to fake sympathy? You really think that if you act pitiful enough, I'll soften up? Keep dreaming." Each word cut through me like a blade, stabbing my soul again and again. I wanted to scream—how could she? How could she believe such cruelty of her own child? My boy was gentle, obedient, innocent… Tears spilled onto his face.

The air crackled with unspoken tension as I stormed toward Cameron, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from my chest. My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. He had no right. Noah had been nothing but kind to me, a rare source of steady comfort in the chaos of my life. And Cameron—vindictive, cruel Cameron—had deliberately targeted him just to remind me of my place.

Instead all I find are shopping lists, Museum opening hours, notes of wine recommendations. A reminder to call someone named Emil. I blink. Then blink again. “Seriously?” I flip another page as I see more and more ordinary notes.Train schedules, weather observations, restaurant names. I frown in confusion. Had I stolen the wrong journal? No! Impossible. Everything matched the intelligence I’d gathered so I keep reading skimming through page by page and all I fine as I read through his journals is nothing. Absolutely Nothing. Just the everyday thoughts of a man living his life, Frustration begins creeping beneath my skin. Eleven years People died for this, heck Someone murdered my father and

"Because you're still a prisoner of your past. You need to free yourself in your own cage— in your own chain, Attorney." "You know nothing about me." My hands balled into fist as I am staring on my own shoes. "I may not know you or the reason why you're treating me like that. But I want you to know that it much better to treat people good than throwing hate to them." The elevator opened and he left me dumbfounded with his words. —Azureriel

Elena They always say your past can’t hurt you if you’ve moved on. They lie. Because sometimes, it doesn’t matter how far you run— The past grows legs. And Daniel Hart had just found him again. The Journal For three days, I didn’t sleep. I read every page of that journal. It was unfiltered. Unhinged. He’d documented his unraveling with poetic precision, like a man convinced his suffering made him holy. Like he was the victim.

I cannot help but to feel everything but nothing tops up the betrayal that I felt when Alpha King told me to not come back. Someday, I’ll take my revenge on him but right now, I need to focus on my goal. I know my mistake now. I shouldn’t hand that journal to anyone and tonight as I get hold of it, I’ll burn it down enough for anyone to not know what’s encrypted on it. Alpha Vladimir was fool enough to open and not understand what it all means but it took my whole life to understand what does the journal conveys. The journal is the most crucial piece that has ever been made. It belongs to me. And me only.

Giovanni Dela Vin, the man that I feared would ruin my plan is here, infront of me, crying and looking at me with those sorrowful eyes of his. Don't get swayed, Gabriella. I whispered to myself and pinch my skin to stop myself. Giovanni just stood there and looked at me. It was the longest minute of my life but I needed to do this. My anger—all the pent up anger I had wasn’t for him. Giovanni was just a pawn I needed to start my plan and that is to eliminate his father. I promised to myself…I promised to myself that if I needed to eliminate him to be successful on my plan then I will do it—I will fucking do it without having any regrets yet, just one look and I know I can’t.

Not only did the book contain a sketch of Nathan, but it also contained some of Crystal’s most intimate thoughts. If Nathan read them, there was no telling what he would do. Crystal knew that it had been foolish to write all of her intimate thoughts down, but journaling had always helped her think. It had been a close call, though, and as much as she hated the thought of it, she knew that it would be best if she destroyed the book. She brought it outside and threw it in the fire pit. She stood over it for a long time, but she could not bear the thought of destroying it.

“She’s settling in better than she thinks. Keeps everyone at arm’s length, like she’s waiting for the world to prove her right about it being cruel. I see the way she watches the exits, the way she braces for disappointment before it even comes. I wish she knew she doesn’t have to do that here. Not with me.” My breath caught. This wasn’t just a journal. It was a window into a side of Jarek he never allowed anyone to see. I swallowed hard, my eyes scanning the next line before guilt began to claw its way up my spine. This was wrong. Intimate. Not meant for me. I started to close the journal. But my gaze snagged on the pages further back, slightly more worn, as if they had been revisited many

I feel my hands sweating with nervousness. I can hear the cars stopping in front of the house. Slowly I walk to the wall-size windows, and I peak out. I am curious to see my future dear husband. One thing is for sure. He should sleep with one eye open because I might kill him in his sleep and become a black widow. I have no problem with that. I close my eyes, shaking my head. I think my books have a bad influence on me. This would be a good plot. I make a mental note to write that story. A mafia story. Who knows. It might even be a best-selling story.