Cruel Intentions Journal 소설 & 이야기

" A word is more than enough for the wise. " Alpha Lowell clenched his fists and walked away. Duncan turned to alpha Rufus. The look in his eyes was fear. He could see it. This alpha was scared . Yes. This particular one was likely going to yield Or would he choose to die too? " It is over to you, Alpha Rufus." Duncan said, walking over to him. " You are a wise ruler , I presume. Will you let your pride make you throw your people away ? Will you choose to walk the path of destruction, just like others have chosen? Give me an answer right here and now. " Duncan scowled.

He couldn't help the anger he felt, he crumpled the photo and squeezed it. "You damned, miserable Jonah Johnson! You always made fun of my sister when she gave everything for you, but I will make your life miserable, I will not rest until I have ruined you completely and made you pay for your audacity," he expressed, feeling a deep pain and how a piercing wound opened in his soul, for all that Margareth had lived, at the same time the beautiful and angelic face of the man became a cold mask of absolute evil. Don't let your wounds turn you into someone you're not. Paulo Coelho.

PROPERTY OF THE ALPHA PRINCE BY JINXWRLD CHAPTER 4: MYSTERIES Well, sir. I found out during the search, that it was a mad woman, who was busy laughing to herself, and cackling to herself too. I mean, it was very weird, you have to see this from yourself. Her gaze looked focused, in front, just staring at nothing in particular. She laughed and cackles…really laughed and cackled as if she was watching someone do something stupid. It is not normal. And also, the people, her fellow citizens, are also clearing the space for her to do whatever, she wants, as long as they don’t care whatever another person is going to see.

Killian, please save me. When the torture is over, and he leaves me naked, cold, used, and beaten on the floor, I walk slowly toward the house. I don’t have anywhere else to go, I walk shamelessly through the corridors as all eyes are on me. I close my eyes as soon as I close the door behind my back and slide down the door until I am sitting on the floor crying. ***** Present day ******

Habit took over as I moved through the space, selecting fruit from the cooling shelf and arranging it neatly on a tray before setting it on the low table between us. No one spoke, they were both checking out my suite, their gazes filled with awe. “Juno, your room is a dream!” Willow breathed out. “Thank you,” I replied, smiling softly. I strolled to the corner of my suite, where the worn-out journal lay, and took it with me. When I finally sat across from them, I showed it to them. The edges were softened with age, the cover darkened by time and handling. “This,” I said, resting my hand on the worn leather cover, “is Madam Caldert’s journal.” That was an identity every Blackcroft student kne

They took pictures of her in many poses and with a camera angle so that it could look more intimate because Myra was unconscious. Once they were done with the pictures, they again changed Myra's dress in the previous one. "Okay, we are done. The pictures are so sexy, and I wondered what would happen when they were pasted on the walls of the whole college," Ria said, thinking about tomorrow. There was an evil glint in her eyes. She was always had jealous of Myra because she could see the lust in Sameer's eyes whenever he caught her. "It would be so satisfying seeing this bitch ruined," Kriti said, smiling in satisfaction.

My hole stayed wide open, twitching and unable to close, creamy seed bubbling out with every aftershock. Ethan stepped back, breathing hard, and looked at the complete mess he had made of me. I was a wreck — hair tangled, face flushed, tits red from sucking and biting, and my pussy thoroughly destroyed and leaking gallons of his cum. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and took a quick photo of my cum-dripping cunt. “For my private collection,” he said with a smirk. “So I can jerk off to my stepmom’s wrecked pussy when I’m back at college.”

It’s heavier than I expect. When I open it, my heart nearly stops. Inside are scraps of paper, folded notes, and a journal with a worn black cover. The sight of it alone brings tears to my eyes. Jaden’s handwriting covers the pages, messy, uneven, sometimes smudged as if from tears. I press my palm against the book, my throat tightening. I whisper into the stillness, “Oh, Jaden…” I sit on the edge of his bed and open the journal. The words hit me like waves. Some pages are filled with anger, sharp strokes of the pen carving out his frustration.

While she spoke, I was just staring at her, wondering what she was yapping about. “You need to see this.” She pushed the journal in my hand but I hesitated before flipping it open. And when I did, I barely scanned through the first page completely before my eyes grew wide in shock. It was Moore’s journal. Each page had a detailed entry of everything: meetings, bribes, plots, coup... and then one entry stood out like a knife in the dark. ‘Meeting scheduled at the bar. Discuss strategy to implicate Aurora. Must secure false evidence before the next Council meeting.’

She named it: Bruised Intentions It featured: – A brush scraping canvas, then halting, as if frozen mid-thought – A deep breath interrupted midway – Rain hitting the roof in a rhythm too fast to follow – Silence that didn’t feel intentional She added a note beside it: _“We record pain not to romanticize it. But to remind ourselves it lived here too.”_ The loop played softly in the background of the hall. Anyone who lingered there could feel the pause—the ache of a story that didn’t demand to be resolved. Yam updated the ledger, writing slowly, his hand dragging across the page in careful, deliberate strokes: