Cruel Intentions Journal Novels & Stories

Once we were alone, I pulled the journal from my waistband and slapped it hard against his chest. “I know what your plan was,” I hissed, my voice filled with anger. “I know why your people came here. I’m keeping this book, Clyde. And if you dare cross me, even once, I’ll hand it to Aria. I won't even have to ask twice before she slits that pretty human throat of yours. Do you understand me?” Clyde didn't flinch. He watched me for a few seconds, searching my face to see if I had the stomach to follow through.

Silence filled the room like a wave. Camela gripped Vincent's shirt, trembling with fear. "What did he mean?" she asked. Before he could respond— The journal cracked open again. But this time, it wasn’t written in her handwriting; it was written in his. Vincent's eyes grew wide as black letters scrawled across the page, forming a single line: Final Journal. Entry Three: The fox dies first. Camela’s scream shattered the silence—

" I took my new cellphone out of my bag while walking, but five seconds later my screen went blank because it hadn't been charged. As I put it back in my bag, my hand touched a piece of paper in my bag. The check, I forgot to give it to him. I tilted my head up, looking up at the cloudy sky. The sound of thunder was heard from afar. Looks like today wasn't my good day. *** It's been raining in Manhattan since this afternoon until now. All the employees working on this floor have returned since 4 hours ago, only I am left. My eyes feel tired after a day of staring at the laptop screen. I closed my eyes for a few seconds then opened them again, I still had half an hour left. Then at half past

You know he's too old for you right"My Char says smirking, oh did I forget to mention she's aware of my strange crush on him. I bit my bottom lip. That was exactly why he was so attractive; I got hot for an older man. I got hot for him and I quickly wrote my thoughts down. Spilling my inner desires on the poor page. I'm pretty sure my journal is begging me to stop polluting her with my dark thoughts. I hesitated writing the last word that popped into my mind . A red alert kept blaring at the back of my mind as I feel myself getting wet just thinking about writing a fucking four-letter word. It shouldn't have been a big deal - writing down the word "cock". What was I getting so worked up over

Out of utter curiosity, Jasper and I studied the paper Nathaniel just showed us. It was a photo of someone's conversation that involves business payment transactions. And it says the other person in the conversation is the killer sending a visual confirmation of a dead wolf. So, I checked the list on my phone and just found out two of them were already deleted. From fifteen, it goes down to thirteen. And while staring at Joshua and Justine's names, my worries and fears could not help but emerge on their own.

As I held her close, I couldn't deny the depth of my emotions, even if they defied my usual demeanor, even if it meant straying from the path of calmness and predictability. Losing her was unbearable, an ache that tore through my very core. It felt like a cruel twist of fate that she would choose that reckless Alpha over me. How could she not see the depth of my love for her? I couldn't fathom it. Driven by a mix of jealousy and desperation, I resorted to actions I now deeply regret. I vilely pushed her to divulge every detail of what she did with that Alpha yesterday, this was a cruel and despicable act, I admitted. Each hickey I left on her delicate skin, each tooth mark, served as painful

“You’re both here for detention, not for—whatever this is. Put the journal down, Ethan.” But Ethan only smiled wider. “So it’s true. You want it to happen. To you. Right here, in this classroom.” My chest tightened. “You’re crossing a line.” Jay laughed under his breath. “No, Miss Carter. You crossed it first—when you wrote about us.” My eyes widened. “What?” “Don’t play dumb,” Ethan said softly, turning the journal so I could see. My own messy handwriting stared back at me: The way they fight each other… like wild energy I can’t stop watching. I shouldn’t think about it, but sometimes I do. Sometimes too much.

A tiny current ran up my arm. I want this one in my Room of Ecstasy. “Kris Hunter,” she said softly. “Journalist in training. I’m only here at the library for the internship — research access, archive skills, building sources. Nothing glamorous.” A journalist. The word should have made me cautious. Instead it made me intrigued. Dangerous territory. Perfect territory. I released her hand slowly, reached into my jacket, and pulled out one of my private cards — the matte black one, no frills, just my name and direct cell in silver foil.

He was playing some kind of game, and she was going to kno every move he made. She approached her desk, hugging open the drawer in which her small notebook lay in waiting. She flipped through the pages of the notes she had taken-it felt like forever-she wrote down each and every instance of Jayla's cruelty, Jasmine's insecurities, and Axel's manipulative tendencies. They were all there, perfectly cataloged, like pieces of a puzzle just dying to be put together.

"What do you mean?" "I'm taking you to my house so you can take care of your pet yourself." Fear filled my heart like the blood that fills my veins. He was a murderer. “I'm not coming to your house or anything,” I said, my voice angry. "Stop that car right now." “No,” he said, his voice expressionless. "What is your intention?" I asked. "Kill me too because I saw you kill someone?" “I wouldn't take you home to kill you,” Edim said coldly. His dark gaze found me inside the car, strong enough to make my legs tremble. "If I had the intent to kill, I would have already killed in the presence of that bastard."