Romans & histoires Cruel

"More than disgusting! It's filthy! Not only bullying students, but also abusing animals. This kind of person is just a shame, inhuman. How can a girl be so cruel?" A voices continuously heard, but none of them a good one.

Cruel isn't? The feeling of being prohibited, to love and show your affection towards the love of your life. Loving someone is already a sin in the Tribe of Picaresque. They are prisoners, of their own people and leaders. Why can't they just live equally, right? It will be more amazing and fruitful. Power and wealth, can really change one's personality. Outside or even inside of it. They eat by their own ambition. Greed ambitions. I'm really wondering, how could they get sleep? After all the bad things they've done to their own kind, are they still consider as human?

Preston was left all alone. "I know who you are, you bloody shit. You are a psycho who loves to torture girls above the age of 18 and you experience pleasure from doing it and it is a disorder called Schadenfreude. You were a kid when you were diagnosed with this. You liked hurting people and you know what I learn from your past that you are a manwhore who doesn't even look good going for beautiful girls. You know what the fuck you did, have you ever felt guilty for hurting those people. If you had a girl and if she gets raped like Isabella in front of you, will you be happy from that misery. Not even your daughter, what if your wife gets touched by those men. I know your wife died of cancer

Why hell does she have to be beautiful I silently cursed to myself. And Carter too looked like he was enjoying his interaction with Emma. He did his gorgeous beautiful smile that he usually did to me but instead right now he was seductively smiling at another woman. One of those seductive, killer smiles that immediately put me back up. A smile that told the woman there was no question he was interested. What the ever loving hell? I stood a few steps away from them, unnoticed, as I attempted to control the vicious jealousy and anger that surged through my veins. I wasn’t a jealous person, I reminded myself.

supposedly maintained peace, but in reality it was nothing more than a display of dominance. I stood at the edge of the field, trying to stay at the very back so I wouldn’t be noticed. The air was heavy with testosterone and raw wolf energy. Then they arrived. The warriors of the Brown Stone pack marched in like a conquering army. Mason led them. He was tall, broad shouldered, and surrounded by a dark aura that seemed to swallow the afternoon light. A scar ran across his face, and dark tattoos covered his arms, coming alive with every movement of his muscles. They called him the Cruel Alpha. At least, that’s what people whispered behind my back. They said he w

“And you’re okay with that?” “I’m proud of you,” he said quietly. That word hit harder than any insult ever had. She turned fully to face him. “I don’t want to become cruel.” “You won’t,” Damien said. “Cruelty doesn’t question itself.” She searched his face. “And you?” A ghost of something dark flickered in his eyes. “I crossed that line long ago.” Her fingers curled into his shirt. “Then teach me how not to lose myself.” His hand came up, cupping her jaw. “Stay angry at the right things. And never stop being afraid of what you’re capable of.”

I couldn't even remember. The sight of him—all tall and imposing—scared the living hell out of me. I'd never met this man personally, but I knew him by reputation like everyone else. He was known as The Cruel Alpha and was allegedly the Alpha King's right hand. He was known for being vicious, and he'd killed many men during the war that wrecked our world. During the reign of the old alphas, women were respected. Adored. Now, they were nothing. Just playthings. Breeders.

Philip closed the curtains of his room and sat down on the bed with his laptop. He had to find out who was responsible for the unjustified accusations against the CRUZ company. The company had suffered a further decrease in profit by seventy percent over the last few weeks. He understood that it was easier to fall from a ladder than to get back up and he didn't want it to happen to the CRUZ company.

Dante Moretti. Victor’s most ruthless rival. She had heard the name whispered in fearful voices around the estate, but now, seeing him up close, she understood why. He was nothing like Victor. Where Victor’s dominance was controlled and suffocating, Dante exuded something more sinister…. chaotic and cruel. He was tall and lean, his dark suit perfectly fitted, but his presence alone made the room feel smaller. His jet-black hair was slicked back, exposing a sharp jawline and piercing green eyes that held a sick kind of amusement.