Femme Fatale Dangerous Woman Novels & Stories

“I sensed you're different. And you have the qualities I needed; brain, beauty, and motivation. I'll turn you into a Femme Fatale and you'll be my weapon to eliminate my enemy.” “A woman is a man's ultimate weakness. Cleopatra, Helen, and Delilah all have one thing in common: they wreak havoc on men's lives and are quite successful at it. You're like them. You have what it takes to succeed in anything you set your mind to.” Ember could see how delusional he was. “No! I refuse to be used as your tool for revenge!” She exploded, “You expect me to kill a man easily when I've never even shot a deer in my life!”

The female assassins are also known as 'Femme Fatales' they are trained to seduce the Dons into giving them their most private information before they strike and take his life. By leaving a trail of misery and disaster in their wake and ensuring that there are no diversions or liabilities, Neriman was deprived of the opportunity to begin her own family. She wanted to leave this life behind along with her twin brother, but when they were forced to do the unthinkable to save Sedar's wife, she stood by Sedar because she loved his wife Mercedes for befriending her the moment they met. It is why Neriman has become very overprotective of Mercedes and I have a feeling she will be the same with Mila

“To the kingdom.” Lydia took it. Slid it onto her finger. And felt the shift deep inside her. Not just desire. Not just rage. Power. Interior: Damian’s Penthouse – Minutes Later Damian watched the screen as her signature bloomed across the page. “She signed,” the woman whispered beside him. Damian’s jaw tensed. “She signed for him.” “She signed for herself,” the woman corrected. “And that, Damian… means she’s more dangerous than any of us.”

The man was so fucking organized, it almost seems like he does not make mistakes. “Let's go meet the other ladies,” Brenda offered. I didn't want to meet the other ladies, they are judgmental women who pretend to be saints, but I knew their dirty secrets. Ranging from Lana: The goody two shoes girlfriend who has fucked her boyfriend's friend multiple times behind her boyfriend's back. Then to Maria: The one who pretends to be a virgin but she is a fucking whore who sleeps with men for money. Then Aurora: The one who talks about staying with one guy, but she has jumped to four guys in just six months because she is trying to find the right cock that would fuck her well.

I wanted to push her against the wall and bury my face between her thighs until she screamed. Goddamn, this girl is dangerous. I knew her type. Beatrice was like that. The kind of women that slowly pulled you in until you lost sight of anything else. I called them the sirens. And I wasn’t wrong, if anything, her eyes showed it. “For God’s sake, woman,” I said with a low chuckle, trying to hide how hard I was getting. “Stop biting your lip like that and say something.” “I—I got lost.” I raised an eyebrow, still holding her close. “Indeed.”

He wasn't fast enough. Ruby's eyes had gone dark, something feral flickering behind them as she crossed the room in three quick strides and seized a fistful of the woman's hair. "Looks like you need a mirror," she said, voice deceptively pleasant, "to see who the real slut here is." The slap that followed rang out loud enough to silence the entire room. "Ruby, let her go," Lance said, though there was no real urgency in it. She didn't. The second slap followed the first, then a third, each one landing with the same precise, controlled fury, until the woman's cheek had begun to bruise beneath her palm's repeated strikes.

She was thinking. She lay in the dark beside the man she had pulled out of a lake fifteen years ago and thought about a woman who had walked away from this apartment with a suitcase and a signed document and somehow managed to become the most dangerous person in the room. She thought about what needed to happen next. And by the time Damian's breathing slowed beside her she already knew exactly what she was going to do. She had made one mistake with Helena. She had underestimated her. She had looked at a quiet devoted wife and seen someone soft. Someone who would fold when pushed. Someone who would take the pictures and the rumour and the set visit and retreat back into the life she had befor

the woman finally spoke, drawing his attention. He turned around to see a picture now on the table. "Have you seen her?" The bartender shook his head at once. It was a lady with an ugly scar. He hadn't met anyone like that. "Sorry I can't help you." Saying nothing, the woman tucked the picture back into her pocket. "Who's she?" The bartender was curious. The woman was already on her feet, dragging her weapon sheath. "She's someone that shouldn't live amongst us. Someone dangerous."

, I asked, anger overtaking the frustration. "She is dangerous, very dangerous and cunning. That woman is not to be messed with and I still strongly advise you to leave the house if you don't want to fucked with her", she warned and I was about to scream. " Tell me her name, tell me who is she? Tell me the name of the woman that should make me leave all of my sacrifice and effort to run away cowardly, tell me scarlet, tell me?", I asked, my voice increased up a notch.

Not when I saw her. The red-haired witch. She’s more dangerous than a viper, and the last thing I want is for my lamb to get caught in her web. She drove away, and I followed, my hands gripping the wheel with lethal intent. We rode for an hour before she finally stopped in the middle of a deserted field. I slammed the door shut as I stepped out, my blood roaring with unspent fury. Saida stood there, waiting, her lips curled in an infuriating smile. "Look what the cat dragged in," she mused, crossing her arms. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"