Novel & Cerita I'm Not A Villain

For as long as I can remember, my family and I have been living in an underground basement that's completely shut off from the outside world. My parents have told me that the zombie apocalypse is terrorizing the outside world. The air is completely plagued with the zombie virus, and we'll die if we ever leave the basement. In order to save the supplies—which are already dwindling, to begin with—I've starved myself to the point I'm all skin and bones despite being only 18 years old. When I realize that there's only one last can of food left, I leave behind a suicide note. "Mom, Dad, now there's one less mouth to feed. You'll last a few more days." After that, I slit my wrist right away. Once I'm dead, my soul phases through the thick and heavy metal door. Bright sunlight illuminates the entire world. It's a beautiful, peaceful world filled with greenery. I can even hear birds chirping in the distance. Mom, Dad, and a bunch of people are throwing a barbecue party on the lawn. The mouth-watering smell of food being grilled permeates the air. So, it turns out that the zombie apocalypse is just a lie that's designated to trap me inside the fortress. I'm the only one who has died in this sunny, peaceful world.

Sandy grew up surrounded by kids who adored the story of Cinderella—the gentle girl who lost her father, was cast aside by her cruel stepfamily, and endured endless chores without ever fighting back. But Sandy? She loathed it. She couldn’t stand how Cinderella stayed silent, how she let herself be tormented. Then one day, Sandy died in a fire. And woke up as Cinderella. Thrown into the very tale she despised, Sandy tries to play her part—scrubbing floors, swallowing her pride, surviving the cruelty of her stepmother and stepsisters. But everything changes when she’s kidnapped by bandits. Cornered in the forest, her fear turns into rage… and something inside her erupts. A powerful gust of wind explodes from her body, flattening everything around her. Real, terrifying magic. Her eyes flew wide, her mouth agape—pure disbelief etched across her face. Could it be? Did Cinderella possess supernatural powers? And not just her—almost everyone in the kingdom shimmered with something… otherworldly. Was this still the fairytale she thought she knew? Or had the story slipped into something far more enchanted than anyone imagined?

Please read until chapter 10, I guarantee you will like it. This story begins with A modern-world reader dies and wakes up as Kael Dreadmourne , the forgotten eldest son of the novel's primary villain, Lord Varen Dreadmourne, who was already slaughtered by the hero before the story even began. In the original novel, Kael was a background corpse , killed in Chapter 3 alongside his father's household. He has maybe two lines of dialogue before dying. He has four days before the hero's army arrives to purge the Dreadmourne bloodline. His only way out: the woman the original novel never explained , Seraphyne Voss, the Crimson Empress, the final boss the hero never actually defeated. In canon, she simply vanished. The readers never got closure. Kael knows why: she made a deal with someone. She traded her freedom for something. He's going to find out what. And offer her a better deal.

There is no wrath like a woman betrayed in the most gruesome way. Queen Luna Aakifahlynn Mathiasen was a fierce Ace wolf, gifted and highly favored by the Divine Moon Goddess. She was also a devoted mate, wife, and Queen of the Tamman Kingdom in the Anatola Continent. Aakifahlynn was betrayed most horrendously by her husband and mate, Alpha King Jairus Mathiasen. In the moment before her death, she resigned herself to her faith and welcomed the unknown of the afterlife if there was such a thing. However, she was stunned at what happened next. Queen Luna Aakifahlynn found herself alive three years earlier, with memories of her past life still very much untouched. Wrought by sour detestation, with a second chance, Queen Luna Aakifahlynn vowed the destruction of her enemies. However, what would happen when her sworn Ayacquean enemy offers to help her? The disgraced, dark, and mysterious Emperor Demarion Dracul. Can she trust her enemy? What secrets is the Emperor hiding? The Ayacques were considered enemies of the Kingdom of Tamman because they never surrendered to the throne and their constant incitement of war. They were conniving, calculative, deceitful, yet desirable. What would happen if this unlikely combo started noticing each other somewhere along the lines of their thirst for revenge? Dive in and find out, and in the end – Would you call her the Victim or the Villain? --------------------------------------- "You can never be her." He all but moaned in her ear, tilting his head towards Taisiya, standing off to the side and looking like the ever-so-graceful Queen, ready to take HER place. "Every time I gaze upon you, I WILLED myself to see HER." He growled erotically. Jairus then kissed Aakifahlynn's nose once more, showing the people he was so ....

On the night Aria Valery was supposed to celebrate her engagement, she walked in on the man she thought was her fated mate buried inside another woman. Her best friend. Shattered, humiliated, and drunk on heartbreak, she stumbled into the path of Damian Storm, billionaire tycoon, ruthless Lycan chief, and the most dangerous playboy in the supernatural world. He was everything her mate wasn’t. Older. Colder. Sinfully irresistible. The kind of man who never touched the same woman twice… until her. What began as one night of reckless revenge spiraled into an obsession neither of them could escape. But Damian Storm doesn’t just break rules, he rewrites them. And being desired by him comes with a price. Her family is marked by the Council. Her father has been dragged away by Gammas. Her cheating mate refuses to release their bond. And Damian? He’s a man who swore never to love again, yet can’t stop claiming her like she was always meant to be his. Between betrayal, forbidden lust, and a prophecy that could tear the Lycan race apart, Aria must choose: walk away from the most dangerous man alive… or risk burning with him. Because once Damian Storm has tasted you, he doesn’t let go. Not even fate can save you. But now, her cheating fated mate who hates her, won't still let her go as well.

Richard Montague, a rich heir in Durmask, has just posted a new tweet on Twitter. The accompanying photo features a luxurious winery. The caption reads, "My wife loves this place a lot, so I bought it immediately." I tap on the photo, soon realizing that this is Amie Winery, the same place that I had briefly mentioned to Richard last week. Then, I recall the fact that he has told me that he's prepared a surprise anniversary gift for me in a mysterious tone. So, this winery must be the gift! With a wide smile on my face, I respond to his tweet in the comment section. But three minutes later, Kiara York, a popular celebrity from the same company that I'm in, quickly proclaims her love for Richard on the Internet. "Wow, my husband is so generous! I'm very satisfied with this gift!" All the onlookers and fans begin shipping Kiara and Richard like mad overnight. "What a sweet relationship! As expected of the rich heir in Durmask! Even the way he announces his relationship is very domineering!" The whole turn of events leaves me feeling stunned. Once I realize that Kiara is just trying to ride on the coattails of Richard's popularity, I quickly post a picture of my marriage certificate online. It comes with a caption. "If she's the legitimate wife, then who am I?" But Kiara soon posts a marriage certificate of her own. To my surprise, there's a photo attached to the certificate. Richard's face is shown in the photo. Kiara mocks me, "There's a limit to being a lunatic fangirl, you know! Rick and I are husband and wife by law! You can't just slap a Photoshopped picture here and pretend that he's your husband!" As I stare at both copies of the marriage certificates, which show the courthouse's stamp, I fall in deep contemplation. Then, I look at the place Kiara tagged on her Twitter comment. Finally, I can't resist calling Richard, who's currently overseas. "How dare you engage in bigamy behind my back!"

I've been married to billionaire CEO Christopher Hayes for two years, and only now does my ex, Benjamin Clarke, decide to propose. The rumble of engines echoes as a fleet of black trucks lines up neatly outside my private estate. The drivers unload box after box of gifts—luxury watches, fine jewelry, couture gowns, and even a grand piano. Standing proudly among the shower of rose petals, he announces, "Sienna, I told you—the only reason I had a child with my sister-in-law was because my older brother died in an accident, and she wanted to keep our family's bloodline alive. "The baby just turned a month old. I've fulfilled my promise to her, and now I've come to marry you!" I lounge in the heated pool, having just finished my postpartum recovery exercises, and I can't even be bothered to look at him. He knits his brows, and his tone turns patronizing. "I know you're upset, but you're the heiress of the Grant family; you have everything you could ever want! Why can't you show a little compassion for a widow who just lost her husband? "I know it was selfish of me to make you wait for two years, but I'm back now! Our wedding will be held in three days. I can tell you still care about me. If not, why would you greet me in such a revealing bikini?" His overconfidence makes me chuckle. "Guards, get him out of here! I'm trying to swim here." What a joke. I've just welcomed the heir of Hayes Group into the world, and Christopher has been insisting that I take our baby home to visit my parents. Yet, somehow, I end up running into this idiot.

On my 18th birthday, my stepmother, Sheila Coleman, teams up with her secret lover, William Lynch, to kill me in cold blood. After that, she carves my femur into a bone sculpture and presents it to my dad as a gift. Dad loves the sculpture to no end. Thanks to Sheila slandering me in the past, he doesn't give a damn about me at all, even after finding out that I've gone missing. In fact, he even declares that he wants to cut off all ties with me. "Don't bring that brat up in front of me from now on! I hope that she dies out there!" But when he finds out that I'm really dead, he goes crazy from remorse.

As I walk out of the emergency room, a woman rushes over to me. "You're a doctor, right? My son scraped his knee. Hurry up and come treat him!" I am about to explain, but she glares at me and questions indignantly, "Isn't a doctor supposed to save people? You have time to slack off, but you have no time to treat my son's wound. Is that it?" She grabs my collar and drags me toward the ward. I try to explain, "Ma'am, I’m not—" But she doesn't listen at all and slaps me across the face. "Not what? Are you blind? Can't you see my son is bleeding? Instead of helping my son, you treat those poor nobodies! If you keep delaying my son's treatment, I won't let you off! "Get on your knees and apologize to him right now! Otherwise, I'll file a complaint and have your license revoked!" I endure the sharp pain and struggle to lift my head. In my five years of practicing medicine, this is the first time I have ever been complained about by a living person. "It's not that I won't treat him. I am a forensic pathologist..."

My husband and his employees went on a camping trip, and his assistant posted on social media. [We drew lots for the tents, and guess who ended up with the handsome CEO!] The post showed a selfie she took. Behind her, my husband was taking his shirt off. Someone left a comment. [A man and a woman alone together? Sounds juicy.] The assistant quickly replied with a smirking emoji. [I like a little excitement!] After I liked the post, it was deleted right away. Soon, my husband called me on video. In front of his crying assistant and several employees, he scolded, “Why did you like the post?! It was just a game! Don’t be so close-minded!” As I watched him hold the assistant in arms and comforted her, I quietly hung up. After ten years of loving Caelan Sullivan, I decided then and there to let go.