Novel & Cerita I Want To Be A Big Baddie

She was scared of dying, and she was too much of a coward to leave him. I guess I should thank my dad for teaching me to be the predator and not the prey. Because of him, I taught myself always to have power over those wimpy little nerds and show them who the boss is. I enjoyed being feared. It was better than being pushed around. Shoot, I even got any girl I wanted. I had bronzed skin, tousled brown hair, green eyes, and my face was strong and define, which qualified me as handsome to most girls in my school. I made sure I worked out regularly, so I had well-defined abs and biceps, so all I had to do was to pretend to be interested, and they were eager to be with me, the high school bad boy

she explained, "there are lots of bad people who try to hurt you and take advantage of you, so I had to be extra strong and smarter than all those thugs trying to hurt me. You can be that tough too." I just need to be smarter. "You should have let me handle her," his friend Donny bragged. "She'd have never slipped away from me, OVER." "I'll zip tie her this time," the grumpy bad guy yelled. "OVER" But the mean man wasn't paying attention to me. That was stupid. He should have been watching me because while he was trying to tell his friend how good he is, I was being bad. Wiggling off the bed slowly, I was on my feet and outside of my bedroom door before he had turned around to see me gone.

And the second, I’m laughing like a child who got the attention of his crush. Around her. I do feel like a fucking child. Everything I know and that I have gone disappears and I find myself Turing to find the right words. Trying to do the right thing. Should I mention how hard as fuck that is? I used to think righteous people were weak and that’s why they followed roles and had airtight principles. Now that I’m trying to not be a cruel bastard. I’m seeing how much harder it is to be good than to be bad. Being a villain or a scary alpha is the easiest route. And I guess that makes us fucking weak and not the other way around.

“Nothing, he didn’t even talk to Stacy about it or even approached the girl again. Though the girl claimed that he apologized to her but no one believed her because Adrian didn’t bother to agree to it when he was asked by Stacy in front of everyone.” “I see, he is even worse than I thought,” I implied. “And also dreamy,” I heard her whisper in infatuation and I rolled my eyes, “and to add more to it, he is the school’s bad boy.” “And you like him because of that?” “Who doesn’t like a bad boy?” She asked me. “I don’t,” I answered, “I prefer putting them in their place.” “Like you did Kevin? You know he is going to get back at you for that.”

My flirting skills are subpar and I can only hope the consistent fluttering of my lashes while I look at him from underneath them, catches his attention enough for him to ask for my number later. Cassidy’s crash course on boys 101 taught me that boys like shy girls and I’m aiming for that look even when I am anything but that. I know I said no boys this summer but after last night with mum, I’m suddenly feeling a little rebellious. And what better way to rebel than with boys? Again, that’s another thing I pulled out of Cassidy’s lessons on boys which is ironic because we both have little to no experience in that department. At least, real life ones.

At her dubious mercy. What a psychopath. “Oh, just a little special cocktail I concocted, just for you, my dear! It’s a combination of your parents’ blood, and it’s going to make you extra special, and extra strong!”

I’ve been described with a lot of unpleasant and derogatory descriptions all my life because of just doing something I wanted to do. Horrible, nasty, filthy, awful, terrible, dick, weak, scumbag, dirtbag, stinkpot, and douche bag and almost every negative adjective Merriam-Webster could think of. People got to say what they got to say and for me, it’s not that bad when you feel that you’re the good guy and the rest is just being a villain charged with the hunger to destroy you. I think that way. I’m a fucking legend.

He will see what it’s like to keep a lioness in a cage. A mobster… damn. The boss of mobsters. It’s like it’s engraved on my forehead: certified trouble magnet. It’s official, I am the queen of bad luck. But you know what? It’s not the end of the world. I will get out of this. I always do. And I will get out of here too. I am a Warrior. A fighter. A winner. A damn survivor. And I already have a plan. Plan A: seduce his right-hand man. Make him crazy about me, so he will free me. I’m beautiful, I’m smart, and I know how to handle it.

“Tell me, little man, how exactly are you going to fight those evil people? What’s your big plan?” Greg’s face lit up like Christmas morning. Without warning, he climbed onto his chair and then boldly onto the edge of the table, standing tall with his little chest puffed out and fists planted on his hips. “Yeah! I am Mafia Greg and I am here!” he announced dramatically, striking a superhero pose that sent a ripple of laughter through the room. “I’m gonna use my super strength to punch the bad guys, and I’ll drive a fast car like Daddy’s, and I’ll have guns but only for protection, and I’ll never let anyone make Mommy cry again. Boom! Bad guys down!”

Which billionaire shops at Target? I stomped out of the building, my pride bruised and plot foiled. One thing was clear: Next time, I had to go full villain mode. ~~~~ I spent the whole night plotting like a villain. Clearly, the petty stuff wasn’t cutting it. If I wanted that two-million-dollar sendoff, I had to go full chaos mode. The next morning, I walked into that penthouse armed with a plan so outrageously brilliant, it deserved its own villain soundtrack. Step one: Sabotage the schedule.