Masked Villainess Novels & Stories

Strong. Marylyn walked in, wearing black sunglasses and her tight red coat. This color really fits her well—a shining little devil. She is another big mistake I made, worse than Leylla. At least Leyla, I know she does not have it in her to harm anybody. But this one, she is a walking catastrophe. She is all sorts of negative energy compounded into one pretty face—proud, arrogant, bitchy, scheming, manipulative, a rotten soul, and worst of all, a cold-blooded murderer. She never listens to anyone. She only does what her cold soul tells her to. She's the one I regret the most…the most of all. She spotted me right away and walked over like she owned the world. Her heels clicked loudly on the

The woman was amazed by the luxury of Marcel's home. 'If I can make him fall in love with me, I can definitely take revenge on both of them. A powerful man like this should be mine.' The woman gave a wicked smile, then followed the assistant, Migan, into a room. Of course, a mafia heir would have a room called an interrogation room, for both enemies and friends, because that's where they acted as they pleased. The beautiful woman entered the room and was utterly shocked by what she saw. There were several preserved human skulls visible, along with several preserved corpses. Her knees felt weak, but she tried not to show fear, knowing this was her only way to live and take her revenge.

There would always be a scumbag who believes it's his turn to cause trouble but not this time. Not this fvcking time. Linda now looked up to and trusted him to protect her. He would not let her down. He would rather die than let it happen. Anything to preserve her forever. Even if it requires him to remain the mafia monster who projects bullets and slits throats with zero existence of remorse in his emotion. No one would fvcking hurt his MYSTERIOUS WOMAN. Ever. ...THE END...

It seems like instinct, even though they haven't done anything wrong yet, I can already smell the villainous vibes in them. It's not all my fault. They say a woman's instinct is exceptional! But when I think about what happened earlier, the woman's face was so pale because of its extreme fear. Her hands even trembled! Okay, now I get on why the maid reacted like that when I asked her respectfully. She must have not expected her wicked Lady would be so kind for a moment as if an angel had intervened. In order words, Lady Marina is a spoiled brat and evil since birth.

Damien asked, looking around the room. "Hmm," I thought as I looked up and noticed a chandelier in front of me. It was captivating and hypnotic to the eyes. "Yes," I replied, returning my gaze to Damien. "Say, what do Mafias do?" I inquired, widening his eyes. He appeared surprised by my unexpected question. "In a nutshell, mafias do unimaginable bad things that you don't need to know," he said, lowering his gaze. I raised an eyebrow and asked bluntly, "Why? Aren't I your woman?" Damien was taken aback by what I had said, and he laughed, placing his right hand on his mouth.

Alpha Evan explained, asking what he wanted to at the end while Miss Lillian listened attentively, clearly willing to help as much as she could. Her brows furrowed as she thought about it. "I do know of a war like that. It was between three werewolf packs, and a witch coven out in the woods. From what I know, they were a bunch of powerful witches, so three packs had joined forces to take them down. They had been performing some sort of magic that had apparently been dangerous according to the surrounding werewolf packs and they had deemed it necessary to bring those witches down," Miss Lillian explained, her frown deepening as she spoke.

She possessed sharp, aristocratic features, piercing, intelligent eyes, and an expression of pure, unadulterated malice. She looked down at them and smiled, a predatory flash of perfection. "Welcome back to your own kingdom, Lorenzo. I must admit, your little holographic trick at the mansion was delightfully clever." Lorenzo's gray eyes narrowed into slits of pure, lethal hatred, his weapon locking onto her chest. "You." The woman tilted her head with chilling amusement, completely unbothered by the dozen laser sights currently painting her torso. "Yes, me," she purred, her smile widening into something monstrous. "My name... is Amelia Van Arlen."

A sharp, definitive gesture. In front of the mirror this time, I contemplate myself. Elara Vance. Heiress. CEO of Vance Holdings. Multi-billionaire. One of the most feared women in financial circles. The face is a mask of cold porcelain. The eyes, an icy blue, betray nothing. The lips are a serious line, without a trace of lipstick. Perfection is a fortress. No one will see the inner tremors. No one will guess the mark hidden beneath the expensive fabric. No one will suspect that, the night before, this same woman knelt, blind and trembling, to have her very body taken from her.

SCARLETT : There was nothing uncool about what they wore, not that it wasn't supposed to be a criterion for leading us to impending doom. They were dressed differently from other rogues, both the ones that attacked and the ones we found dead on the way. The four villains stood in the space we were in, their presence heavy. The woman with long purple hair that fell past her waist, looking wild and untamed, had clothes that were dark, fitting her body like a second skin. She wore shiny metallic gloves, and her boots were tall, making no noise. Her golden eyes glowed with power. It felt as if she could snap my head in two without a worry.

I lean closer to the mirror, applying another coat of lipstick… bloodred and unapologetic. The color bleeds across my lips, transforming my mouth into something both beautiful and lethal. My eyes are rimmed with black, making my irises look almost supernatural in their intensity. Cold. Calculating. Unflinching. These are the eyes of a woman with nothing left to lose. The thought curls my lips into a smile that doesn't reach those eyes. I step back, assessing the final product. The world wants a villain? I'll give them one they'll never forget!