Nancy Vicious Novels & Stories

In my last life, Enzo Saletta saved me from the fire. Chiara Bellini died in my place. For months, he cared for me like a devoted husband. He guarded my hospital room. He bought gifts for our unborn child. He told me none of it was my fault. I believed him. Until the night after I gave birth. Our son was asleep beside me. I was too weak to move, still aching from labor, but for one brief moment, I believed we were safe. Then I smelled smoke. The door would not open. Outside the locked door, Enzo’s voice cut through the smoke. “You took Chiara from me. Now burn with your child.” I screamed his name until my throat bled. No one opened the door. The flames swallowed me and my newborn son. When I opened my eyes again, I was back inside that burning warehouse. Five months pregnant. Smoke in my lungs. Chiara still alive. This time, I did not call Enzo. I waited until he came. I watched him carry Chiara out first. Then I crawled through the fire alone, bleeding for a child he would never get the chance to kill. Everyone believed I had set the fire. Everyone called me jealous, vicious, and insane. But they had forgotten one thing. Before I became Enzo Saletta’s wife, I was the woman who helped build the Carmine family’s security system. Chiara deleted the main footage. She did not delete mine.

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

When Alessandro, the mafia leader, had his heart shattered by an older woman, he sealed it away, and swore he would never be fooled by an immature emotion like love. One cannot play with a dangerous man's emotions and get away with it. When Alessandro learns that his heartbreaker has given birth, he kidnaps the baby shortly after its birth. At first, he meant to brutally murder the child, but he didn't have the heart to kill the human who was the size of his hand. The fact that he did not kill the infant did not imply that he returned it; instead, Alessandro raised it. As Lily grew older and more mature, her love for Alessandro started to take a romantic turn. She was hankering after Alessandro's tenderness and touches, but the mafia leader kept turning her down. Lily didn't lack the ability to fight for what she wanted just because she was an innocent girl. In the end, she was able to get Alessandro above her—between her legs, to be exact—and even win his love. Poor thing, by the time she discovered the skeleton of the man she thought she knew, it was too late. The half-truth she discovered broke her apart, forcing her to choose between forgiving Alessandro and letting go of everything or watch the man she loves die. Lily initially picked the second option, but she had already allowed Alessandro to own her emotions in the same way that he had her body, so letting go proved impossible. As she battles to reunite with the guy her heart aches for, she ultimately made the decision to give up the innocent version of herself and transform into the vicious female counterpart of her lover.

I had just walked out of the Pack Healer's cabin, clutching the crumpled paper of my official pregnancy report, when I refreshed my social media feed. An anonymous post on the local pack forum caught my eye. "I've been sleeping with the Alpha for a while now, and I just found out I'm pregnant. But his Luna is knocked up too, and she's months ahead of me. I hate the idea of him having a pup with someone else. I want to carry his firstborn. How can I make him force his mate to get rid of it?" The comments section was flooded with curses and insults calling the poster a home-wrecker. But the original poster had liked one particularly vicious comment. "That's easy. Tell the Alpha that his Luna is too weak and that she is carrying an abomination corrupted by wolfsbane. Tell him it will be a stillborn anyway." I usually just lurked in these threads, but my wolf, Selene, growled within me. My fingers flew across the screen as I replied. "Aren't you afraid of the Moon Goddess's wrath for defying Her will like this?" The moment I hit send, my mate Kael, the Alpha of the Starlight Pack, walked up to me. He was holding a forged diagnosis report from the Healer, his face a mask of pained hesitation. "Seraphina," he said, his voice trembling. " The Healer says our pup's soul is fragmented. It has been judged as a stillborn. For your safety, we have to terminate the pregnancy immediately." He took a breath, looking deep into my eyes. "I have already made the arrangements. Tomorrow, before the Moon Goddess's altar, I will supervise the surgery personally to ensure your absolute safety."

Mine, my wolf said. Who's yours? I asked. The answer was Alpha Damir. I told my wolf to shut the hell up. --- Some vows are made in grief. Some are made in blood. I made mine on my knees in the rain, pushing dirt over the only two people who ever loved me, with smoke still in my lungs and fury so hot it had nowhere left to go. I came back from the UK and something felt wrong before I even reached the gate. The mansion was on fire. My father was already gone. My mother had seconds left and she used every single one of them to give me a name. Alpha Drakan. I carved that name into the inside of my chest and made a vow. Find him. Look him in the eye. Carve his heart out while it's still beating. Except Alpha Drakan was already dead. Two months in the ground. My parents died last night. Dead men don't order killings. Which meant I had the wrong name and the wrong man. My mother hadn't known. She was dying, she couldn't have known. But the name was Drakan and the blood was Drakan and the throne belonged to Drakan. His son. Damir, Alpha of Vordheim. Next of kin to a dead man and sitting on everything that name owned. My mother had pointed me here and here was where the answers lived. He was the one I suspected. The one I was watching. The one I had every intention of killing when the time was right. And then the moon goddess, who clearly has a vicious, twisted, absolutely unhinged sense of humour, went ahead and made him my mate.

On the day of my engagement party, my mother and I were sitting in the car waiting for the driver when my fiance's secretary suddenly sent me a video. In it, she had a middle-aged she-wolf by the hair, slapping her across the face again and again. "Selena, you gold-digging trash! Did you really think pretending to be some high-society socialite and getting engaged to Alpha Declan meant your mother could sneak into his house and steal?" Another slap landed. The woman's face was already grotesquely swollen. "Typical backwoods behavior. Always grabbing at things that don't belong to you. As Declan's secretary, I'm handling this filthy thief on his behalf." I slowly lowered my phone. Beside me, my mother was adjusting her necklace in her compact mirror. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled and patted my hand. "Thorncrown Pack may be an absolute disaster when it comes to business, darling, but Declan is very handsome. Once the alliance is official, your father and I can help straighten things out." Frowning, I replayed the video. The sharp cheekbones. The immaculate chignon. And the mole on her ear. Oh my God. That was my future mother-in-law! I immediately called back. "Vanessa, do you have any idea what a complete idiot you are? That's Declan's mother!" She let out a vicious laugh. "Oh, please. Declan already told me all about you. Some nobody his father forced him to marry. " "He doesn't even care about you, so why would he give a damn about your relatives?"

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

Everyone is talking about the private assistant of the CEO. She looks beautiful, mysterious, and strong. No one can tell that once, she was as fragile as a bird. All she was asking for was a peaceful death, for she found her life hopeless: After discovering she had cancer, poor Flora had only six months left. So she decided to let go of her abusive family and mafia boss husband Jack Black, to live her last days peacefully. Yet she got captured and tortured to death by her maniac husband. "Finally! That ugly child is gone!" Said the vicious stepmother at the funeral of Flora. But here she appears again as the precious protégée of Claude Knightly, the wealthiest billionaire in the city! That cruel and cold CEO is hiding a dark secret and a horrible goal. Flora knows that once he captures her, it will be the point of no return when everything she wants is a peaceful death! Will Flora be able to get her peaceful death? Or will fate push her to run away, survive, revenge, fight, and live the life she deserves? __________________________ "The south is owned by Claude, the north by Jack. And both want you!" "This is your last chance to escape Flora! Otherwise, you will be mine forever!" "I came searching for you. And no one can take you away from me, my babydoll. You can run, but never hide" "I will drink the blo*d of him, who dares hurt a finger of my precious girl!" "I love you Flora. I love your tears, your cries, your laugh, your smiles. I adore everything about you. And tonight, I want you in my bed. I will print that silky body of yours, and make you my bride"

The night Alpha Kieran Steele turned down Aria Blackwood as his mate in front of the whole Crescent Moon Pack, she believed her life was ended. She spent three years establishing a new life as a renegade hunter, pursuing dangerous werewolves that pose a threat to human settlements, after being expelled and humiliated. She has vowed never again to participate in pack politics and is stronger and more deadly. However, Aria is forced to cooperate with the same pack that sent her away as a string of vicious killings shakes the supernatural society. Even worse, she is compelled to date Kieran, the guy whose rejection almost crushed her and who now maintains that their mate bond was never really severed. For the past three years, Kieran has been regretting his decision every day. He has seen his pack disintegrate from the inside out as a result of pressure from pack elders to turn down his "weak" mate in favor of a political alliance, and he still has nightmares about Aria's damaged eyes. He needs the one woman who has every reason to despise him now that the bodies are piling up and a rogue alpha is endangering all he has vowed to defend. Aria and Kieran must face the falsehoods that destroyed them and the fiery heat that still burns between them as they pursue a killer who appears to know every move they make. However, the adversary they are seeking has a perverse link to their history, and a scheme that will force them to choose between their emotions and their pack. Can two shattered souls create a link that is strong enough to withstand betrayal, violence, and the ultimate test of fate in a world where second chances are scarce and trust is a luxury they cannot afford?