Scarlet Overkill Novels & Stories

I mean now I understand why she fled immediately she saw him shirtless but anyone could have a similar scar, right? "Something doesn't add up Nicole, my brother never had a tattoo, let alone a bloody one or dagger. The scars might just be a coincidence and nothing more, we lost our parent almost the same period and he couldn't have done something like this, there has to be some type of mix up." I stated. I just got my brother back, he is just beginning to have a stable life and now this? It's really not fair and I believe it's a mistake, he couldn't have done something this terrible, robbing and rapping a young lady, why?

"Anyway, as I was saying, I'm afraid I have to send you home for now. Without your costumes, you can't join the taping today. The dress needed for your scene is missing, and for the crew to remake it, it will take a day or so." Charity felt the blow of his words, though she kept her expression neutral. A delay. Another obstacle. Was this Violet's doing? Or Samuel's own sabotage? "But I can help," Samuel continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "I can contact some people I know. Though... I hope you consider shifting from 1 Entertainment since they seem to be unable to help you at all." There it is. Charity saw the trap clearly now. He wanted her under his control, away from

I was a stickler for rules. When I was in elementary school, we were supposed to vote for class president, but the teacher simply appointed the principal's daughter instead. Hence, I followed the school rule that whoever received the most votes would win and brought all 42 students to the principal's office to hold a proper vote. After I started working, my boss handed me a 1,500-dollar invoice and told me to claim 15,000 dollars in expenses. I told him that wasn't allowed under company policy, but he said that, in this company, the boss' word was the only rule that mattered. "You need to learn to be flexible," he claimed. "Otherwise, the company may as well replace you with someone more obe

Dex and Elian regarded the newcomers coldly. Especially their leader, who was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a thick ginger beard and fiery red hair tied back in a knot. A nasty scar ran through his left eyebrow, giving him a permanently pissed-off look. Dex’s hand hovered near his holster, and Elian’s finger was already itching on the trigger. He was still hoping to get more kills anyways. “You took something that belongs to us. Where is it?” The leader asked, his deep and loud voice ringing through the warehouse.

They fought tooth and nail as if it was some type of morbid dance between two opposite forces until eventually overcoming what used to stand in front: they defeated them again…or so thought those remaining few who chose life over death. Still panting heavily amid the ruins left behind due devastation caused by Miss Bulwark (*as referred lovingly by Lovato*), both daredevils embraced at last after such intense battle; relieved - although bruised & battered (mostly mentally!)-that also no harm had come upon their little brave soul known as 'Scarlett'. One final thing remained however: The showstopper itself…. A fiery explosion occurred right then when two hearts collide during an affectionate

Scarlet's ridiculous voice boomed in the room, making Alpha Killian and I snap our gaze to her. I would have asked him to keep hitting me, but I couldn’t because it was a shameful act. Alpha Killian, shocked, pulled out immediately, our breaths coming out in short gasps. “Scarlet, what is wrong with you? What are you doing here?” Alpha Killian asked with a deep voice. “Why would I be happy you two are together? You should be fucking me and not her!” she let out, making me scoff as I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.

The fight was not just physical; it stirred a deep, primal rage within me, emotions I didn't realize I harbored. In the midst of our savage tussle, Scarlet's kick sent me crashing into a small table, scattering its contents—a smartphone, a handbag, and a small box, reminiscent of a cigarette case. Recognition sparked within me; it was the serum box given to me by Xander, a potential lifeline in this desperate moment. Distracted by the sight of the box, I was vulnerable. Scarlet seized the opportunity, pinning me down and pressing her hands against my throat. "Die, you bitch!" she hissed, her eyes blazing with hatred.

He knew the third step always made a loud squeak if you stepped on it, so he stepped right over it. He walked straight to the small office room at the end of the hall. He went inside, shut the door slowly, and pulled the curtains across the window. Then he turned on the small yellow lamp on his desk. The dim light showed his books, his desk, and the small wooden box in the corner. Julian put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a tiny silver key. He always kept this key hidden inside his watch so nobody could find it. He walked up to the wooden box. If that woman wanted to hurt them, she needed real proof.

Several of her fellow orphans were now prolific pioneers in science, law, engineering, business, and other niche fields, and they would never hesitate to help her or their fellow orphans if needed. Scarlet had long ago decided to leave a calling card to let her future targets know that she was coming for them. She found the psychological effects of it to be extremely effective in making her opponents react sloppily and with haste, whereas she worked with deliberate and effective methods, slowly cornering her prey until it was time for the killing blow. Her favorite method of accomplishing this was to take an item from the target’s business or home and place it on their desk, well cleaned and

Everything I do, every step I take, is all in a bid to make her smile; I need her, in a way I never thought I'd need someone ; My willpower must remain intact however; Never must I waver; Not even during those brief moments when she thinks I'm not looking, and I feel the hatred pouring off her in waves; Or when she cringes as I reach for her hand before deciding it's okay to trust me; It's not her fault though; I know that, and I love her for trying to make me feel loved; But I am scarred by her resentment; The curse I can never lift. "Having fun?"