Novel & Cerita Sharply Synonym

"Bitch, fake, slag two-faced, I guess I could use slut as well, maybe whore-" Stacy gasped and stalked up to Brooklyn. "What did you say?" "I called you a bitch, fake, slag-" Stacy raised her hand and Brooklyn arched an eyebrow. "I don't think it would be very wise to slap me in front of the whole school," Brooklyn said. "Unless you want to get expelled, then be my guest." Stacy's eyes flickered around the hall and glared when she saw everyone looking at them. She gulped slightly when she caught Harry's cold, harsh look and she lowered her hand. "Watch your back, bitch!" Stacy spat and walked off.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that they had both entered the room. Justin closed the door and that's when I realized he was shirtless and didn't even have a gash. "What happened to your stab wound?" I croaked out. He laughed bitterly as he looked down at me. "Babygirl I've been shot and stabbed with real knifes multiple times. A piece of glass can't hurt me." He explained as he looked down at my body as if it were a piece of meat. "But you were bleeding you should at least have a scar." I said in confusion.

SOMEONE'S POINT OF VIEW I was reading today's newspaper when I saw some very interesting news written in it. 'The Sharp Shooter: The Oracle's Pride' was written in bold letters. I smirked at the sight of the picture attached to it. A beautiful lady with fiery red long hair who is holding a very exquisite gun in her hands. She is aiming at the target with her pair of keen silver eyes. It makes one person lose their mind with a quick glance at this picture, and I must admit that I am no exception.

Sharon's smile was cold, sharp, and laced with irony. "Thomas," she said, "to me, you were nothing more than a knife in my hand—a tool to help me rise. But you're far too sharp. You can hurt others, and you can easily hurt yourself. So… I have to let you go." Thomas stared at her. "Sharon, I'm not someone you can take or discard at will." Sharon's gaze remained steady. "No, Thomas. It's you who wants too much."

Victor’s footsteps crunched against the stones as he approached the house, each step careful and measured. His sharp instincts, improved over years of handling complex situations, had taken over. Inside the house, Olivia’s chest tightens with fear as Leo pressed the knife more firmly against her throat. His grip was unyielding, and she could feel the blade’s cold edge grazing her skin. “Who is it?” Leo hissed. His eyes darted back and forth between her and the window, calculating his next move.