The Perfect Victim Book Novels & Stories

Glancing at the neat envelope on her desk, Ava Sinclair sees her name crisply and coldly etched in silver on the front. Roman Devereux, the client she was supposed to meet, was profiled inside. A ricocheted bullet has been sending the name whizzing through Manhattan's elite circles. Some saw him as a scapegoat, while others saw him as a criminal genius accused of stealing secrets from companies. Both of those things were out of Ava's time.

That was her… really her in the kitchen, looking shady. How? She hadn’t done that… she couldn’t have done it. The doctor had told her symptoms would include amnesia, but she couldn’t have actually gone ahead to poison Selena. Her slight hesitation gave her attackers all the evidence they needed, and they pounced on her with so much vigor. “If you let my baby die, I will make sure you live to regret the rest of your miserable life,” Alfred said to her. She looked into his face, barely recognizing the man she had known for almost five years.

"But Nico agrees. He said it just... fits my vibe better. He texted me last night. Said he's never met a girl with taste like mine." The whole library could feel the tension. Students around us exchanged knowing glances. "Here we go again," Sarah muttered. "Bianca is such a good friend. She always shows Viviana what these guys are really like," Emma added. "Exactly," Jessica nodded. "If Bianca didn't sacrifice herself to test them, Viviana would be wrapped around some playboy's little finger." My nails left crescent moons in my palms. I almost drew blood. Bianca tilted her head, her eyes full of fake pity.

She grinned. Reluctantly, Zion and Amanda picked up their silverware, continuing to eat even though their appetites had diminished. They didn't want to hurt Ayva, who had put so much effort into preparing the meal. As they ate, Ayva decided to change the topic, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. "So, a few days ago, I came across something interesting online," she began, taking a sip of her orange juice. "There was this woman who caught her husband in bed with his mistress, and she was seeking advice on how to get back at him." Ayva watched Zion and Amanda closely, noticing their shocked and uncomfortable expressions. The room seemed to grow colder as their guilt and surprise became apparent.

“A secret affair, a younger, volatile lover. Maybe he wanted more, she wanted out. Things get heated. He snaps, strangles her, stages a drowning. Panics and leaves.” “Or,” Omondi mused, staring down the empty corridor, “the husband found out. That is a classic crime of passion. But the lack of rage in the scene… the neatness. That feels calculated. Like a message.” He turned to Auma. “First, we find Adrian Vale. He’s our best link. Then, we have the unpleasant task of informing the husband that his wife is dead, and she wasn’t alone.” Auma nodded, her expression grim. “Imagine that knock on the door. Your world ends, and then you find out it was already broken. Some things are just rotten. I

The hacker would come for him. Mark would disappear into a black bag, and I would never have to look at his face again. It was tempting. It was so incredibly tempting to let a monster eat a monster. But then, my hand froze. No, I thought, pulling my hand back from the keyboard. He is my prey and my prey alone. If Adrian kills him, it would be quick and would be messy. Mark would die thinking he was just unlucky, a victim of a bad deal. He wouldn't know it was me. He wouldn't know that Elara Vance had come back from the dead to strip him of everything he loved.

“I know the three victims, the first one served me a coffee at Starbucks, the brunette is the cashier, and the third— I don't know her or anything about her, but… The day when the first body was discovered, I was on my way to the book store, and I was eavesdropping when I overheard her and her friends' conversation, but she caught me and called me out,” “Eve isn't killing random people, the victims were chosen,” I mumbled, staring at the pictures “But why?” “To send a message, that the next time it might be someone closer to you,” “Mel— and William,” she cried out.

“You don't get to define my safety.” “I’m not defining it,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m observing the cracks in it. Why do you think you chose him, Alessa? Because he’s good? Or because he’s the only one who looked at you and didn't see the fire?” My breath caught. “You don't study people like this unless you intend to break them.” “I don’t want to break you,” Victor said, and for the first time, he sounded terrifyingly honest. “I want to redirect the flame. You’re not a prize to be taken. You’re an inevitability.”

It was so much different from this horror but I became a victim. He looked at me sobbing helplessly and stripped before him and he smirked wickedly. “Spread your legs and pleasure yourself." "I… I can't." My voice cracked. I had cried so much that my voice was sagged. In an instant, he raised my head with the tip of his gun. Its coldness frightened me. "I'm easily irritated, Pretty face. SO PLEASURE YOURSELF NOW." --- Part One: Knots & Tie. ‘I am a Victim.’

“Enough!! Why is he still in power? Why do people worship him while I’m being blamed? For Christ’s sake, I’m the victim.” “And so was he. Vincenzo was also a victim of pressure, of expected perfection, of being a good image. What does it mean he’s good? He’s not. But at least he’s not a pedophile, he’s not a human trafficker, he’s not a lunatic like you!”