The Tragedy Of Villainess นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Still, I went on, "My best friend and my husband had sex in my grandfather-in-law's casket on the day of his burial. Then, after I exposed them, my mother-in-law and these two tried to twist the narrative and paint me as the villain. "I am the victim here. I've suffered two betrayals from the people closest to me. This is the proof." I raised the phone. "They planned this themselves. I believe even my grandfather's spirit can see that I'm innocent. And I have all of you as witnesses." I turned to Dulce and finished, "Is there any doubt left?" Vincent suddenly sat up in the coffin. "Fuck you, bitch! Victim my ass! You caused this too!" he bellowed. "Yes, I'm cheating with Stephanie. So what?!

He was brought to his knees, stripped of his title and his dignity. Lily was dragged from her chair, her pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. By twisting the truth, I had ensured they would share the same fate—not as enemies, but as co-conspirators. As they were dragged toward the dungeons, Gabriel stepped to my side, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back. "You played a dangerous game, Vanessa," he whispered, watching our enemies disappear into the dark corridor. "I didn't play a game, Gabriel," I replied, looking up at him. "I ended one.”

dissolves into nothing. This is what I wanted. In my past life, I was a victim. I was the pathetic, low-ranking omega who got backhanded into a concrete pillar and left to rot on a narrow cot in the infirmary while Willow sat softly in the sun, protected and adored. I hated Asher for his cruelty, but I hated Willow more. I hated her gentle smile, her soft voice, her fake innocence that kept everyone blind to the rot beneath it. I am a villainess. I have always known what I am. I didn't come back to this second life to be a hero, or to save the weak, or to live a quiet, peaceful life in the lower ranks.

Every happy moment was acting performed for an audience of one. But as I sat there in the hallway, broken and bleeding and marked for death, something hard formed inside me. Something that felt like steel made in fire. I wasn't the same woman who came to this apartment three years ago as a grateful bride. That woman had been innocent, trusting, desperate for love. This woman— who bled herself weak for his profit, who was tricked into believing her own sister cared—this woman was dangerous. Because she had nothing left to lose except her own life. And she had already proven she was willing to give that up for people who didn't deserve it.

She was not the dignified widow being harassed, she was the villain being unmasked. Valerie’s dirty look had seared through her, but the neighbors’ silent, collective judgment utterly annihilated her. Remembering her son, her final, desperate card to play, had not been a trump, but a confession. In claiming him, she had only solidified their belief in her monstrosity.

Julian Hart had me move into his basement so he could trample on my dignity whenever he pleased. What he didn’t know was that I had transmigrated from the real world into the novel. When Julian insulted me, I endured it without talking back. When he slapped me, I licked his palm. When his first love stepped on me with her high heel to assert her dominance, I told her that the scent of her perfume reached me before the pain did. A year later, Julian was so disgusted by me that he almost knelt down and begged me to keep my distance from them. But there was no way I was leaving. I hadn’t come to tear them apart. I had come to join them.

replied Levy, she knew no matter how cold and heartless it looked this was the truth. The world preyed on those who were weak, seeing their goodness and virtues as nothing but a weakness. This was the reason why people often said that villains were made not born and this was how they were made. Cordelia was not a villain in fact she was willing to lower her head because she thought that she was in the wrong but Levy was sure. One day that patience will snap and Cordelia —— would break. The more brighter and naive she was at the present, the more dark and twisted she will become if her breaking point was touched.

“Andrea knew what awaited him. A slow death, hours of brutal torture until he’d given up all his secrets. By provoking you, he died a quick death.” I regarded the bloody mess on the floor. “I doubt it was the painless end he’d hoped for.” “Not painless, no,” Felix said, following my gaze. “But fairly quick. Better than he deserved, if you ask me.” I leaned back against the wall, not sure where to go from here. My wife had betrayed me, admitted that she’d rather see me dead, and threatened to kill our baby, if it was even ours. My chest constricted until every breath was a struggle.

一 Caroline softened her voice, it was likely that she was also using the same suffering technique on Dona Cristina as she used on Felipe and possibly on Senhor Jacob. 一 Unfortunately not, Caroline. But I'll look for you, excuse me 一 She asked rudely, but before she did she turned to me and then smiled 一 See you later my dear 一 She smiled at me and only after that did she leave. There was hate in Caroline's eyes, she could fool heaven and saints but not me. I knew her type of girl, the shy and suffering when in fact her goal was to make other people's lives hell, the reality is that she was the only villain.

Plasmodyl was her first trial at producing a malaria drug, even any drug and the outcome had ended up disastrous. During the broadcast, her tears might have been fake but her sadness wasn't, for someone who never stepped a foot into the grounds of a university she had high hopes for the drug she produced but it had ended up killing people. She was deep into the book she was reading that she barely heard the door to the library open and when she did, she raised her head to catch the sight of her husband, she turned away. It had been days since that episode with his wife and they had successfully stayed out of each other's way.