The Villainess Flips The Script Novels & Stories

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?!

Let's see what the villain swaps then. [I can't wait to see her face when she finds out she scored a zero.] [Yeah, the villain ends up washing dishes at some diner and gets stuck with a guy way older than her.] Every single comment was waiting for my tragic ending. Sorry to disappoint. This time, things weren't going to play out the way they expected. Because what I wanted to swap was never her exam scores. I was after something much bigger.

For anything that felt like a loose thread she could pull. The afternoon light faded, painting the library in long shadows. Vivian Ashworth, the transmigrated soul in the villainess’s skin, hunched over ancient pages, no longer just a passive victim of the plot. The role of the villain had been thrust upon her, but perhaps, just perhaps, she could use its expected ruthlessness for a different purpose: uncovering the truth. The performance had begun, but beneath the surface, the investigation was underway. Her survival depended on playing the part while dismantling the script from within. The weight of the villain’s role was crushing, but within it, she was starting to find the sharp edges sh

I dropped my forehead to her collarbone and clung to her like I was seven again and scared of the thunder. “You’re not a bad person, Sunflower,” she said softly, her breath warming the top of my head. “You’re just hurting.” I shook my head, fat tears dripping off my chin. “But I am the villain in someone’s story.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. Her thumb gently brushed away a tear. “And sometimes,” she said, “the villain is just someone who didn’t know how to save herself.” My chest cracked open. Right there on the hardwood floor, I broke again, but this time, not from shame.

Duncan Hiddleston is submissive to all. “Now I know I don't care. It's a bit late... Villain still likes me, as usual, no matter how much I cover this can't change. If you swap out the villain for the female lead, you'll be dead, chasing after the rice." Phedra Elizabeth thought.

It was a grand hall fit for its name. After inspecting everything with satisfaction that we were on track for the event, I was on my way back home when I got a call. A name I never expected to see on my screen again, flashed on my screen. “Hello?” Against my better judgment, I took her call. I took her call wanting to know what she had to say to me. I didn’t think there were any words left for Lily and me to say to each other. The female lead had joined hands with the villain and had become nothing but a sub-villain.

Scared of what, I don’t really know. Without hesitations, I embraced her. I wrap my arms around her very tight and regardless of whether she tried to get rid of not, I will not let her slip in my grip. She doesn’t like me, I know, actually, she hated me. I am the villain that makes her every day worse. I’m a troublemaker to her and I make her really mad each day but… today, she doesn’t have to hate me, she can treat me as a friend who genuinely wants to comfort her, help her, and to sympathize with her.

“He did this! Damien Vance! And her—Flora Hawthorne! She was part of it from the beginning!” The agents exchange glances but say nothing. Victoria's voice rises, teetering between fury and desperation. “You’ll see! You’ll all see! I’m not the villain here!” She digs her heels in as they drag her toward the elevator, marble slick beneath her designer shoes. Her dignity slips with every struggling step. The cameras capture it all. The last image of Victoria Hale broadcast to the world: a woman screaming, smeared mascara tracking down her face, shackled and defeated.

Her eyes were sharp and terrifyingly intense as she stared at me and Alistair. My mouth fell open at this bizarre situation. But I recognized her at a glance. Holy shit! She's my fellow villainess, Primrose Stella Antebellum, and my brother's fiance. She's truly a beauty, but unlike Bella, her sharp gaze and cold expression makes her looked pretty scary. The author seemed to want to make it obvious that she's a villainess. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't notice she already stood in front of us, and suddenly she pulled me up from my seat, separating me from Alistair.

What he shared with Noemi was nothing but platonic love. A great love story always needs a villainess to make it burn. And that villainess was me. Gianna Milano. The plot called for me to discover the emotional affair and go to war against Noemi: petty cruelty, jealous rages, one humiliation after another, all of it making Noemi shine brighter by contrast. Renato's contempt for me would grow until he handed me the divorce papers himself. Then I'd run to my father, try to use the family to tear them apart.