The Villainess Reverse Hourglass Novels & Stories

Perhaps it was due to her instincts as the villainess of the story, but from the moment she saw this woman, she hated her from the bottom of her heart. She had a face that was completely different from hers. Meanwhile, the model husband in other people’s eyes and the person who once loved her the most was holding this woman’s hand and even hugging her while working. They acted as if no one else existed. They interacted with such intimacy that it seemed as if they had been together for years, even though a year ago, my father had badmouthed this woman with her in the middle of the night. They had both believed that this was a manipulative witch who was highly skilled in pretending to be innoc

Laura and Merri gasped, it was the reaction I was waiting for. “Then the treasure that he has collected at the end of the underground tunnel exit, will be taken by me. Hohoho, so Laura, you don't have to pick up the rest of the treasures." Clap. Clap. Clap. “Milady, I just realized you have the talent to be a classy villain.” “Well, I'm a villainess who wants to make baby first revenge later, so my cunning act only surfaced recently after I got pregnant. Just like I did to you, Laura. If you mess with me again, it won't be hard to destroy you. You learned your lesson, right?”

To the right of Zark was Keil, which wore a beautiful white silk dress with edges in golden threads, on her neck was a necklace with celtic line design, while her hands were covered with delicate gloves White Next to Keil was Horus with his highlighted golden armor in the shape of Humanoid Ave Rapaz, the golden wings that should possess the armor of him were at this time hidden. Then Charlotte Blackwood was, the general guarding the clock tower, which wore an elegant tuxedo for women, among the GENERAL CHARLOTTE was the specialist in Stealth, Infiltration and Collection of Information, along with the Specialist in Survel Attacks and Murder . And finally he was Marishka.

Beside him materialized an enigmatic creature, an entity whose form was predominantly an hour-glass-shaped shadow but intermittently glinted with a disquieting crimson—a woman’s hair, seemingly suspended and swaying in the air. This spectral presence reclined against Victor’s shoulder, her slender fingers delicately exploring the contours of his form with an unsettling intimacy. Finally, the demon to whom he was irrevocably bound emerged—a malevolent entity capable of infiltrating a seer's visions—the succubus Saoirse which only exists in the shadows.

“I’m not a hero.” “I’m the villain remember,” he reminded me with a grin. “All good villains know how to identify heroes.” He turned his attention to the vine, and the plant pulled back, the vines withering, the flowers and leaves falling, until there was nothing but the faintest shadow on the stone to indicate that it had ever existed at all.

It was her voice, It was always her voice, But now it echoed like something trapped behind glass cracked, distorted, hungry. “Hello, me.” “Let’s decide who gets to wear the ending.” Liolai stepped down from the throne of the mirror-Nightwind, She didn’t walk, She glided, as if the world beneath her rearranged itself to keep her aloft, Everything about her was almost-Liora. The same eyes, The same flame in her palms, But it burned inward, Consuming her. Feeding on her, She wore the Hollow Crown in reverse spines facing in, bleeding into her scalp like barbed roots.

Through the slit window stars burned, merciless and clear. She drew the nightshade vial from her boot, rolling it between trembling fingers. *One drop can still a breath. One vial can shift a board of kings.* Yet vengeance felt distant as the moon. Instead, she uncorked it, poured a single drop onto the collar’s hinge. Metal hissed, corroding. She smiled faintly—*small steps, little star.* A low growl sounded—the shaggy hound squeezed through the bars, curling at her side like before. She rested her head against his fur.

His aunt, Lady Valeska Maelis, matriarch of House Maelis and his father’s sister, regarded him with cool detachment. She wore a gown of midnight silk that seemed to absorb the light around it, making the silver thread embroidery along its edges appear to float in darkness. Her hair, the same pale lilac as Mavros's own, was arranged in an elaborate series of braids that coiled around her head like a crown, each adorned with tiny silver beads that clinked softly as she moved. At her throat, a short necklace of polished obsidian glinted, and on her fingers, rings of office for each of the guilds under Maelis control caught the light. Mavros hesitated, weighing his options. Lying to Lady Maelis

He looks exactly like the photos in the Vane archives—handsome, ruthless, and entirely devoid of "Lagos-grit." Beside him stands a woman who makes my heart stop. She is a "Mirror-Clone" of me, but she isn't a "Lead-Bender." She is a "Mercury-Witch," her hands dripping with the liquid-starlight of the Auditors. "Hello, Zora," Silas Vane says, checking his platinum watch as if he has a lunch meeting in ten minutes. "You’ve made a mess of my investment. I think it’s time we discuss the Inheritance Tax."