Villainess Dress Novels & Stories

“You know what kind of vibe I need. I want to say, ‘I’m hot, but professional. I’m elegant, but not too desperate. I’m forced to be here but still not completely miserable.’” “So… you want a dress that says, ‘help me, I’m being held hostage at a gala?’” Greta said, deadpan. “Yes! Exactly that vibe!” She sighed and got up, pulling a black satin gown off the rack. “Try this.” I held it up. It had a high slit, low back, and sparkled faintly under the lights. Dangerous. Sophisticated. Definitely not Elena-coded. “This screams ‘femme fatale’, not 'exhausted assistant forced to be her devil boss's arm candy'.”

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.

" Looked at how fair and smooth her skin it!" " She such an angel! Am pretty sure that the crown prince wouldn't be able to take his eyes of her!" Taika really wanted to roll her eyes at the compliment the set of maids were throwing to her; Despite they were the same people who bullied and insult the previous villainess. She stared at the mirror and couldn't help but admit that the villainess indeed looked gorgeous and beautiful in the sliver glown. The compliment were getting too much that she had to drive the maids out of her room change to her usually light green glown and sit on the swing next to her window.

She glared at him. Raisel walked into the large room, dressed in a violet dress with puffy sleeves at the wrist. It had a drawstring at the back. It was a simple but beautiful dress. Her hair was braided into two, a ribbon at each end of the long braid. She looked every bit like the simple village girl. She was focused entirely on the dress, she didn’t know when she bumped into Dragomir. “Oww!” “Why can’t you look wh…”, he stared at her a little too longer than was proper, “You look…”

Victoria said smiling Cass was shocked, One of the richest women in fashion will be waiting on her. "There is no need, the other lady is doing a good job" Cass said uncomfortably from the special care "I wouldn't want to make Mr. Wells angry, I always style his women. uhm girlfriends personally" Victoria said Three of the staff came in with different trollies filled with the most colorful array of clothes "We brought the most expensive dresses in different colors" One of the staff said Cass perused the items but a particular dress caught her attention; It was a blush-colored dress. The dress was crafted from a luxurious silk fabric that draped gracefully, creating gentle ripples and cascadin

Michelle’s head tilted to the side as he studied her. “Hold it up again.” He lifted the choker of gold crose buds to her throat. The dress Rujan had chosen and Michelle had brought was chili pepper red and styled for an ethereal goddess. It has deep V-cut that highlighted her bountiful cleavage, had ruching to the hip, and then split at her right upper thigh all the way down her leg. There was no back to speak of, aside from a slender strip of rhinestones that connected both sides to keep the front from falling off. Otherwise, the back was bared to just above the crack of her buttocks in a racy V-cut.

Isabella positioned herself in front of her bedroom's full-length mirror, her gown's smooth, silky fabric flowing down her body like liquid midnight. She fiddled with the neckline, her fingers grazing the fine embroidery at the corners. This wasn't just any old dress. It was armour, carefully selected to leave a lasting impression, to disappear into the environment she was going to enter, to stand out just enough to let everyone know she was a formidable opponent.

There was no card. Kaelen took it, his jaw tightening. He sliced the ribbon with a claw that emerged and retracted in a blink. Inside lay a dress. It was a work of art and a calculated insult. Deep crimson, the color of fresh blood, it was daringly cut, designed to draw every eye and leave little to the imagination. It was Vorian’s opening move—a message that he already saw her as a object, a prize, a piece of flesh. I recoiled instinctively. “I’m not wearing that.”

For the past year I’d found the hidden invitations, the faint scent of expensive perfume on his collars, the way he came home with a satisfied, distant look in his eyes. Tonight, I wasn’t going to be the perfect, untouched wife anymore. I was going to become his fantasy. The gown I wore was pure sin — deep emerald velvet that clung to my full breasts and wide hips, with a plunging neckline that barely contained me and a high slit that flashed thigh with every step. A matching velvet mask covered the upper half of my face, adorned with delicate gold filigree and black feathers. My dark hair was pinned up, lips painted blood red. No one would recognize Isabella Vale tonight.

The stain of her blood might have been washed away, but it felt as though the memories and the experience itself still clung to the dress, unable to leave forever. Resolving not to let the bad memories tarnish my first taste of freedom, I pushed those gloomy thoughts aside. Instead I dug deeper into the vanity case and came up with a stunning purple dress. The dress had a halter neck, lilac coloured puff sleeves and lace frills at the wrist, complete with a diamond-studded bodice and an A-shaped skirt. It was modest and elegant at the same time. I stood to my feet and held it up for Lily's opinion. "What do you think of this, Lily?"