Villainesses Have More Fun

Nach fünf Jahren Ehe mit Dante Moretti, dem Don des Chicago Outfit, wusste die gesamte Unterwelt, dass er mich mehr liebte als sein eigenes Leben. Er hatte sich eine Geige tätowieren lassen – für mich – direkt neben seinem Familienwappen. Ein Symbol der Treue, das niemals ausgelöscht werden konnte. Bis ich das Foto von seiner Geliebten bekam. Eine Barkeeperin, nackt in seinen Armen ausgestreckt, ihre Haut gezeichnet von den dunklen Spuren von hartem Sex. Sie hatte ihren Namen direkt neben der Geige gekritzelt, die er sich für mich hatte stechen lassen. Und mein Mann hatte es zugelassen. „Dante sagt, nur wenn er in mir ist, fühlt er sich noch wie ein Mann. Du kannst ihn doch gar nicht mehr erregen, oder, süße Alessia? Vielleicht ist es an der Zeit, beiseitezutreten.“ Ich antwortete nicht. Ich tätigte nur einen einzigen Anruf. „Ich brauche eine neue Identität. Und ein Flugticket – raus hier.“

On the day of my 30th birthday, my CEO wife, Sabrina Langford, leaves hurriedly at 3:00 am. She claims that there's something urgent going on at the company and that she won't be home the whole day. Later on, Timothy Cross, the low-income university student that Sabrina has been sponsoring, updates his social media feed. In the photo, I see Sabrina standing at the side of the road in a bikini. Two big apples are balanced on her 36D bust. The caption of the photo is, "The beautiful and hot CEO has personally come over to my house to help me sell the homegrown apples. You'll regret it if you don't buy these apples from me!" My brows are drawn into a frown immediately. When I call Sabrina, the call goes through rather quickly. "I told you I'm very busy at the company right now. If you disturb me again, I'm not going to forgive you this easily!" After that, Sabrina ends the call. But right before the call gets cut off, I can hear a car honking in her background. I'm not mad at her at all. She likes helping others to sell fruits, right? I might as well lend her a helping hand. So, I share the social media post to the company's group chat. The message I've drafted is, "Does anyone here want a batch of rotten apples? I'll even throw in a second-hand wife for free."

The night before my engagement, I saw Leo Vitaly in a naked embrace with my best friend, Sophia, at the villa. I did not cry or create a scene. Instead, I went crazy as I slept with three of his best buddies. I left evidence of our lovemaking on the wooden desk of his office, condoms in the passenger seat of his car, and a leather whip in his private wine cellar. All of this was left behind on purpose to tell him what I did. When Leo found out about it, all he did was put out the cigar in his hand and made a group call to his buddies. "You've all slept with her? What did she taste like?" Taunting laughter was heard from the other end of the call. "She's pretty flexible in bed." "Not bad, but she needs to be more adventurous in bed. The minor celebrities I sleep with are better than she is." "Haven't you given her a taste before by giving her a good lesson, Leo? She's too tight down there." My meticulously planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. Leo had not cared at all. That night, I broke down. Leo sent me to the sanatorium after that. He 'treated' me there for an entire year.

Kylie Cooper was Jonathan Sinclair's lover for three years. After they broke up, she became his executive assistant. Jonathan treated her coldly and mocked her with sarcasm. Kylie said, "You used me as a stand-in before. Now that she's back, please let me go." However, Jonathan was confused. "A stand-in? I've only ever loved you..."

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

"I love fantasies. Impossible, only imaginable fantasies. The ones that would take me beyond and beyond my monotonous life. To other worlds. But this, isn't going to end well," I was saying to myself while lying down with closed eyes and recurring thoughts, starring at the bluest skies and the brightest stars. This city leaves me gawking at its beauty and at the same time allures me to its darkest mysteries. As I was running to find the only thing that could push me out of this fantastical realm, the clustered thoughts in my mind hits me hard everyday, leaving me sleepless and clueless. "You were at that place at that time. It may or may not be desirable. Fate, maybe. But, it's you," the familiar woman's voice kept repeating inside my head. "Begin with what you know and dig the unknown," the man I loved the most said, leaving me chase the knowns inside my scrambled mind. I was going after every single possible hint to take myself away from the life I've always wished to live. "I don't want this. Not for me. Not for my family," I falsely admit to myself, still secretly enjoying every moment of it. She, Idaliah Bristor seems to have a flamboyant life which takes a mysterious turn when she enters the unmapped city of BcHaven. Let's walk and roll with her as she says, "Whatever it may take, I'm giving it a go". Etymology: GEMICIDE - • Gem- The Gem Team • cide - Killing/Sacrificing 'Gemicide', the term I coined means that the Gem Girls without any hesitation is ready to sacrifice themselves or get killed to save their city.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ Warning ? ? ? this books consist of different erotica short stories, they are not long stories, and also 18+ content ahead, if you're below 18 please refrain from reading You think I care about titles?” he asked, stepping even closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Do you think that matters to me?” “It should,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “It matters to me.” He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" “Because,” I said quickly, searching for the right words. “Because people like me... we don’t belong with people like you. You’re... you’re powerful, and I’m—” “Beautiful,” he cut me off, his voice firm. I froze, my words dying on my lips. “What?” I whispered. “You’re beautiful, Sophia,” he said again, his tone softer this time. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice it. You think being a maid defines you, but it doesn’t. Not to me.”

Vera was the Alpha king's daughter. She was famous for rejecting the throne to make her own identity. But no one knew that she married her mate, Fred Clinton— An average Alpha, and dedicated 7 years of her life to help him. That's not all, she also put her wolf to sleep and introduced herself as a human so he wouldn't feel bad about having a stronger mate. She thought life was good. She thought she had the best husband and son. However, on the sports day event of her son, her heart bottomed out to see him and her husband doting on his PA, a nineteen year old girl pretending to be cute. When she confronted them, their words shattered her heart. "Mommy, there's no need for you to overreact okay! Aunt Tory here was doing what you were supposed to do— Taking care of us. Stop throwing a tantrum and let us enjoy the movie." Those were her son's words when she yelled at them. "Vera, I can't deny my feelings for Tory. She pulls me in like a magnet. Many Alphas have women beside their Lunas. Why are you so bitter about it? Accept her or the doors are behind you. It's your choice." "You want that Vixen? Fine, I'll leave you both to be with her. Enjoy your lives." Heartbroken, Verena left them. She revived her wolf and decided to pick up where she left 7 years ago— To make her own identity. But when she meets a certain Alpha billionaire on the way, her life is not the same.

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."