Novel & Cerita Villainous Black

Philip was surprised by his remark. While chatting, the two arrived at the old man’s room. As soon as he reached the door, Philip noticed black energy hovering in the room. Philip was extremely sensitive to this black energy. Although his level had been reduced to one star, his experience was not affected. More importantly, he had seen this black energy in the medical book in Verge Tower. It was called the Vile Black Cloud, an extremely strong voodoo poison. “Dad, I brought the doctor,” Preston yelled as he opened the door.

Just as the commoner wasn't born with a low status by committing a sin. So, it's really sickening how the rich abuse their power like that. "Nonsense," the baron huffed in anger. "Grab him, we need to teach him a lesson," he instructed one of his knights. I scrunch my nose in displeasure. I didn’t know why the dark sides of the world were unfolding right before my eyes. I’m not the female lead, I’m the villainess… Shouldn’t this kind of situation unfold only in front of the kind, positive, and meddlesome heroine?

It was Damon—but it wasn't him anymore. His jaw was unhinged, hanging at an unnatural, broken angle that allowed a thick, tar-like black fluid to seep down his chin and stain his bare chest. His veins weren't green or blue; they were thick, pulsing ropes of obsidian that crawled up his neck and spilled into his eyes, turning his sclera completely pitch-black. A pale, sickening violet flame flickered behind his pupils, dancing with a cold, mocking intelligence that did not belong to a pack wolf.

I moved closer to him and unlocked the metal locking his mouth then returned back to my seat letting the silence settle. “Who sent you?” My smile disappeared. He remained silent. “Wrong answer.” I slammed the crowbar into his hand, making a hole in it. “Argh,” he screamed out, then blood began to trail down his battered hands. “You ready to talk?”Still quiet. No problem. I like them difficult. I moved beside the wall where he was tied and flicked the switch. Then the real show began. He began screaming as electricity traveled down his body. Increasing the voltage to its highest level, his screams increased, and his skin began to change colors.

Dylan feigned a hurt expression and placed his palm over his heart. “What? Do you work with him?” Dominique questioned. Dylan smirked. He was enjoying the game, “Have you seen him?” “No, never.” Dominique gave a straight answer but a frown settled on his brows when Dylan let out a dark chuckle. “Well then hello to you. I am the psychopathic Mafia Lord you were talking about.” He asserted and flashed Dominique a small smile but that only ceased his heartbeat. “W-What? That’s not possible.” Dominique couldn’t embrace reality. He was ’The Black”.

Inside, the air was thick with the musk of sex, expensive sandalwood cologne, and the faint metallic tang of betrayal. Damien Blackwood — the man who had built an empire on ice-cold ruthlessness and whispered threats — stood at the window, shirt unbuttoned, silver threading his black hair like cracks in marble. At forty-five, he was still devastating: broad shoulders carved from years of disciplined power, sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and those bourbon-dark eyes that could strip a soul bare or command a boardroom into silence. He was no cartoon villain. He was worse — a man who had lost his wife young, raised Sophia alone, and buried every soft feeling under layers of control… until Ava

Orion stated. The name sent a chilling shiver through the room. Hassan Blackthorn was a legend—ruthless, completely disciplined, and the commander of the most feared military force in the werewolf world. He dressed in tailored black suits, ruled his empire with cold logic, and had zero interest in love or political marriages. “Blackthorn?” Cedric scoffed, throwing his hands up in despair. “He’s a goddamn monster! He hates the Ravenscar pack, yes, but he would never agree to a sudden alliance with us. He doesn't take sides in Council disputes.”

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.

I lean closer to the mirror, applying another coat of lipstick… bloodred and unapologetic. The color bleeds across my lips, transforming my mouth into something both beautiful and lethal. My eyes are rimmed with black, making my irises look almost supernatural in their intensity. Cold. Calculating. Unflinching. These are the eyes of a woman with nothing left to lose. The thought curls my lips into a smile that doesn't reach those eyes. I step back, assessing the final product. The world wants a villain? I'll give them one they'll never forget!

He later sat in the ward with me but was busy with his laptop. “Thank you. We could have gone home instead of stressing you like this.” “I didn’t say I’m stressed. I’m doing my job.” I stayed quiet. I felt the urge to ask him how I ended up following the wrong person last night. Lucian Blackwood and the other man don’t even look alike. The news came on about an illegal gambling den with drugs and thugs, the same place we came from. My life keeps getting more dangerous. I munched on the chips I was served. Orion Kade didn’t look concerned in any way.