Villains Sinister Smile Novels & Stories

She hated him for making her lie about how she loved him for the whole country to see. He suddenly smiled_a charming sweet smile that she had never seen on his face since she had worked with him. His usual smile always seemed sinister in a dark sort of way. They were also the occasional sadistic smirks that caused her panic. The ones she hated the most was the one he directed at his sister. It was always a sad smile like he was in pain to even smile at her. It made her pity him and she hated herself for that because he didn't deserve her pity. He was a monster!. They threw more questions at them and he answered everything, confidence oozing out of every pore of his being.

he said in a generous manner and did not look away. Even if Waverly had turned into ashes, she would never forget his face. He had a beautiful face unlike a villain's. He had a cunning smile that was able to make any girl go crazy. A mysterious yet powerful aura gave him an enchanting character. Once he is happy, he becomes a person that is respected and envied by plenty, even liked by elders. However, she knew of the vile nature under his facade, which was the complete opposite of his appearance. He was like a vixen who was good at bewitching others.

Immediately, he flashed a sinister smile at Gillian. A trail of chilla courses down Gillian's spine, causing her to shiver.

Just an empty void where she used to be, a silence that feels louder in moments like this. Across the hall, Savannah’s gaze finds mine, her lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. It’s a predator’s grin, full of malice and unspoken threats, and I know she’s savoring whatever game she’s planning to play. She’s always been like this—Victor’s perfect accomplice, his shadow, feeding off his scraps and doing his dirty work with flair. I don’t look away, but my stomach tightens under the weight of her stare.

"You know who I am" ~ I had to fight the urge of hitting Sorin with great difficulty. His vampiric eyes and fangs were still distinct, he reeked of fresh blood, and it irritates me to the core. "You were having a feast somewhere while I was out fighting for us?" I challenged him at last. "Did you want to go back to prison so bad?" His sinister smile was all it takes to make him the kind of a bad guy that he was. “I know that nothing can ever harm me, I have you, didn't I”

The heat prickled on my skin. Kamari drew another arrow and aimed it at his heart. He stopped screaming the moment the weapon pierced him and he fell to the ground. Dead. “The coast is clear,” Halle said, blood on the side of her lips as she pulled back her claws. She was a shapeshifter. “For now,” Kamari stated, gesturing towards the throne. “You said you had an idea?” Right! I rushed over and knelt beside the throne. My hands studied the diamond combinations I had seen earlier.

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "W

I asked, keeping my voice low, tight, controlled, but every word was laced with the sharp edge of danger. She smiled then. A slow, calculating smile that made my stomach twist. Not playful. Not innocent. It was the kind of smile villains wore in movies right before they made the room explode. “What is Velma doing in your office?” she asked, tilting her head, eyes gleaming with malicious curiosity.

And behind her — *behind* the woman who is supposed to be me, in the dark of the obsidian where the reflection has nothing else to reflect — another face is there. Smaller. Fainter. The way a face is in a window when the light inside the room is wrong. A woman. Silver-haired. Pale-scaled at the edges where she has scales at all. Beautiful in the way a coiled thing is beautiful. Older than anyone who should still have a face. She is looking at me through the obsidian the way an older sister looks at a younger one she has been waiting to meet for a very long time. She lifts a small, pale hand. She gives me a small fond wave. Her smile is the kind of smile a fond elder gives a child she has hel

Then a slow, sinister smile touched her lips. “Let her take my fall.”