Woman Scorned Movies Novels & Stories

LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED . "Oh shit, did we walk in on a lover's quarrel?"

Grey. It was the same scenario, the same feeling that churned in my gut every time I thought about women. they were all the same! Give them little attention and they would want to ruin you completely. “Get out!” I snapped, every ounce of my being desperate to rid myself of her. My disgust for her grew with each passing second. She took a hesitant step backward, her hands trembling. “Please… you have to believe me,” she pleaded. I didn’t want to hear it. She had to go.

I looked around trying to figure out what was going on, when another figure moved from the distance. A woman approached us. She drifted toward us almost as though she walked on air. Unlike the man in front of us, this woman actually looked rather nice. She looked like your classic grandmother. She had grey frizzy hair and round spectacles. She was rather short and wore all black. The woman temporarily distracted me from Wynter's cries of pain. "Please stop! We'll tell you what you want to know. Just don't hurt her!" I begged. "SILENCE!" The woman screamed at me.

With trembling fingers, I tapped the article. The words hit me like punches. They called me a gold digger. A social climber. A manipulative slut who had supposedly dumped one brother for the richer one. They painted me like some heartless opportunist — a woman who had “snared” Andrew for money and status. And then there were the pictures. Old photos of me and Matthew — one of us laughing together at a café, another of his hand casually on my waist. The comments beneath were brutal. She’s disgusting.

Layla scrambled back in terror, but it was too late. My claws ripped her dress, revealing the pale skin of her back. It was smooth. Flawless. There was no scar. And Myrna... Myrna had a hideous scar running from her left shoulder to her right hip. The scar I had touched a thousand times, but never once asked where it came from. "Moon Goddess," I collapsed. "What have I done?" "You regret it now?" Layla sat on the floor, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "It's too late, Clark. It's far too late."

'' inquired Grace, her brows furrowed. ''To make some popcorn for us!'' Diane exclaimed as she exited the meeting room. ''What movie would you ladies like to watch?" Asked Trevor, remote control in hand, as he turned on the television. He browsed through the channels and decided on N*****x. ''I want to watch a horror movie...'' Grace declared, and Trevor winced at her words. ''What's the matter? Are you scared? You're so big, yet such a coward!'' The room erupted in laughter when Trevor, ignoring her, selected a romantic comedy instead.

'What an annoying b*tch' "Mr. Ash is ready to see you." She repeated with a look of disdain on her face. 'I do wish this bimbo fails' Scar, having a rebellious personality, noticed the glares being directed to her and she wondered if she had offended the woman before her in any way. Or was it women’s instincts of jealousy? 'Ha! What a bimbo to get jealous so easily, does she think I came here for seduction? I mean look at what she’s wearing. Compared to mine, I’m so f*cking decent!'

With a laugh, Bob replied, "Let us know when the Chasey Lain film festival is on, and we'll be there!" They all laughed, and then Betty said, "That was The Original Wicked Woman you were watching the other night, wasn't it?" Surprised, Bob said, "You caught that from a two-inch-wide glimpse? Did you anchor out there?" Betty laughed, and said, "We've watched it so many times, I think we know every scene by heart. That part when she's with Joan of Arc has to be one of the hottest girl-girl scenes, ever filmed!"

I felt the need to clarify. "In this industry, Charlotte, there's no difference," Scarlett said, her pen tapping a rhythmic, annoying beat against her desk. "If you want to keep the Dalton movie, you have to be 'Charlotte Watson: The Devoted Mother and Wife.' Not 'Charlotte Watson: The Woman in the Middle of a Scandalous Triangle.'" "Is he there?" Grayson asked, his eyes searching the background of my video feed even if all that was behind me was the couch I was sitting on. "Alexander. Is he in the apartment?"

I had expected her to react to my words, but to react this strongly—I was quite shocked at how affected she seemed. Elora, on the other hand, was seething. Her glare told a thousand more words than she could say. She was scared. She was angry, but she was scared. Scared of a scar she must be hiding. Her reaction was borne from this fear. It makes me wonder just how a princess would be so deeply scarred that it plagued her even until now. "You are dismissed," I said calmly. "Not yet," she retorted. "Did you bring a new woman into the Pack?"