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Fine, Make Me Your Villainess

Layla had always been a kind woman who went out of her way to make others happy and succeeded while sacrificing her own. She gave everything she had achieved all through her life to ensure the happiness of those she loved. But she never imagined that the individuals she had once made her world would be the one responsible for her demise. When her role ended, they tossed her aside as if she were nothing. While waiting for her death in that cold cell, all she could think of was revenge. Her ex-friend did came to see her, but rather to mock her. So overcome by hatred, she plunged her sharp hairpin into her ex-friend's heart. "Fine, make me your villainess". That's when her wish was heard as she woke up in her 11-year-old self's body. With a fresh start and a new existence, she will this time act like a real villain to achieve her dream and her revenge. _______________________________________ * This is a slow burn story. A lots of events will happen before she gets her ultimate revenge. *Upload Schedule : Monday, Wednesday and Friday ______________________________________ Connect With Me- Instagram ID- @ava_skylar95 Discord ID- Ava_Skyler#9266

Ava_Skyler · Histoire
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35 Chs

A New Life

"Henni, go bring some fresh water. She is sweating a lot. "

The palace felt strangely comfortable and cozy. Occasional gentle head pats and voices that were full of concern, it feels strange. She hasn't experienced such feelings like this in a long time.

It nearly reminds the girl of her past. A feeling that was so nostalgic. Where was she?

Layla opened her heavy eyelids gradually. Although her eyes begged her to sleep more, she had to find out. The familiar voices, a loving touch, was this heaven?

"Alright, I will bring it-. Oh my god! Layla! She woke up!" A high-pitched voice came from her side. "I have to tell others."

Then a hand came close to her face and touched her forehead. "It's still hot. You should sleep some more, Layla, dear."

Through her blurred vision she could the silhouette of someone from her past, it was just her imagination she thought but as her eyes adjusted to the surrounding her imagination turned into reality. She couldn't believe her eyes.

How could this possibly be true? She cried out, "Granny Jane?" with tears in her eyes. She extended her hands to touch the person as a way to see whether they were real or not. "Are you real?"

The woman looked surprised, then chuckled, "Of course I am silly. Now go back to bed. The fever's making you have strange dreams."

"Huh?" Layla gazed down at her hands that were stretching out towards the older woman. They appeared somehow different than normal. Her hands were small, like a child's. Little and thin, like how they used to look back in her earlier years.

Her eyes fell on the back of her forearm. A bruise, which looked a day old or so. This bruise was so real that it was hard to believe it was all inside her head. Were dreams always this realistic?

Her finger traced the reddish-purple skin; unknowingly, she pressed her finger deep into the wound. Ouch, it hurts.

Her hands stopped.

"Layla!" "Where are you going?"

Why were her hands small? Why does she have such wounds that he sustained long ago in the past? Why was Jane, who was supposed to have died a long time ago, still alive? A possible explanation would be a dream; then why does it hurt when she digs her finger into her skin?

The room that only existed in her memories looks so vivid, one could even mistake it for real life. It was as if she had returned to the past.

Her feet carried her to the corner of the room.

Everything was the same, including the flower vase, the books on the shelves, and also the girl who was staring back at Layla from the mirror that she stood in front of.

Her shaky hands touched the shiny mirror surface.

A girl with long, black hair dropped below her shoulder. A slender, malnourished frame with dull skin that had lost its glow. And those baby blue eyes she hated most.

It's her past eleven-year-old self.

With her other hand, she gently touched her cheeks. Her hands were trembling, her eyes wide from shock.

"Is everything alright, Layla, dear?" Jane, who was concerned about the child's strange behavior, inquired.

"Where is Mother, Jane?"

The woman's expression changed. Her eyes were filled with sympathy and pity for the little girl as her face sank. "Honey, your... your mother is dead. She died a few days ago."

Meaning it's been five days since her mother's death.

Jane approached Layla and knelt at the girl's level. She then wrapped Layla in a firm hug while gently rubbing her back in a comforting manner. "But don't worry. Chloe loved you dearly, honey. Though she is not with us anymore she will live on in our hearts forever," the woman said with a warm smile.

"Yeah, probably," Layla replied.

Layla lay on the familiar bed and gazed up at the ceiling. Jane had forced her to stay in bed and get some more rest. However, with the current circumstances she was in, she was unable to, no matter how hard she tries.

Layla had traveled back in time with the knowledge of her future, her terrible fate.

If she recalls properly, it is the fifth day since she first fell sick. The shock of her mother's passing had left her ill. After that, things became worse...

She traced her reddish-purple bruise on her hand lightly, not digging her finger like she had done earlier, to not repeat the painful experience. After this bruising incident, her eleven-year-old self had gone into another shock and was unconscious for so many days. Her condition rapidly worsened. But no one batted an eye towards the sick daughter. She was left to fend for herself. She remembers Jane selling her jewelry to afford the treatment costs to cure her, even though they were not blood-related.

If she did come back to the past, then she can still change her future. If not a better future, then at least revenge.

Her past life flashed before her eyes. Her lover, everyone's betrayal, her sacrifices everything. A sharp pain shot through her body. She smiled scornfully at herself. How foolish was she to have believed them?

All she ever did was love them with all her heart. She had given up everything for them—her accomplishments, her free will, her whole life. Just to be left alone to die in that cold cell.

That jail cell She still remembers the darkness and the cold. Layla rubbed her hands together at the thought of that chilly palace. Layla, who was once glorified as a savior of the land, was given rotten food to eat inside the cell. Their endless lies and their manipulation still ring in her ears.

She can't believe they not just took everything she had worked so hard for her entire life, but also humiliated her in front of thousands of people. Going as far as distributing her hard-earned assets to her enemies. Even if she had escaped from her cell in the past, she would never have been able to live in a dignified way.

Did she just come back in time? If this is true, she will undoubtedly live her life to the fullest. And take her revenge against everyone who wronged her and especially Leo.

And for that to happen, she needed an effective and strong strategy. He can't depend on anyone, so she has to do it all herself.

She got out of her bed and peered out the window.

Her room was small, with little furniture. Her father gifted her this room, which had a lovely view of the east garden, as a gift to cheer her up after she became severely depressed because of her mother's deteriorating condition. At least that's what he wanted everyone to believe. In reality, this room was in the corner of the mansion, away from everyone's eyes. He didn't want anyone to find out about his daughter's existence.

Layla didn't like this room because of its small size, but she enjoyed the view outside through her window.

Waking up to blooming tulips and crimson roses was such a luxury. Her mother used to take care of the garden, and all of the flowers were her mother's favorites. But now it must be Mr. Warren, the gardener, who is maintaining the garden.

As she was taking in the beautiful view, immersed in nostalgia, her eyes caught someone.

A boy. His hair, which is dark brown, is being tousled by the wind. His dull eyes stared at the bright blue sky with a vacant look. His hands were in his pocket. His attire appeared to be expensive. He looked and behaved like an aristocrat, nothing less. And a face that showed a big resemblance to the master of this manor. It wasn't hard to tell who this was.

Ah, their father must have brought them over, she thought. It had, after all, been five days.

She eyed him up and down. He appears to be only thirteen years old. Even though he looked photogenic standing in the middle of blossoming flowers, she hated it.

That garden and all those flowers in it were cared for by her mother. She put everything into those plants. Those were her mother's mementos. She was made aware of how much less powerful she still is in this situation, not being able to guard what is rightfully hers. Still a weakling.

She clenched her teeth. If she could kill them all, she would have done it by now. As her malicious eyes were staring at him, out of the blue, his light brown eyes caught hers as if sensing her malice.

His stare caught her off guard. Unable to think what she should do next, her hand involuntarily raised and waved towards him. But just like hers before, his eyes became dark and malicious. He turned and walked away.

She breathed out in relief. She didn't expect to see him so soon. She just hoped her action didn't alarm him in any way.

Moreover, since she knows her future, she'll be able to stay safe and keep undesirable circumstances at bay.