Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother - Chapter 161 Don’t be silly

Beatrice Da Ville was supposed to be the villainess. A spoiled, arrogant noblewoman who terrorized the heroine, only to be executed for her crimes. At least, that’s how the story was supposed to go.But when a 21st-century woman wakes up in Beatrice’s body, she has zero intention of following the original plot. Execution? Betrayal? A bloody downfall? Absolutely not. She just wants to keep her head down, avoid drama, and live a long, peaceful life.Unfortunately, her unbothered attitude, modern slang, and sheer survival instincts keep catching the attention of all the wrong people. The nobles think she’s a genius, the royal family is amused, and worst of all—the cold Crown Prince Francois Montague, who was supposed to fall for the heroine, won’t stop watching her.Meanwhile, the original heroine, Johanna Lockhart, starts to realize that her perfect fairytale is slipping away. The world that once adored her now whispers about Beatrice instead. And the more she loses, the more dangerous she becomes.With a fate that refuses to let her go, a jealous heroine turning villainous, and an infuriatingly handsome prince who definitely didn’t love her in the original story, Beatrice has one goal.Survive. Thrive. And absolutely, under no circumstances, follow the script.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

After a one-night stand, she faked her death and transformed into his flash-married ugly wife, while he didn't know that she was the woman from that night.Is the ugly wife really so unfashionable and greedy for food and lust? It's all an act. She's only trying to hide her real identity.They survived in the cracks of various schemes. When her hidden identities were exposed, the man's eyes were filled with coldness: “You pretended to be ugly and dumb, are you kidding me?”She smiled faintly: “Didn't you get any joy and pleasure from it?”He frowned: “You deceived me for my looks!”She held her forehead: “I can only blame you for being so good-looking!”He looked as if he wanted to swallow her whole: “I'm not someone to mess with.”She responded calmly: “It's getting late. Time to wash up and go to bed!”