Cold Revenge Novels & Stories

A transparent person whom everyone carefully avoids, except to attach an insult or a sneer. I've walled myself in a stone silence. The timid girl was sacrificed on the altar of their cruelty. What emerges from her ashes is a creature of cold observation. I note everything. The names of those who snicker the loudest, Liora's fake smiles, Raphaël's cowardly indifference. I collect their misdeeds like others collect stamps. Every detail feeds the blaze of my hatred.

Quinton pressed at the faint red mark on the back of his hand and spoke in a pitiful tone, "Dr. Foster, I know you're upset about your hands. I only wanted to share the good news that I’d just published three papers in top journals, but you tried to hurt my hands instead?!" He had stolen my work in plain sight and won everyone's praise. As for me, I was already notorious. Voices of contempt and abuse rose all around me. Before I could say a word, Magnolia slapped me across the face. Then, she ground the heel of her shoe into the back of my hand. The pain nearly made me black out. "Quin never did anything to you! He's still thinking about you on his wedding day, and this is how you repay him?

Even then, my brief, fractured dreams had been a suffocating loop of dark eyes, the phantom heat of a large body trapping me against a marble counter, and the cloying, toxic scent of wintergreen. My ribs throbbed a dull, relentless rhythm beneath my heavy chest protector as I stepped out of the tunnel. Every breath of the zero-degree air felt like swallowing crushed ice. I welcomed the pain. It was a grounding mechanism, a sharp, physical reminder to rebuild the iron-clad walls Kael Sterling was systematically trying to dismantle. *If I win, you'll be at my command.*

I picked up my phone and took a photo of the ruined pot of ravioli, then another of the untouched ingredients covering the counter. I posted both online with the caption: "Seven years together feels just like this rotten meal. Beautiful on the surface, spoiled underneath long ago." After posting it, I dumped the entire pot into the trash—the torn ravioli, the cloudy water, all of it. Even the ingredients I’d prepared went straight into the garbage after that. If something had already gone bad, there was no point keeping it. Less than five minutes later, Kian called. The moment I answered, he started yelling, "Lane Miller, what the hell was that post supposed to mean? It’s New Year’s Eve. Do

But life simply makes its own to give you lessons that would bite your ass later, when I was completely in love, completely excited, to break you from scratch and teach you what is called disappointment, guilt, the sins of another resurfacing to consume everything in its path. Japanese phrases and/or words: "Revenge is better cold.” Italian phrases and/or words: "Would you help me get rid of the corpses?"

Hunter paced around. “Did you think he could marry you?” She cried. “That man is a womanizer, everyone knows. But what did you do? You fell into his trap and exposed me. Do you know how long I have worked to bring those people down?” Hilary kept crying. “Women! Show them money and they will betray you in a blink of an eye!” Hunter growled. “I call this place a Carnage.” He looked around. “I’m sure you have noticed the blood around.”

Disdain flashed across her eyes, though she was forced to maintain the smile. "Mr. Jones, let's talk about the contract…" "I'll sign it!" Mr. Jones then pointed at a bottle of vodka, which contained 53% alcohol by volume. "That is, if you down that bottle." Ramona's smile froze on her face. Vodka with 53% ABV would definitely kill her if she were to down one of those bottles in one go. But she dared not turn Mr. Jones down. All she could do was act coquettish in front of him.

Jonathan's eyes are focused on Aiden whose hand is turning red in no time. "That hurts... right?" Jonathan yank Aiden towards office washroom. He pushes Aiden under the shower and turns on the water, cold freezing water. "Cold water helps with the burn, right?" Jonathan smirked seeing Aiden trembling but nodding to his answer. "I know you wouldn't dare to turn off the shower or move out of it unless i say so" Jonathan said and Aiden nodded hesitantly still trembling with fear or coldness unknown. "Words" Jonathan roared making Aiden flinch.

The lines between hate and love blurred, forcing her to confront the complexities of her own emotions. As the silence lingered, Florida and Beta found themselves caught in a delicate dance—a dance of revelations and unspoken truths, where past wounds collided with unexpected connections. In this pivotal moment, Florida's journey of revenge took an unforeseen turn, opening a path to rediscovering the depths of her own heart and the possibility of forgiveness.

The crowd gasped and stepped back. He looked straight at me, his eyes glassy with tears. "Sharon, I know you loved red roses. So let me dye them for you with my blood." Before anyone could react, he drove the blade deep into his arm. Blood spilled fast, painting the snow crimson. From a distance, it almost looked like a field of red roses blooming across the white. He trembled, face pale, but still forced a smile. "Are you happy now? I'll do anything for you. Please… just forgive me."