Cold Revenge Novels & Stories

I was tired of Isabella remaining in a coma while that coward was free, without paying for what he did to her. It was very frustrating to know that he hurt his daughter so much over the years and as a farewell he ended up almost killing her and he could walk free, my hatred and my desire for revenge was too intense, I wanted him to pay for everything. "Haven't you thought that maybe he is seeking revenge on you? After all he has nothing left to lose." "As long as he wants to get revenge on me and doesn't come to hurt Isabella anymore it's okay," I answered simply, this time I wouldn't let him hurt her again.

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.*

The frozen ravioli sat there in its plastic container, frost still clinging to the edges from the grocery store freezer. I boiled water and dumped them in. The ravioli rolled around in the boiling water for a while before splitting open completely. Ricotta leaked into the pot, turning everything into a starchy mess. I scooped one into my mouth. The pasta was still undercooked, and the ricotta inside was cold. My stomach churned instantly. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. In the end, all that came out was bitter acid. My phone vibrated again, indicating that Isabel had updated her social media.

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.

I felt my whole body getting numb, and my eyes closing. He clutched my jaw in his hard palm so tightly that it felt like breaking. “Do you know what the coldest revenge is? It's taking away what that person truly loves. Those who have lost something precious, involuntarily learn what the best kind of revenge is. Now Ian Ivanov will understand how it feels to lose our loved ones.” with that saying he let go of my jaw with a jerk. “Who are you?” I asked him but he just ignored me.

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.

I snap, storming toward my room and grabbing the small notebook I found last night—the one where I jotted down formulas that kept haunting my thoughts, along with a few I’d crafted specifically for Oliver. When I return to the living room, he’s still sitting, as if rooted to the spot. I toss the notebook onto his lap. The gesture leaves him speechless. “There. Enough perfume formulas to get your revenge on Oliver. And I’ll even give you the name of the man who betrayed you.” “That’s not necessary,” he mutters, finally standing. “Yes, it is. That way, we’re done. His name is Leroy. Satisfied now? Do you think maybe, just maybe, you can stop hurting me like Oliver did? Or do you believe I have