Romans & histoires A Story Of Vengeance

“They don’t care about Delaney. She’s just bait. Kevin has everything he wanted from my phone. He doesn’t need your necklace, not truly. He wants _you_.” Seth emphasized the word, his eyes wide and fixed on hers. “In an isolated location. Where Victor can’t establish control quickly enough. You’re Felix Hart’s daughter. The final unfinished piece of Malik Zacchaeous’s revenge. After thirteen years of waiting… Malik intends to finish what began in Rome. Tonight.” The world spun for a moment, the concrete walls pressing in. Rome. Malik. Her father’s death. He wasn’t after the necklace. He was after her. He wanted revenge. And Delaney was just a pawn.

I return to my window, I look at the city, I look at the falling snow, I look at what I have built, what I have destroyed, what I have become, and I wonder, for the first time since I began this vengeance, if this was what I wanted, if this was what I was seeking, if this is power—this immense solitude, this absolute void, this total absence of everything that made me a living person. In the silence of my office, in the silence of my victory, in the silence of my defeat, I hear Matha's voice from six years ago, when I arrived at her place with nothing, with no one, just a round belly and a head full of nightmares. I hear her voice telling me: "Vengeance, my dear, is like poison. It never kil

“You are losing control. I can feel it.” My wolf spirit surged in response. My vision sharpened and my heartbeat slowed dangerously. “Do not test me,” I warned. “Someone has to,” she said. “Because while you play strategist, you are forgetting what vengeance demands.” At that word, something inside me cracked. It was vengeance. It had lived in me for years. It had shaped every decision I made after the massacre. I had not forgotten every moment of alliance, compromise or restraint. I had not forgotten. Instead I had refined it all

Tonight, I understand that his cruelty I imagined is way smaller than the actual depth of it. This should make the vengeance simpler, but it makes it worse because now, it’s not just my grief anymore. It's hers and Katherine's, and it's starting to feel less like justice and more like something that's going to cost more people than just Edgard when it finally comes down. I get up and pour a drink from the minibar I haven't touched since we got here. I chug it down, the hot liquid doing nothing to ease my restlessness. I set the glass down, and sit in the dark of the hotel room, remembering how I treated her when I first got her kidnapped.

“The Ghost won’t stop until they break one of you.” “I know.” She glanced at me. “And if they can’t break you?” I looked out at the horizon. “Then they’ll try to use her.” Gia nodded slowly. “Then you’d better make sure you’re ready.” I turned to her, voice low. “I’ve never been more ready in my life.” Because now, this wasn’t about survival anymore. It was about vengeance. About burning the name Vittore so deep into the earth that no one would ever dare to resurrect it again.

"Yes. We'll help you, pathetic little creature that you are. But not because I wish to help you. Because of what you'll do to repay me." The things I'll have you doing. Chest heaving, fire lit her eyes at his provocation. Enraged that he'd dare propose such a bargain. Dare make demands on her. Go ahead, be mad. That'll just make this vengeance all the sweeter. Disseus remembered his own rage. "What lengths are you willing to go to, to save your son. For your revenge?" He asked the question directly. Forcing her to answer the question just as bluntly.

I said cheerfully, "you're invited to our upcoming wedding." That's all. This is I will begin mine for vengeance. I'm going to hurt them one by one. Not physically but mentally and emotionally. I just stared at them intently. I'm not sure what they'll think of me, but the important thing is that I can exact my vengeance. "W-wedding?" She stammered. "Yup, it's close. Come on, I'll send you an invitation card." I said. I just looked into his eyes.

My whole life fell apart, and the worst part is that I did it to myself. After everything, I gave the shares back. All of them. To whom they actually belonged to, because none of it was ever mine to keep. I only had them because I let some rotten, borrowed sense of vengeance convince me I deserved them, convince me the whole plan was justified. Turned out that vengeance cost me everything. Grey. Myself. Every single thing we ever built together, gone, because I couldn't let go of a plan built on a lie I didn't even know was a lie until it was too late.

As the door clicked shut, something in me broke not into smaller pieces, but into something harder and sharper. The pain was still there, piercing into my head like a cold snake coiled in my stomach, but it was now joined by a new, fierce emotion: a burning, all-consuming hatred. But it wasn't in my spirit; it was the last chain holding me captive. The love I’d once foolishly harbored, the fear, the hope, it all drained away with the life of my child, leaving behind a cold, hard, empty vessel, ready to be filled with purpose: “Revenge.”

>>>>Escape.>>>> I’m spurred by rage, my feet hurry down the hallway non-stop even when the FBI agents yell for me the surrender. I don’t. I’ll live to avenge my mother’s death. I'll live to slash my gun brutally against her gut and watch her blood coat the floor like my mother’s did. The spirit of vengeance strengthens me while I run. My mind howls at me for falling in one thing; never love a Vladimirovna. Never taint your soul with anything that has to do with him….his family.