City Of Anger Novels & Stories

“The city doesn’t care what you want.” The moonlight poured through a cracked window, silver and unforgiving. Ari realized something then—something terrifying. They weren’t just protecting her. They were fighting themselves. And the rules they’d just laid out? They were already breaking them. Because desire wasn’t fading. It was growing teeth.

It sets your soul on fire and dares you to walk through the flames for it. I’ve walked through worse. And if a car makes her angry, if it reminds her that I still know the version of her who once begged me to test drive one down the coast…I’m fine with that. Anger means she still feels something. Silence is worse. I lie back on the bed and let the city hum around me. If she wants a clean slate, she can build it. But I’ll be the ghost in the foundation.

I fired in anger To be continued!!

We got into the taxi and the door shut with a soft thud that seemed to echo inside my chest. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, waiting for the address, and I gave it in a voice that felt tighter than I meant it to. I leaned back, arms crossed, watching the city blur past the windows. But the blur didn’t quiet the fire twisting in my stomach. Anger had a grip on me. Who does he think he is? The scene replayed in my mind in jagged pieces, each one making my jaw clench harder.

“Now, we watch. And we learn. You have forced the system to reveal its true nature. It is not a benevolent guardian. It is a tyrant. And the people are now, for the first time, feeling the weight of the boot after tasting something else. That is a powerful combination.” He was right. Over the next two days, the signal from the city evolved again. The orange flashes of anger began to change. They became less random, less frantic. They became more… focused. The target of the anger was shifting. It was no longer just a general, trapped frustration. The gold flickers of awe and the purple waves of fear were acting as a catalyst. The people were starting to understand what they were angry at. The

I saw accomplices. I saw the men who enforced his will. I saw the women who looked the other way because the money was good. And somewhere in this city, my sister was gone. And these people were dancing. The anger flared in my chest, hot and acidic. I wanted to smash the glass in my hand. I wanted to scream. I wanted to burn this entire penthouse to the ground with everyone inside it. But I pushed the rage down. I packed it into a tight little ball in the pit of my stomach.

The night didn’t feel any different from the others, but something inside me wouldn’t settle. I wasn’t angry anymore. The anger had burned through hours ago, leaving something duller, heavier. The kind of tired that comes after too many decisions, too many days spent trying to hold my ground while everything else keeps shifting beneath me. I could still hear the faint hum of the city in the distance, not loud, just enough to remind me that life outside kept moving, that the world didn’t care what happened inside these walls.

Fire in the Streets Jace's POV It's been three painful days now, and Lucian hasn't come to get me. The delay is agonizing, but the things I see every day from the lonely cathedral window are worse. The city of Barcelona has become a center of violence,gang war, blood, and the senseless deaths of innocent people,the city is in total chaos. The streets are a constant state of chaos, people running helter-skelter, fleeing the war, brutal clashes that tear the city apart every single day.

I slammed the front door behind me and hit the ignition, the engine roaring to life like a warning. I drove. I hit the streets, my eyes scanning every dark corner, every bus stop, every shadowed alleyway. Where are you, you sexy little bastard? The city felt hostile, huge, and indifferent. My blood was boiling, a mixture of rage at Sarah and this sharp, stinging panic that wouldn't let me breathe.

’ For the first time since today, anger fills me instead of sadness as I think about all this, and I find myself talking out loud without even meaning to. “Well, asshole, you should have thought of that before you and your girlfriend decided to pile the jobs of five people, along with other numerous unnecessary tasks, on me for reasons best known to you both,” I declare furiously, surprising both myself and a middle-aged woman who happens to pass beside me right at that moment. She gives me an odd look and goes on her way, while I flush in embarrassment, wipe my eyes, and hurry towards the restaurant. Four or five minutes later, I’m seated at an empty table, waiting for the waiter to take my