Hating Myself Quotes Novels & Stories

"Ken, it's your turn now to mark your mate." My breath hitched and my chest tightened. He nodded at dad before turning towards me. And I found myself lost in his eyes. So deep, mysterious and beautiful. He leaned down a bit before saying softly, "Can I?" **** Forced to exchange her mate, Darla felt her life turning for the worst, she was maltreated, battered and tattered. How can having a sweet mate who cared for her, who loved her, suddenly turned into having a mate who was a rogue?

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

After my father-in-law, Oswald Leyton, is diagnosed with a complicated form of heart disease, I rush to Germasia for an intensive training on the most advanced medical technique just so that I can operate on him and treat his condition. When I return home after the training three months later, I gleefully find my husband, Nicholas Leyton, to tell him about the good news that I have mastered the technique. The plane lands. However, the luxury car that should have come for me turns out to be a broken-down van instead. Someone throws a sack over my head, and I can hear Nicholas' cold laughter next to me. "Did you have lots of fun with your boytoy overseas for the last three months, Victoria Rosewood?" After he and a few other men force themselves on me multiple times, Nicholas slides open the door, planning to abandon me in the wilderness. "Nicholas! You can't do this to me! I'm pregnant…" I try to explain myself, throwing myself at him despite all the cuts and bruises on my body. However, Nicholas gets even angrier after hearing that and forcefully shoves me aside. I feel an excruciating pain coming from my lower abdomen. Warm, sticky blood starts flowing down my thighs. Then, my vision blacks out, and I lose consciousness altogether.

I did everything against my beliefs in marriage. The day our worlds collided, I hated his guts. If you think a man who is striking—so damn good-looking, shallow, narcissistic, and extremely rich like Mykel Creed will ask the love of his life to marry him? You’re wrong. It was me who asked—a complete stranger, a hardworking independent woman who took a different path from the family business. Yet, right now, I’m marrying him for my inheritance. I blame myself for my self-defeating action. It doesn’t take long for me to realize my biggest mistake is marrying the right man for the wrong reason until my actions speak the loudest, and my heart starts to get a mind of its own. *** Not so long ago, my only priority was making billions with a little bit of fun along the way. Yet it only took Adley Kross a minute to make me agree to marry her—the woman who called me names. If you think I will laugh in her face, call her nuts, and show her the way out? You’re wrong. Well, I owed her, and now she comes to collect it, but that’s not the point—she had me at the first sway of her ass. I blame myself for being drawn to those sterling eyes and her gorgeous curves. But being with her seems to matter more than my money and being bound to her stupid terms.

I believe it is yours Renee" the way my name rolled off his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure right into my core, causing my legs to squeeze together, but I still couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, he extended his hand revealing my lost necklace. "It smells like you." His voice almost breathless. I could feel his chest touch my back. He didn't need to be this close to put a necklace on me. His smell was overpowering me, my legs felt weak causing me to lean into him a little more. “You run really fast; you know?" He said with a laugh, he was so close I could feel his breath fan my ear then I could have sworn he brought his head even closer to the nook of my neck and took a deep breath of my scent. My breath hitched in my lungs, and I squeezed my eyes closed telling myself that this must just be a dream. “There, back where it belongs.” I awkwardly replied. "Thank you, Alpha," I felt like every cell in my body was vibrating. I was becoming very aroused, and it was embarrassing if I barely moved, it might have caused me to moan in pleasure. What would he think of me, being so aroused in his presence.

Brandon Fenton, a scholarship student my father had been supporting, was drugged one night. After some consideration, I chose to lie beneath him. I had loved him for ten years. Giving myself to him felt like something I had long decided, something I owed to that love. But everything fell apart the moment Melissa Giles, his childhood sweetheart, walked in on us. Before she could even process what she saw, she ran out in a panic and was struck by a passing car, killing her on the spot. Brandon held me afterward, telling me it wasn't my fault. He even proposed to me. Because of that, Dad placed the entire company into his hands. But the day before our wedding, he set his plans in motion. He deliberately caused a car accident that took Dad's life. When I was at my lowest, drowning in grief, Brandon took me deep into the woods. There, he drove his car over my body, crushing me repeatedly just so I could feel the same agony Melissa had suffered before she died. "If you hadn't drugged me, why would I have ever touched you? If not for you, Melissa would still be alive! I hate you. All of you deserve to die!" And then, after the pain reached its unbearable peak... I opened my eyes and found myself back on the very day Brandon was drugged.

After twenty-five years of trying to win over Gus Harding, I failed and died by his hand. But he didn't know that. He kept threatening, demanding I show myself immediately. The real heiress slapped him hard. "Genevieve is dead, and you didn't even care enough to see her one last time." Gus scoffed, claiming it was just another one of my tricks. Only when he saw my cold, lifeless body did he finally understand. I was gone for good. And this time, it drove him mad.

At a friend's engagement party, someone jokingly asked Felix and me when we were finally getting married. I looked at him with a smile. However, he said nothing. He only changed the subject awkwardly. The friend who asked looked at me apologetically. I kept smiling and took a sip of my drink. I have always had a habit of putting things off. Not seriously. Just enough to hold on longer than I should. So this time, I decided to let Felix go. And let myself move on too.

"Please… stop pushing. I can't move." The concert crowd was packed and restless, bodies pressed tightly together. I found myself too close to the girl in front of me. She wore a short skirt that brushed against me every time the crowd surged. What caught my attention was how close we were: the faint warmth of her body through the thin fabric made my pulse quicken. For a brief moment, I thought I felt her react too, as if she sensed the same strange tension hanging between us.

Empty vessels make the most noise, and men who fit that description to a tee hardly make for suitable partners. When Corinne had to go on a blind date with someone like that, she did the unthinkable simply to show her disinterest in him—she kissed a handsome older man whom she had never met before. "I hereby pledge myself to you," the older man vowed. If a single kiss from her was all it took for him to devote himself to her, would a second kiss entail much more? There was only one way for Corinne to find out…