I Spit On Your Grave Summary Novels & Stories

CAMILLIA'S POV My eyes were fixed on the grave in front of me. I felt a deep sense of suffocation and frustration that I had never experienced before; even in death, he continued to infuriate me. In a burst of anger, I shouted loudly, "Damn it!" and kicked the edge of the gravestone with all my might. I grabbed the bouquet of flowers that had been left there and threw them harshly onto the ground, crushing them beneath my feet as I stomped on them.

With a nasty smirk, I pulled down my zipper and peed on his grave, letting the amber liquid soak into the dirty black soil. “Wish you a terrible life in hell.” I spat. The thick white foamy saliva mixed with my urine, desecreting his grave. Dangling my flaccid cock and pumping the last drop, I zipped up and turned around. Still wearing the ugly smirk, I looked at each of the older men in irritated anger. “Let this be a warning to you.” I pointed randomly. “You. You. All of you.” Their heads remained bowed. “If anyone fucking dares cross the thin line, your end will be so much worse… I'd so drag your family into your mess and make their last days miserable.”

“The transplant was a success. The liver graft has taken.” Still, not a soul breathed a word about me. When the nurses wheeled Vincent out, the three of them swarmed his gurney, drowning in relief. My body, meanwhile, was wheeled away without a second glance, bound for the morgue. Alive, I’d been an outcast. Dead, I was nothing but a discarded spare part. I’d spent my whole life believing that if I bent low enough, I might one day earn even a scrap of their love.

Line after line of text streamed across my vision. My jaw dropped. Thinking my eyes were deceiving me, I rubbed them hard several times. The comments stayed right where they were, stubbornly refusing to vanish. More warnings continued to flood in. "It's over! Jess is almost home! She's walking straight into the trap!" "Jess, your husband is going to find an excuse to leave you alone with Marianne so he can frame you! Whatever you do, don't go inside!" "At exactly 7:10 pm, Marianne will fall to her death. They're setting you up to shoulder the blame for her murder."

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

For fifteen years, Maria Winston believed the Alpha family who adopted her was her true family. Then their biological daughter, Sera, returned–and everything changed. When Sera became involved in a serious crime, Maria was persuaded by her beloved adoptive brother, Callum, to take the blame. Believing it was her way of repaying the family who had raised her, Maria sacrificed her freedom. Instead of the light punishment she was promised, she was sentenced to two brutal years in a labor prison. No visits. No letters. No one came for her. When Maria finally returns, she discovers her family has already replaced her. Even her wolf has gone silent. Determined to leave them behin

“You didn’t make a mistake. You made a decision.” He pulled the blade away and shoved the gun back against Diego’s forehead, locking eyes with him. No mercy. No soul. Just cold, burning betrayal. “Tu hai scavato la tua fossa con le tue mani. Ora prega che io non ci sputi dentro prima di seppellirti.” [“You dug your grave with your own hands. Now pray I don’t spit in it before I bury you.”] Click. The trigger pulled halfway.

“You know I am right.” Gramps storms into the house glaring at Grandma the whole time. He grabs his shovel and storms back out of the house without another word. “So, he’s still mad.” I smirk as I take another sip of my coffee and this time I receive the glare from Grandma. “What’s he even doing?” I ask. “Apparently, he’s digging my grave,” she laughs taking another sip of her coffee.

I let out a faint, bitter laugh as the last of my strength drained away. Samson watched as I fell to the floor, my face drained of all color. He suddenly snapped back to his senses and caught me before I hit the floor, his face ashen with fear. "Sharon! What's wrong? Sharon, answer me!" The trash can beside me toppled in the process, and the empty bottle rolled out. He snatched it up and sniffed it. "Wolfsbane? Sharon, are you insane? You're not allowed to take your own life, you hear me?"

he explained and I nodded in understanding, keeping my head against his chest. "The Graves brothers have a surprise for you. Something that would improve your mood," Uncle Aaron uttered with a smile on his face. I pulled back from him, turning to look at the three brothers, standing behind us. I run a trembling hand through my hair. "Tell me, I could do with some good news," I mumbled. "Our men managed to wipe all of Vissarian's men out," Ares explained, a small smirk curving the corner of his mouth. "That's good, but I wouldn't consider that good news. Not while my best friend is fighting for his life," I argued, a painful knot forming in my throat as I looked over at Gunn.