Jealousy And Rage Novels & Stories

Eyes unable to tear free of the sight of my girl in another guys arms and I can’t tear myself from the object of my all-consuming pain and growing psycho anger, which rages up inside of me in a whole body grabbing kind of way. My instant urge is to beat this shithead to death, and it grips me wholly; rational thought dispersing and I don’t care if she has a right to do this, if this is what I deserve. The rage and jealous pain is all that controls me in this searing second and I stalk forward, vision red, no longer in control of anything but this need to separate them, to get his filthy fucking hands from my fucking girl. MY Sophie! She’s MINE, no one else’s, and I’ll be fucking damned if so

"It wouldn't matter if she didn't constantly want to drive me crazy." "Yeah, because you're angry, I think you're jealous." "Jealousy? Why should I be jealous?" "If you're not jealous, why should you care what Madison does? If you're not jealous then why are you upset when you see Madison with your husband?" "Not jealous, but a little annoyed." Jennifer replied. When Jennifer finished, Aline laughed and replied. "Discomfort is the first manifestation of jealousy, you idiot." Jennifer was silent for a while and then continued:

It wasn’t jealousy, it was pure, unfiltered rage. Rage that she chose him. Rage that she defended him. Rage that the bastard who broke her, who buried her light, now had the one thing I always wanted to be a part of. “What has your panties twisted, lover boy?” My best friend, Jace mocked as he took a stool on my right. I didn’t bother answering as I took another shot and drowned the whole thing. it burned down my throat but did nothing to soothe the fire burning inside of me.

A maelstrom of emotions churned within his chest, a volatile mixture of jealousy, frustration, and a deep-seated rage that he struggled to reconcile with his rational mind. As his gaze settled on Cynthia, his heart clenched in a vice of turmoil. The way she laughed with Lazarus, her eyes alight with a brightness that he had believed to be reserved for him alone, cut through him like a dagger. Every word exchanged between them felt like a searing brand against his consciousness, stoking the flames of his jealousy to an inferno. His fingers, normally steady and sure, clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. The very air around him seemed to crackle with

Grayson. Her breath stutters as I drag her back into me, her spine flushed to my bare chest. I shouldn’t want her this much. Not when I’m this angry. But it’s Raelynn. And nothing about her is simple. My body trembles — not from weakness, but from the storm brewing beneath my skin. Rage. Jealousy. Hunger. All of it tangled into one fucked-up mess. She left with him. Jace, that fucking bastard.

draping themselves over him like he was theirs to devour and something inside me twisted. It was a slow and burning pain all sharp and cruel in the way it spread through my chest. It settled deep, coiling like a viper ready to strike and suffocating at the same time. It was Jealousy. Ugly and all consuming and impossible to ignore. It clawed at my ribs demandign to be let out, screaming at me to do something like rip them away from him or to drag them off his lap and remind him exactly who he once called his. But I didn’t.

He hadn’t told me he was coming. Rage exploded through my chest like wildfire. I didn't understand why, but I knew I was so jealous. My hands trembled as I clutched the curtain. For a second, I considered storming in, dragging Miranda by her hair, and reminding both of them who this empire — and this man — truly belonged to. But I didn’t. I forced myself to stay silent. I let the curtain fall back into place and walked away, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. My heart pounded violently, a toxic mix of jealousy, hurt, and cold fury swirling inside me.

An overwhelming wave of jealousy—wild, possessive, and consuming—struck Kyle's chest. His breathing suddenly became hot and labored. With a rough motion, Kyle yanked at the knot of his black tie, loosening it with a single pull to give his lungs room to breathe as they seemed to burn. His selfish sense of ownership completely overpowered his reason. To Kyle, no matter how broken their relationship had become, Ravelle still belonged to him. Seeing her standing beside another man in public was the greatest humiliation to his pride. "You bastard..." Kyle hissed in a low voice trembling with barely restrained rage.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the resemblance. Kyle. She looks enough like him for the connection to hit immediately. And she’s beautiful. Happy. And I hate her. The realization slams into me so abruptly it almost pisses me off more than the picture itself. Something dark and molten surges through my veins, a cocktail of fury and—God help me—something uglier. Something that claws at my chest and leaves me breathless. Jealousy. A vicious, irrational jealousy I have absolutely no explanation for. The kind that doesn’t make sense. The kind that has no right to exist. But it does. And it burns.

Alvin muttered under his breath, his voice low and bitter, each word laced with the heat of his jealousy. The question echoed in his mind, filling him with a sense of frustration and helplessness that he couldn’t shake. His pulse quickened, the steady thump of his heartbeat growing erratic as the jealousy tightened its grip on him. Every fiber of his being bristled with the emotions he had kept buried for so long, and now, watching Patricia laugh so effortlessly with Caleb, those feelings surged to the surface, impossible to ignore.