Lately I've Been Dressing For Revenge Novels & Stories

He turns, extending his hand toward me. I place my fingers in his, and he holds me as if I’m made of glass though the way his eyes trail over me says otherwise. “You look lethal,” he murmurs low enough for only me to hear. I smirk. “Good. I dressed for revenge.” The deep red gown I wear clings like a second skin, flaring out behind me like a trail of fire. I wore it on purpose. It’s bold and dramatic, a walking middle finger to the family waiting behind those palace walls. Blood-coloured, like a promise. Or a warning.

That's what gets you through,’ I reassured myself, the soft scratching of my pen against paper a soothing counterpoint to my racing thoughts. Hours—or perhaps only minutes—later, I glanced at the clock and sighed. Time to transform into someone else, someone ready to stand at the precipice of revenge and not flinch at the darkness below. ‘Something fierce,’ I said aloud, rummaging through my wardrobe for the perfect outfit. I settled on a black dress, its fabric hugging my curves like a second skin, and slipped into boots with heels sharp enough to be weapons. The mirror reflected back a version of me that could conquer nightmares—or at least, look the part.

"He wants to make sure that when I walk into that room in your color, I look like a thief. But he’s made a big mistake." "What’s that?" Cade asked. "He think I’m still the girl who cries when someone says something mean about her," I said. "He doesn't realize that I’ve already died once. You can't ruin a woman who has nothing left to lose but her revenge." I looked at the "Miller Blue" dress. It didn't look like a cage anymore. It looked like a uniform. I was going to that gala. And I was going to walk in there with my head held high, while Marcus watched his world finally, truly, burn to the ground.

I turned to the bedside clock, it was already past 7 am. I went to the bathroom to wash my face or maybe shower, but I didn't want to wear my old clothes on a clean body. Luckily for me, there were clean clothes on the bathroom sink with a sticky note on it. It wrote: 'It's a good thing we're the same size. You won't mind me lending you this, right? Tyler'. How sweet of him! I held up the tee-shirt and skinny jeans; definitely guy fashion but they would do. With little touch ups here and there, no one would guess they belonged to a guy. I took a quick bath and dressed up; I knotted the tee shirt at the side to fit me more and pulled up my hair in a loose ponytail. For all it's worth, I looke

I didn't waste a moment and exposed his past crimes and sordid affairs in a single night. By morning, Lex had nothing left. He trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. "I've been doing everything I can to pay you back! Why are you forcing me into a corner?" I pulled a wad of cash from my bag and slapped his face with it. "Money? I have more than enough." Then I laughed. "I never wanted money. I wanted your despair." "Lex," I said, my voice dropping low, "I know you're afraid of death. You'd rather live like a dog than die with dignity."

Tessa smiled and chimed in, "That's right. Aunt Gloria, Adrian, you should use the recovered money to improve your living situation and take care of your health issues. You both still have long lives ahead of you." I looked out the window. The sun was shining brightly, and the world was vibrant with life. … Half a month later, Mom and I arrived before Dad's grave with the "emergency funds" we'd finally received 15 years too late. We cleaned up around the grave, then placed fresh flowers and offerings before it. With tears streaming down her face, Mom murmured toward Dad's memorial portrait, "Are you watching, dear? Adrian and I have avenged you! The bastards who caused your death have receiv

Silas didn’t deserve the space he was taking up. I stood, rolling my shoulders back, and met my own eyes in the mirror—ginger fire framing silver steel. “Let’s go with the red dress,” I said, voice steadier. “The one with the slit up to here.” I gestured high on my thigh. “And the black heels that could stab a man through the heart.” Livia’s lips curved—just slightly. “Now that sounds like revenge worth wearing.” A soft knock sounded at the door. Vuk didn’t wait for permission—he never did. The doors opened, and there he was: black leathers molded to his massive frame, golden eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

The kind of outfit that would let Luca keep me in the shadows. On the right: The "Reckoning." It was a vintage, black mesh dress with strategic silk paneling that hugged every curve of my body like a second skin. It was short, it was provocative, and it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was the kind of dress that screamed for attention and demanded a price for it. I remembered the way Sophie had pecked his nose. I remembered the way Luca had let her pull him away while I stood there smelling like his sandalwood oil.

“This is the worst part.” He looked at the youngest guard at the far end of the row—still carrying pure confusion on his face. “You said she whispered something. Before you went down.” The young man stiffened. Flushed. “One sentence, Boss. I heard it clearly.” “Say it.” The hall went vacuum-silent. Every spine in the room stiffened. The young man closed his eyes. “I don’t dress for women, I don’t dress for men—lately I’ve been dressing for revenge.”

The next morning , I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my walk in closet, my gaze cold but calm. Today wasn’t just any special day, it's the day Clarissa will have a little taste of her own medicine. And for that, I needed my armor. I reached for my favorite outfit, a beautiful black crimson dress. It was a dress that whispered class but screamed vengeance if you looked closely enough. I smoothed it down my hips, savoring the way it made me feel — untouchable, divine, and above all, in control.