My Dearest Enemy Novels & Stories

I asked him pouting. He chuckled and shook his head denying it. He started explaining what it actually meant, and it stirred something in my heart. “You have been my friend and loved me with all of your heart all my life. You are the most affectionate person other than Jay I’ve seen in my life. But the ‘enemy’ means someone who can hurt the other. In our case, don’t take it literally, but you are the only person that can hurt me in this world, Ava.” “You make me happy and hurt me like no one. I love you to the point that it hurts and sometimes the lines get blurred that even when you hurt me, it makes me happy.” He said with his grey eyes swirling with emotions.

“I have to say, she almost had me, she even succeeded in making me leave out of fear, but there’s a popular saying ‘Your true enemies are closer to you than you think’ .” “Salma will be a piece of cake for me to destroy, I know just where she belongs.”

"You know what our enemies will do. They won't attack you directly. They'll attack her. They'll use her. They'll try to break her because they know they can't beat you any other way. They only have to reach the one person who can destroy you from the inside." I didn't interrupt. Everything he said was true. After several minutes of silence I walked to the window overlooking the sea. Memories came without invitation: the wedding where I first took her, Matteo's kidnapping, the rubble in Sicily, the interrogation room, the quiet way she'd cleaned blood from my hands without flinching. Every enemy had already started aiming at her. I spoke without turning around. "Then I'll make sure no one liv

Moreover, we are going to get divorced in six months. "Alessio, did you... find the sniper?" I steady my voice, pushing the images of my mother's body and her blood back down into that part of my brain. The one where I lock up all my unpleasant memories and things. "Yes. Maciej Kowalski." A lightning bolt strikes my head. Metaphorically. The demonic voices are getting louder and louder, laughing maniacally, drowning out all surrounding sounds, but I swallow them down to ask. "Kowalski. Then... who's Adela Kowalski to him?" I see his eyes twitch and his gaze darkens.

Maybe not even to myself. "Your family destroyed mine," I said instead. "This seems... poetic." She nodded slowly, like she'd expected that answer. "Three days, then." "Three days." She left, closing the door softly behind her. I stood there in the empty room, wondering what the hell I'd just agreed to. My phone buzzed, a text from Dec, Please tell me you didn't just do something monumentally stupid. I typed back, Define stupid. You know exactly what I mean. That was Elara Vance. VANCE. As in, your family's sworn enemy, as in, the granddaughter of the man who destroyed your grandfather.

Until hate starts feeling dangerously close to something else. After all, the only thing worse than living with your enemy… …is falling in love with him.

Why had they failed me so miserably? I dropped my gaze to my plate and pretended to cut a piece of meat. My mind was racing. I had let myself believe Alpha Callum's brother, his most fearsome general, Dearon Conaran, was dead. Everyone in Sarendonia trusted the news, saying he had died mere weeks before the Great Battle, and Jarith had been too arrogant to verify it. The so-called great Alpha of the Silver Mountain Pack had ignored the potential threat solely to announce his victory—a victory that had never been real.

And with his help, she had a chance at stopping it. All she needed to do, was get him to agree. "As you would, but unfortunately you have been locked up in this cage like an animal. Thirsty and starved of revenge" she chuckled. "And you, desperate enough to want to join forces with me. Becoming an enemy of your pack." "What?" Niva narrowed her eyes. "I will never become an enemy to my pack, the safety of my pack is my number one priority." "You are down here, against your father's wish, breaking pack rules, negotiating with a captive, an enemy. You don't need a seer to tell you that the moment you free me from the cage, you stand to collect the treatment I would."

Camille said with a scoff. “Will you help me with this?” I asked him eagerly. “What is that saying again? An enemy of my enemy is my friend.” he said with a smirk. “You look desperate so I'll help you,” he added. His words were rude but I had to tolerate it, soon I would not need his help any longer. “What do you think? How do we kill them and when?” he inquired.

I looked at her for a moment, then I let out a quiet breath. “Yes,” I said simply. “And fortunately,” I added, “the enemy of our enemy is our friend.”