Novelas y relatos de Passionate Hate

He wanted to see her blue eyes so closely. He had missed her. He so wanted to hug her badly. After almost loosing her, he vowed to never let her out of his sight. He vowed to protect her and put his life on the line for her. That's how much he loved her. He could be kind for her, he could kill for her. His love had madness in it. It had both passion and Obsession in it.

The King had summoned me to his study probably to talk about the wedding. “I thought you need to see the CCTV on the Carnival,” said my right-hand man. “I don't think there's any reason to see it,” I said dismissing him with a flick of my eyes. He cleared his throat, hesitating. “It was Mendez,” I stiffened, my fingers had paused on buttoning my dress shirt as I passed a hand over my face, suddenly feeling exhausted. In my world people who bore hatred in their hearts are different from the people who were just angry. Hatred could be decisive, driving someone into the edge where black and white meet. While anger was mainly driven by fear.

Mom responded, having tears in her eyes. 'That Man' they are talking about is none other than Curtis Massimo, the devil himself, he is one of the most wanted criminals aka Mafia who have hands in all types of illegal businesses and unfortunately, also my fiancee, I hate everything about him, Yet, I got one thing straight that he is not someone whom you like to have around especially when he is in his bad-tempered he never sees or thinks twice before murdering someone. Once, he killed a waitress because she doesn't bring dessert on time for me when he took me out for a date. He has no heart! Surviving that date is nothing less than an achievement. At least for me because I needed to watch eve

I turned my head away, biting my lip to keep from saying something that would only make things worse. “You’re trembling,” he observed, his tone almost teasing. “Is it fear? Or is it something else?” I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel—powerless, vulnerable, exposed. “I hate you,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. “Hmm,” he hummed, his gaze flickering over my face. “Hate is just another kind of passion, cara. And I think you feel more than hate.” Before I could respond, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear.

“Do you see now, Melisa?” I whispered, eyes locked on hers. Her beautiful, tear-stained eyes, filled with pain, and still… so perfect. “You are fucking insane… Sebastian. I hate you! I hate you!” She screams in loud as she hates me. It is not a word. It’s a pulse. A breathless gasp between obsession and agony. It coils in my chest like a snake too warm to rest, sinking its fangs into reason, into mercy. Hate is love starved, love denied, love twisted until it bleeds. It tastes like copper and broken teeth, like the space between your silence and my scream. It whispers louder than prayer, and louder still than truth. I do not choose hate—I become it.

The lust and warmth in his eyes completely vanished and began to spread anger and hatred again in his eyes when he heard her hateful words, "Please don't touch me.. I felt as someone is burning my body with fire sticks when you touch me.. I hate your touch.. I just hate you.. I even hate standing in your shady place.. You are so disgusting and cruel.. I hate you raghavan.." The rage in her mind made her to pour out everything.. That moment she did not think a bit about the consequences that she would face because of it.. This is the common denominator among all humans. Everyone would strive to contain their love, hatred, rage, and whatever they feel in their minds for a certain point, but ev

“Admit it.” She shook her head, tears blurring her vision, a silent battle raging within her. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I hate you.” He smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips. “Good. Hate is a powerful emotion, *cara*. It keeps you alive. It keeps you sharp. And it makes this all the more… interesting.”

"I'll kill you!" Lydia only laughed. If she wasn't drunk or under the heat like I had been earlier. I would say she had run mad. She looked at me in a way that made my wolf snarl like the hungry beast it was. "Hate is a strong emotion. The line between love and hate is thin. They both share a common denominator, intense passion." "It doesn't change the fact that I hate you with every inch of me. If you think the kiss from earlier changes anything, you are painfully wrong."

"Hate is just passion turned inside out. You still feel something for me. That’s a start." He stepped out and closed the heavy door, trapping her again in the dark.

“That’s not hate, babe. That's an obsession. I mean, seriously, he gets with your ex-wife and practically pampers Kaiden like he’s some fragile treasure? That’s not a vendetta. That’s… a twisted crush.” He shot me a dry look. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “I’m not,” I said, still grinning despite the pain. “You’re telling me he targets the people you love, the people you’ve touched, as if he’s trying to replace you—or worse, become you. That’s not hate. That’s infatuation dipped in rage.” He exhaled harshly, standing to pace for a moment before turning back toward me. “It’s hate, Sage. Pure and unfiltered. He wants me to suffer. He wants to destroy me.”