Revenge For A Cheater Mga Nobela at Kwento

This was about revenge. “I’ll ruin your career if I want, you cheating bastard!” I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper, but filled with venom. “You think I don’t know about the car accident? The way you hit Rebecca and left her to die?” I saw his face change. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed to lose his composure. He was trying to remember, trying to figure out how I knew. He thought he was the only one who had all the cards. But I had him cornered.

He’s right there with me this time, groaning as his cock pumps, emptying himself deep inside me just as he promised to do. I have never felt anything close to that before. I never knew I could, and when he pulls out of me again, for good this time, I almost feel like crying. Is this really what I’ve been missing the whole time I was with Kyle? Maybe Chelsea did me a favor in the long run by opening my eyes. I should send her a bouquet and thank her for the best night of my life. That might just be the best revenge of all.

I already promise myself that Liam will pay dearly for hurting my feelings. I stormed into the bathroom, my fists clenched with rage. The thoughts of my so called erstwhile mate cheating on me came flooding my mind all over again. Tears dropped off my eyes. I slowly undressed, my mind racing with thoughts of revenge. I couldn't let my erstwhile mate and my so called backstabbing brother get away with what they had done, and I was determined to make them pay dearly for their infidelity. As i slipped into the tub, the warm water soothing my skin, I began to plan my revenge.

Rehab had been hell. Three months locked away, with therapists drilling into my head that my nymphomania was a disease I had to control. They took my phone, my freedom, even my dignity. And when the news of my cheating got out, my boyfriend left me, my family distanced themselves, and I lost what little respect I had left. Now I was out, raw, and burning with one single purpose. Revenge. I grabbed my small suitcase and walked up to the front door, before I could knock, it opened. Claire stood there in a soft cream sweater and jeans, looking every bit the picture of domestic bliss.

I want deep, seated, pain that keeps him up at night. I want him in tears. I want him sobbing, not telling me he needs a friend when he'll go back home to fuck the same girl he cheated on me with. Chiara wrapped one of her arms around me, shaking me out of my headspace. “Don't let him bother you. Your revenge will happen. Karma will hit him. And he'll be crying like a baby, begging you to take him back. Then you'll flick your hair and pretend you don't know him.”

Richard said to Xavier, who kept silent, allowing him to finish what he was saying. "You see, six years ago, when Sarah informed me that you divorced her and confiscated her newborn baby, I knew that a day was coming when you would come back looking for her, and believe me, I was patiently waiting for that day because it was on that day I had planned to make you pay for what you did to her, but with time I brushed that idea away. I'm getting older and older with each passing day, and there are things I have to let go of, and among those things is vengeance.

“How can you be so insensitive?! The first time you think I made a small mistake, are you just going to start hating me and try to get back at me? What kind of love is this that you feel for me and that fades away so easily…?!” "Revenge? You didn’t see anything.” she smiled, through clenched teeth. “If I really wanted to make you pay for what you did to me, instead of just fixing the mistakes I made under your influence, then you would be happy with what happened today. Or do you think I don't know you well enough to know exactly what would hit your precious ego?”

She turned her head slowly, her sharp gaze meeting his. “Why don’t you use me to get your revenge?” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled her arm free, her movements deliberate and steady. “What are you talking about?” He straightened his stance, his smirk growing as he closed the space between them. “A deal,” he said, as though the word itself carried magic. “Help me get rid of my fiancée, and I’ll help you reclaim everything your ex-husband stole from you. My name, my influence—whatever you need. It’s yours.”

"I told you a long time ago, the father would pay through the son's pain. Hazar will weep blood, now that Melek has been dishonored. And with that, Çakir will pay too, for laying a hand on you." I exhale a frustrated sigh, anger, and indignation, she never told me none of this. My grandmother planned a whole revenge based on lies, it angers me that she only sees me as a piece on her chessboard. "What do you mean by that, what do you mean she laid a hand on me? Explain yourself."

Even if I was covered with hatred and revenge was the only thing in my mind, being a prostitute or entertainer would not even in my choice. I chose to be a waitress in this bar. This bar was called Padi's, and it's one of the high-end bars in the city. Most of the customers here were from the higher part of society. But even being just a waitress, crud men were all around, especially when even waitresses had to wear almost nothing. I had to cope with this shit undercover even if I complained and disagreed. Because whether I liked it or not, this was the easiest way to start my revenge for these people.