Revenge, Served In A Black Dress Novels & Stories

Greedy. He stole my father’s idea and ordered my parents’ deaths. I hate him. And everything that revolves around him. I wanted to kill him. I still do. But my uncle told me that the best way to hurt someone is to take revenge on their loved one. Xander Black is the apple of his father’s eye—his weakness. And the key to destroying him.

“She’s adamant about the war. When I met her today, she told me we took her mate and father from her and that’s why she wanted revenge…but if she killed her own mate, why would she want revenge?” “She always wears black.” Axton added, picking up a cup and taking a sip of his coffee. “Like she’s moaning someone she lost. It could be her mate, because she might have been forced to kill him in order to shift advantages of winning the battle on to their side.” “Which explains the black clothing.” Gustav rolled his eyes. “Honestly, that woman is a mess and she’s dragging two packs into this due to her personal vendetta.” “So? Are you going to battle here?” Axton asked, almost anxiously.

It wasn’t the girl Alexander had made feel like nothing, the naive girl who thought the world was full of the same love she had to give, who believed love was enough, who wanted safety more than power. Ivory was all mask. I closed my eyes. Is this revenge? Or is this monstrosity? I turned away too fast, needing the thought to scatter. The apartment smelled like jasmine oil and expensive candles Racheal insisted I buy so I “fit the role.” My feet ached; the silk neckline of my gown suddenly felt suffocating. I unzipped the back of the dress, dragging the fabric off one shoulder. Cool air brushed warm skin. And then I heard footsteps.

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.

There were no magic formulas to cure it, just daily battles and a slow and gradual acceptance. With a sigh, struggling to be positive and thinking that both her therapy and the revenge plan were just beginning and could bring some significant improvements to her still shaky state of mind, Missy smoothed the hem of her dress, wondering whether Logan would like it as much as the black dress his mother had given him. That was one of the dresses she'd bought herself, however, it was far from themed or anything remotely close to triggering her. It had a totally sober, non-flashy print, with a skirt that reached just past her knees, a belt made of the same fabric, long sleeves that she had rolled

For all the times he had treated me like I wasn’t worth it, I was going to hurt him more. He would regret why he had done what he did to me. He had used me and treated me like trash. This was my turn to revenge and get back my children in the process. When I was done soliloquizing about my future wins, I donned the gown and started for the mirror. It was a sexy gown with a long slit which ran from the bottom of the long dress to the lap in front. I held a leg in front, admiring how hot I looked. I was going to be the center of attention at that party.

My lips tugged back wickedly as I let the scarf I had been carrying throughout the evening slip off of my shoulders, revealing the daring part of my dress. Hades' eyes scanned my atrocity, narrowing precariously. A sense of satisfaction surged through me at his irked reaction. It was a sexy burgundy slip dress with a low V cowl neckline that showed a generous amount of my cleavage. Thank the heavens I was rich on that department. Not to mention the open back. It was nothing compared to what the other women wore, but it was enough to set off the time bomb ticking into Hades' head. It was my revenge dress. I was glad I chose it against Nola's better judgement. Perhaps my guts knew of my disagr

That’s when I realized it might be something, but whatever it is, tonight, it seems like it just might ignite into a fireball. I clear my throat. “Well, I better get ready to head home. We have a big day ahead of us.” “Yes, we do. I’ll walk you to your car, my lady, " he said with a hint of sultriness. **** The next evening was memorable for all who attended, especially me. Tonight was about revenge. Showtime was only minutes away! I looked at the body-length mirror. I wore a red fitted gown with a scooped-low neckline, offering a compelling view of my cleavage and six-inch red stilettos. My long, silky blonde hair was swept to one side. The only thing that was missing was my frosting. “Wher

Rhea's Pov It was time for the trial. I stood in front of the mirror, tipping my hat so it covered half of my face. My reflection stared back, unrecognizable, and I almost smiled. This was what I called revenge clothing. A black fitted dress hugged me from the shoulders down, ending just above my knees. The fabric was smooth and at the waist, a thin leather belt cinched in, highlighting my figure without being too loud. The neckline dipped just enough to look bold without crossing into vulgarity. My hat, tilted low, added an air of mystery, only one eye visible under its shadow. A pair of sheer black stockings finished the look, giving me the edge of elegance and defiance in the same breath.

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.