Revenge X Storm Novels & Stories

Seeing Christopher's and Melody's animosity, Luke cautiously asked, "Mr. Bolton, do you want to…?" Christopher merely gave a dismissive shake of his head. This was a grudge between Melody and that little girl. Melody could only find true relief if she took action herself. Melody's blows fell on Dwade like a relentless storm, each one targeting his most vulnerable spots. Soon, his face ballooned, resembling that of a pig. "Say it! Did you hire someone to assault us?" Dwade, despite his now nearly shut eyes, spat out with contempt, "Bah! You reap what you sow, woman. What's that got to do with me? You got what was coming to you!"

"It's time to face our demons and make them pay for every tear we shed because of them." At that moment, determination burns stronger than ever. The night of the banquet approaches, and I am ready to confront Derya Arslan and the Arslan family, to expose their true nature, and to put an end to the oppression we have suffered for so long. Revenge is about to be fulfilled, and there will be no mercy for those who have hurt us. Justice will be served, and I will be the instrument that will carry it out. Enise approaches me and embraces me tightly, and I reciprocate the gesture, gently stroking her back. I can feel her gratitude and affection in that hug, and her words deeply move me.

She simply whispered to herself, “Loss doesn’t need revenge. It only needs truth.” And somewhere in the quiet night, Revan finally understood— This wasn’t a storm. It was the consequence he could no longer outrun.

Perhaps… His hand shot out, seizing my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. His eyes were ice. “What have you accomplished that’s remarkable? Did you build me an empire? Serve me the world on a silver platter? You were always nothing.” He pushed me away. I stumbled, hitting the ground hard. The divorce papers floated around me like snow. “And don’t you ever…” His face was inches away from mine, twisted in something like hatred. “…use your martyr act to make me feel guilty. I don’t owe you anything.”

“You were being deceived for so long. Talking you out of it wouldn't have convinced you so it was good you saw it for yourself.” “What do you want from me?” I asked. “You're the cousin of the man who just left me to die after cheating on me, I know you're not here to offer your sympathy,” I added and his lips curved just slightly to reveal a dangerous smile. “You're smart. I like that. I do want something from you. And it's not difficult. At all.” Ethan said, his eyes fixed on me and I blinked in confusion. “What do you want?” “Revenge.”

"It just feels heavy. Seeing him sweat today didn't give me my old life back, it didn't bring my dad back. It just reminded me of how broken everything is." "Revenge is never pretty," Alessandro said gently. He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to me. "People who say revenge is sweet have never actually taken it. It is an ugly, dirty business. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth. But sometimes, Chiara, it is the only way to clean the slate. You are cutting a rotten piece out of your life. It is going to hurt, and it is going to feel heavy but once he is gone, you can finally breathe again." He understood… he actually understood the dark place my mind was in, and he didn't judge

"I'll do it. I'll agree to go back to the family and cancel the wedding with Robin." A long silence stretched from the other end of the line. He didn't ask why. He just said one word. "Alright." After hanging up, I immediately called my wedding planner. "This is Isabella Moretti," I commanded. "The wedding is off. I want everything pulled. The hall, the cars, the security detail, the food, the flowers. Pull it all. Now." "Wh-what? Miss Moretti, but…" "Do as I say." I have seven days to plot my revenge. The countdown starts now: Day One.

He whispers, “Please stay with me tonight.” “I am not going anywhere,” I promise. As Louis drifts against me, exhausted, I glance at my open bag where my phone lies glowing with half-written messages and dangerous threads waiting to be pulled. The storm I unleashed is still out there, gathering momentum. I take a long, shaking breath. At this moment, my revenge feels childish, reckless. At this moment, all I want is for Louis to breathe without pain. But storms do not stop simply because you regret calling the wind.

And no one was there to teach him. Just fear. Just rage. That rage never cooled. She pulled her fingers back. The water stilled. She laughed — low, pleased — because now she understood some of the root of why he hated those of his kind. Not politics. Not law. Not justice. Revenge. Pure. Old. Fermented in humiliation. “That is your reason,” she said, lifting the vial in her hand. “You want the Storm Boy dead because power slipped through your fingers when you were powerless. You want to crush the child because no one stopped the world from crushing you.”

Who the heck was this? "I can't wait to get my hands on you. I've always loved you since you were a blooming adolescent. It's only a matter of time before we meet in person and I can taste what is rightfully min—" "Shut the fuck up, you twisted bastard!" Storm exploded, his voice barely controlled. "Over my cold, dead body will you touch her!" "Then I'll have to fix that won't I?" A sardonic cackle. "I'm not afraid to cut anybody or anything that stands between me and my money. And my lovely Celia off. Absolutely nothing will stop me!"