Silence Revenge Novels & Stories

"We'll pretend to be in a relationship." His words hung in the air, promising cooperation for revenge against Evan. I wasn't really surprised, but a mixture of emotions washed over me-curiosity, skepticism, and a glimmer of intrigue. "Why do you want revenge on Evan?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of caution and confusion. It was a loaded question, and I wasn't sure what River's motivation was. The idea of teaming up with someone I barely knew, especially for the purpose of revenge, was a decision that required careful consideration.

I growled. I slammed my shoulder into the gold door. BAM. The metal dented, but it didn't open. I hit it again, and again, until my knuckles were bleeding black ink. Every hit hurt, but the revenge in my heart kept me moving. Silas Thorne thought he could turn me into a villain. He thought I would play my part and die. He was wrong. I turned to the screen on the wall. "Silas! Look at me!" The man in the monitor tilted his head, smiling. "I'm looking, beast. Are you ready for your final scene?"

“You’re the one who’s lost.” “You broke into this house. Planted bombs. You tried to kill—” “I tried to remind you,” he cut in. “Of who you are. Of what they did to our family. And who you should be standing with.” My fists clenched. “What they did to our family? What you did,this revenge obsession, it’s not justice, Silas. It’s poisoning you. You’re burning everything down.” His laugh was bitter, hollow. “You’ve been breathing their air too long. You’ve forgotten what they did to us. How our mother died screaming while Luca’s father put a bullet in her spine.”

The audio is clear enough to hear every gasp, every plea. And when that happened— When the internet lit up with their shame— When the board turned on Vane— When Laurent pulled every string to distance himself— When my mother finally understood what she’d married— When Elias realized love wasn’t armor— I’d be somewhere warm. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere new. Watching it burn from a distance. And smiling. Because revenge doesn’t need applause. It just needs silence. And I’d make sure theirs was deafening. I went back inside.

– She smiled sheepishly at him, while her fingers ran through the intricate lines of silver and precious stones on the band on her left hand, still not able to believe that this man was really her husband. - And never will again. – Logan solemnly promised, pressing her affectionately against his chest – But I'm glad to know that they no longer occupy an important part of your mind. In fact, I think this is the best revenge we could get: - he opened a huge, satisfied and malicious smile - The fact that they no longer have any power over you.

“He can’t hurt her again. He can’t hurt any of us again.” The silence of the mansion wrapped around us. I had my revenge.

"It makes you healthy," Silas said simply. "Holding onto anger at someone who can't hurt you anymore isn't justice. It's just poison. You're choosing to let it go. That's strength, not weakness." Damon appeared with a glass of wine and handed it to her. "Besides, the best revenge is living well. And you're doing that. You won. You're Queen. You changed the world. He's rotting in a mansion somewhere with nothing but his own bitterness for company. That's punishment enough."

Only the calm of a storm that knows its strength. Then, softer, but no less deadly: “Whisper again, and I’ll turn your murmurs into your graves.” The silence that followed wasn’t brittle anymore. It was bent, forced under her weight. Even Silas didn’t speak. The chamber did not snap back to quiet so much as it folded — like a giant leaf closing on itself, the sound of wings and breath muted under the weight of something enormous and final. At first came the smallest noises: a throat cleared, a chair scraping as someone adjusted position to listen harder. Then, like a tide catching on a cliff, reactions spilled out.

Kairi, abandoning all dignity, clapped his hands in a deliberately off-beat, complex counter-rhythm. The hum in Silas's throat grew stronger. He lifted his recorder, still silent, but his fingers moved over the holes, remembering. The bubble shuddered, contracted— And with a sound like a thousand sheets of parchment being torn at once, the silencing field shattered. Noise crashed back in—the fire's crackle, our ragged breathing, Maia's joyful bark. And over it all, Silas, playing the "Cobbler's Jig" with a ferocious, defiant joy, each note a spit in the eye of the silence that had tried to claim him.

The laughter in the living room stopped abruptly. The entire world fell into deathly silence.