Silent Revenge Novels & Stories

"This hotel belongs to your uncle?" Nodding, he pillowed his head and lay on the floor, giving a click to the remote he held. The vault switched to a transparent top. "Here is where I speak to the silence, blame the world, and shed my tears." That somehow dimmed the glow hopping on her hand. She took a seat next to him. Under the soothing lights, his sharp facial features stood out even more, and so did his bottled loneliness. She understood the familiar silence. It was whispering, yearning to be heard after years of being ignored.

With the upfront payment confirmed, I set my sights on the task ahead. "Thank you, Silence," I replied, my voice tinged with gratitude. "Remember, secrecy is paramount. We must eliminate any trace of our involvement. Mr. Martin's fate rests in our hands." Silence's voice softened, a hint of reassurance seeping through. "Rest assured, Selena. Our network specializes in discretion. We shall carry out this operation with the utmost precision and ensure your identity remains concealed."

Will she achieve her goal or become a pawn in his sick world? Once again, you have been warned and can turn back if you are uncomfortable with the warning. Welcome to The Silent Stalker!

"There are several reasons for his silence. Firstly, loyalty or fear. If Andrew felt a strong loyalty to the person who ordered the theft—perhaps because they helped him in the past or offered him protection—he might have chosen to stay silent. Fear is another reason. The person behind the theft might have threatened him, making the risk of speaking out greater than the risk of staying quiet." Franklyn interjected, "So, why do you think he will be ready to confess now? What if he keeps silent?"

But in the back of my mind, one thought kept echoing louder than everything else: He’s starting to remember. And if Lucian Voss remembered everything... Then the secret I had guarded for five long years? Wouldn’t stay buried much longer. *** The next day Some betrayals don’t scream. They don’t stab or shout. They don’t come with broken glass, raised voices, or angry tears. Some betrayals are quiet. They creep in silently, like a shadow slipping into the light. They arrive not with a sound, but with an emptiness. Just like this one.

he said, his voice back to its usual low monotone. Leo clutched the champagne flute like a lifeline, the spot where Silas’s hand had covered his burning. His heart pounded against his ribs, not just with residual fear, but with something new, something dangerous and intoxicating. It was a spark, tiny but impossibly bright, ignited in the suffocating darkness of the gilded cage. It was the spark of being truly *seen*, and the terrifying, exhilarating realization that the silent sentinel might not be as distant as he appeared.

Stephen sneered at me, accusing me of faking it, but I could barely remember who he was anymore. The door to the basement creaked open, letting in a sliver of light. I instinctively raised my hand to shield my eyes from the brightness that stung after so long in darkness. "Well, Raelynn Swales, are you still refusing to admit your fault?" Stephen asked. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light behind him. His smirk was derisive, as though certain he wouldn't get the answer he wanted. As my eyes adjusted, I slowly lowered my hand.

Damian asked, checking the straps on his own armor. Leo looked at the staff. Then he looked at us. "The Silence is at the coastline," Leo said. "I can feel them stepping onto the sand. THE DEPLOYMENT We flew South. Not in a cargo plane this time. In a squadron of VTOL (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) transport tilt-rotor aircraft that Seraphina had "acquired" from a collapsing military junta in the south. We flew in formation, hugging the mountain range to stay off the civilian radar. I sat next to Leo in the lead bird. He was staring out the window, watching the landscape shift from the white of the Yukon to the green of the forests. "Mom?" he asked over the headset. "Yeah?" "If I break..."

In the thick atmosphere filled with the stench of blood, skin burnt, sweat and semen, Sila’s hard breathing and screams, Vladimir Sokolov walked towards his sister slowly, his own legs screaming in pain. “Sila, he is dead!” He said calmly. Sila snapped her head up to see who disturbed her revenge. Her rage filled, bloodshot eyes filled with angry tears hurt Vladimir’s heart as He looked at her, completely shook. He cursed himself for her condition, For prolonging her revenge that had left nothing in her heart but revenge and bitterness. She was not his sweet innocent sister anymore.

---------------------------------------------- Lorenzo The worst kind of vengeance isn’t loud. It’s slow. Silent. Surgical. And tonight? I was holding the scalpel. They think I’m slipping. That the empire is too large for one man to grip with bloodied hands. But they forget: I was born in that blood. Bred in betrayal. And fed on silence. While Alessandro tightens his fists and Valentina cloaks herself in velvet fire, I move beneath them under floorboards, behind portraits, through people they thought were loyal.