Tears Of My Enemies Novels & Stories

He leaned in. It was only a moment, however, something crossed Wade's mind and he pushed him away, glaring at him fiercely with tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. They were not the ones he shed when he was high on pleasure, these were angry tears. The look that Wade gave him was as if he wanted to kill Vincenzo, really fucking kill him, full of hatred and enmity. "What's wrong?" Vincenzo asked, not understanding him.

I swallowed thickly, my heart thumping in my chest as my eyes locked with the golden-flecked ones before me. Not from fear — but from hatred. I knew him. Too well. Alpha Florian. Son of Lord Darius. The son of my enemy. He had shorts on, every other part of him bare to my sight — water dripping from his skin while a smug grin remained strapped to his lips. “I’m leaving anyway,” I retorted sharply, my words cutting with tension as I turned on my feet to move. But my body failed me. I stumbled forward, realizing the damage done to my feet was far worse than I had believed.

Even Isabella herself had since frozen with eyeballs dancing about, clearly not expecting that from Isla. But Isla simply smiled. A small, polite yet dangerous expression. None of it reached her eyes. Inside, her thoughts were cold and clear. “You know what they say about … keep your enemies close.”

"Do it. I’ve felt worse... than you... Counselor." ​I didn't have anesthesia. I didn't have a surgeon’s steady hand. I had the memory of every anatomy class I’d taken for forensics and the desperate need to keep him alive. ​The first stitch made him hiss. The second made him roar—a sound so primal it made Leo stumble in his counting. I kept going, my vision blurring with tears, my breath coming in jagged gasps. I was sewing the man who had kidnapped me, the man I had betrayed, and the only man I had ever truly loved back together.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, hot and fast, but I didn’t dare wipe them away; even a small movement felt like it might snap whatever thin thread was holding him from blowing up. He took a step closer, the floor creaking under his weight. "Answer me, boy." "I-I’m sorry," I managed, the words scraping out weakly. "They’re not... I didn’t mean... Millie gave them to me, I just—" "Millie." He spat the name like it was poison. "That dyke friend of yours? Should’ve known she’d turn you into this." Another step. Now I could see the burst blood vessels in his cheeks, the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave in days.

His head tilted slightly, returning to papers. "Did anyone tell you? You're cruel," I said exasperatedly. He chuckled, "Yes, I heard it from the pretty mouth of my mate, just right now," "I'm not your mate. You're my enemy." I told him for the first time. He was terrifying me. I shouldn't forget that he was my enemy. His father killed my father. "I didn't kill your father, love. You must have heard the rumors about me, they are true." He said without lifting his gaze to me.

“Dear, laugh in front of your enemy to make them worry. To make them think you aren’t hurt. To make them feel weak for being unable to hurt you. If your enemy sees you laugh at the moment meant for tears, it baffles them. Hatred and anger can cause them injury. They might even hurt themselves. “*sigh* Sometimes, tears are uncontrollable. It takes over. But whenever rain doesn't fall and you feel like crying, use the handkerchief. I hope it will make you feel my presence patting your head and telling you it’s okay to cry, but you need to stop crying.” Layla read to the page end, and a tear dropped from her eyes. She wanted to wipe it with her bare hand but remembered the handkerchief and she

"I understand." I took a step closer, my eyes boring into hers. "I want nothing to do with a traitor," I spat, my voice dripping with venom. Emmeline's face paled, but she nodded again, her eyes welling up with tears. I could see the fear and uncertainty written across her face.

"Dad" "Baby girl I have never seen you so upset due to someone. And am sure it’s not just anger. What it is"? I asked her politely tucking her long hair back. I could feel her fighting with herself to talk or not. She was twisting her fingers. I held her chin to look into my eyes and I and Jeremy smiled as soon as her eyes filled with tears. It’s not happy tears. But it’s more like understanding. I knew it. I sensed it. I saw the same look in Matt's eyes. Jer looked at me and sat on the other side of Lizz. Gathering her in his arms. She was just crying and we were waiting.

Her words took my breath away, and tears welled up in my eyes once again. "Lynda," I sniffled. "Hush, I'm here," she murmured, enveloping me in her embrace. I buried my head in her shoulder and let the tears flow. I wept for the years of pain that had burdened me. I cried for the arduous life I had endured. I wept for my own sense of hopelessness. Tears streamed down my face, overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness shown to me. These people, who were supposed to be my enemies, had displayed more compassion than I had ever witnessed in my entire existence.