The Art Of Revenge Novels & Stories

“I had never even talked to Wick Webster before that night. Why are we even discussing him, anyway? I’m here to talk about what you did.” “I’m serious, Haven.” Gripping my arm hard, he pulled me close and peered deeply into my eyes. “Don’t trust him. The prick hates me with a passion you can’t believe. He would love nothing more than to get the ultimate revenge against me. Like fucking you behind my back.” “Revenge?” I repeated softly as the hairs rose on the back of my neck. Funny how he’d use that word. Then I shook my head. “Revenge for what? What did you do to him that was bad enough to merit his revenge?”

she said cautiously trying not to enrage him. "So do you hate me now? Or felt pity, and that's why you forgave me easily?" He asked, his words not sounding calm. "I neither hate you nor felt pity. What you did was out of emotions. The situation you was in might led to anything or something worse than you did. I don't judge you for that. I neither felt pity because you took your revenge. You made your life better on your own like every adult but it was really something courageous. And maybe the behavior you had with me or everything you did might be the consequence of your disturbed past. So I neither judged you nor felt sentimental but I felt your pain of losing your mother. Because I also l

It is already too late and there is nothing that he can do but to just remember every single detail about it and never forget. “In the name of forgiveness and retribution.” Arthur whispered to himself as he finished taking a bath. Looking at the custom mirror that he has in his personal bathroom, Arthur looked into his eyes and again, replayed the scenes inside his head a thousand times. Not altering a single scene, a single detail… all were kept in its originality and he will keep on doing so. He will not forget a thing or change a thing about it— for the sake of forgiveness and retribution.

Jefferson said. I felt determined. A feeling of hatred and anger rushed through my veins. It was finally the time now. The time to launch my attack. The time to take away everything that b*stard achieved. The game has just begun, and the end will be deadly. It's going to be the end of that murderer. My venomous revenge will begin shortly. Xx____xX

"You have yourself. Your intelligence, your strength, and your worth. Those don't disappear just because one asshole couldn't see them." "He's right," Ares adds. "And honestly? The best revenge is showing him exactly what he lost. Living well, being happy, and proving every single thing he said about you was a lie." That word “revenge” sparks something in my chest. "Revenge," I repeat slowly, and suddenly I'm thinking about Leo's smug face, his absolute certainty that I'll come back, that I need him. The three men exchange a loaded glance. "Revenge is complicated," Harvey says carefully. "Usually backfires."

But deep down, I know that revenge, while sweet, comes with its own burdens. I sit in my office, staring out the window, the cityscape blurring as my thoughts drift. The cost of this revenge weighs heavily on my mind. I’ve sacrificed so much—my family, the people I love most in this world. My thoughts wander to Logan, the man I used to exact my revenge. He loves me deeply, and yet I’ve manipulated him for my own purposes.

She moved gracefully among the guests, but her eyes were always on Thomas, assessing his reactions with a mixture of pleasure and vindication. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?” I muttered to myself, unable to contain the disdain I felt for this manipulative display. Eva was using art as a weapon, turning a moment that should have been one of celebration into psychological torture for Thomas. I remembered when I saw the package the butler had received about a week ago, the Cheyenne painting and the way Eva had talked about it. Did she know about the emotional involvement between her and Thomas? That “exposure” was a way of getting to him, obviously, but why there and now? What had happen

he tried to dissuade me, backing away. “Oh, don’t worry. Any of your art pieces are worth more than the miserable pay at work,” I informed him. Andrew understood that I wouldn’t stop until someone forced me. He cursed under his breath and ran out of the room. I chased after him, knocking over sculptures and pulling down paintings as I did. Every collectible piece I grabbed, I threw at his head, never hitting my target. I even followed him down the stairs. I wanted him to suffer as much as I was. But my revenge was unfortunately interrupted when two security guards grabbed my arms from behind.

For the first time since I had embarked on my quest for revenge, I felt as though I was reclaiming my power not just as a businesswoman but as a woman who had lost so much yet had emerged stronger. As we laid out a plan to counter Andre’s potential attacks, I felt hope flooding back into my veins like warmth chasing away the chill of winter. We made a pact to confront our pasts and our enemies together, meticulously drawing up strategies and formulating defenses against the lurking threat. In that moment, as we began to weave our dreams and ambitions into a realistic fabric, I realized that revenge wasn’t just about destruction; it was also about building anew brick by brick, layer by layer.

He looked at me and winked. " Cleaning the sauce I dropped by mistake. " " Ok, now leave it. I will do it. You watch the movie it is very interesting. I think the murder..." What the hell!! He dropped more cheesy dip on me. " Oh, sorry!! Don't worry, I will clean... " He said and bent again. I pushed him. " ADAM!!! You pervert! What are you doing?? " Baby, please... I should get the punishment. See you have already taken bath but I made you messy so it is my punishment to clean you. I will do it in a minute. " He bent again and licked it.