The Hate Factory Book Novels & Stories

Hope Hate it radiates from every cell in my body. It burns with every breath i take as i drag my tired feet through the mud beneth me forcing myself to stand when i hear the men shouting from the door keeping us locked in this god forsaken place. I can hear the cough of a small girl no more than 10 in the cell next to mine, her chains rattiling with every shake of her shoulders. i wonder what she did to get here. Shes weak we all are, no food or water for two days will do that to you. The dougens smell of sulfure and desparation. Its dark with a single dimly lit lantern sitting in the corner. It flickers from the small breeze coming from beneath the doungen door. My name is hope, its kind of

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I had already learned not to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I turned away, walked down the steps, and pretended I couldn’t feel the mud squish between my toes. He followed me with his eyes the whole time. I felt it—like heat against the back of my neck. That stare of his. Heavy. Focused. I didn’t know it then, but that stare would haunt me for years. It wasn’t the last time he called me names. He had a collection of insults just for me. “Vulture Vee,” “Creepy Vee,” “Vee the Invisible.” He was creative like that. Every week, a new version of me he hated.

“Then, just believe me when I say that the less you know, the safer it is for you. All you need to know right now is that this stays between us and my father needs to believe we still hate each other. Got it?” “Yes,” I reply. I furrow my eyebrows and ask, “Can I see, again?” I catch the shame that flashes in his eyes and he says, “I don’t want you to look at them.” “Why not?” I ask. “Because they’re ugly and disturbing and it’s the part of me I hate most,” he answers. “I don’t hate any part of you. I hate the man that put them there and I hate that you had to go through that but I don’t hate the scars, and I don’t think they’re ugly either.” He searches my eyes for something and then without

“Not through the justice system. Not like Richard. Not like Laura. I’m not here for lawsuits, Elane.” Her eyes widened. “W-what do you want?” “To make you feel exactly what I felt. Fear. Hopelessness. Desperation.” I tilted my head. “And I’ll start with the people you care about. If there’s anyone left who’s stupid enough to love you, I’ll find them. And they’ll watch what vengeance looks like when you cross the wrong woman.” “I’m in prison!” she spat. “What more do you want?!” I stood slowly, letting my shadow fall over her like a curtain.

No, it couldn’t be. I turned, heart in my throat, and got a better look at the man who had fired the gun. Tall. Powerful. Cold. My blood chilled. Alpha Vladimir. The ruthless leader of the Mancini Pack. The nightmare parents used to frighten their pups. He looked at me with disgust, as though I were something filthy clinging to the bottom of his boot. My knees gave out, and I dropped to the ground. "Please," I begged, voice trembling. "Don’t hurt us. We’ve done nothing."

the lawyer read as Festus smiled, his eyes watching me for a reaction. I looked at him, hand to my chin, my face expressionless, I’m sure it hurt him to know that I didn’t care about the house. “To Julian, I give my prized possession, my home in Norway and the factory” the man read, squinting his eyes. “How does he get the factory.. read that again, that can’t be right” Maria said sharply, her high pitched voice resounding in the room. “Madam, your late husband wrote this will, I have no say in it” the man said, turning back to his book.

~Eve pov~ I went straight on my knees the moment those words left his mouth, nobody knew that my father was Steve Cole, the arsonist that made it to the news that year for setting a company on fire, with five people injured, and one dead—Logan’s brother. I did my best to run away from it, I was twelve when it happened, and I hated my father for it. I asked him why he did it countless times, but he refused to say a word to me. So, I cut ties with him, I even changed my name from Sarah Cole to Eve.

Chapter 15 (Sophia's POV) Common enemy. I'd said it plainly in the back of Dax's car and Xander had confirmed it without hesitation. Those two words had quietly dismantled something I'd been holding onto for fifteen years. The clean simplicity of my hatred. It was considerably harder to hate a man who was handing you evidence against the person who'd actually destroyed your family. I was finding that out the inconvenient way. Izzy was waiting in my office at eight-fifteen with coffee, croissants and the expression of someone who had opinions she'd been saving up overnight.

I said honestly "Stop caring about people too much." Christian suddenly said and that make me turn to him "That's why people hurt you, because you're too kind and too care towards people." He added "I don't care." I said "This is how I express my love towards people, sometimes I don't care if they hate me. I rather see them happy them being hurt. I tend to make myself hurt first before someone I love hurt." I added "Let's play 10 questions." He said and I nodded