The Hate You Give Novels & Stories

Julian’s POV Her face seemed pale, “I hate the dark..and I don’t know what’s in there” she said in a faint tone “Trust me..you’ll be fine” I said, holding onto her gently. I was sure she wanted nothing to do with the darkness, I mean, I hated the dark once before but the moment I accepted it, I knew it was for the best. I came to become one with the darkness after years of being scared of it, it all happened twenty years ago,

The lust and warmth in his eyes completely vanished and began to spread anger and hatred again in his eyes when he heard her hateful words, "Please don't touch me.. I felt as someone is burning my body with fire sticks when you touch me.. I hate your touch.. I just hate you.. I even hate standing in your shady place.. You are so disgusting and cruel.. I hate you raghavan.." The rage in her mind made her to pour out everything.. That moment she did not think a bit about the consequences that she would face because of it.. This is the common denominator among all humans. Everyone would strive to contain their love, hatred, rage, and whatever they feel in their minds for a certain point, but ev

well I have another reason to hate her By now I thought first to check whether is an innocent or culprit but it's enough now she will have to bear every pain for what she has done till now with my country Now the actual game will begin, the game of hate and love. Be ready Ahana because I am going to destroy you in hate with the weapon of love.

Not after daring to trade me like I am a harmful dog that he needs to get out of his compound. “Give me just one chance, Mr. De’Mario, and I will drop your name in a flash. I will trash it like it means absolutely nothing, because that is what you all mean to me—nothing! You are all dead to me!” I affirm. Silence resonates in the entire room for a long time. They are gawking at me, browsing my face from one corner to the other, searching my eyes to perhaps gauge the intensity of this hate that I am bleeding, and I am giving them all the satisfaction and the time they need.

My head snapped up so quickly our eyes locked. His jaw tightened slightly, anger flashing across his face as he continued. “What I cannot understand is what you ever saw in that brute called Kennedy that made you shrink yourself so small.” His eyes searched mine. “What kind of love makes a woman accept cruelty as though she deserves it?” Shame and pain twisted painfully inside me. A bitter laugh escaped me, wet with tears and venom. “I hate him.” The words came out before I could stop them. “I hate Kennedy James Jones for making me feel small. I hate him for humiliating me. I hate him for touching another woman while I begged him to look at me. I hate him for making me believe I was hard to

EVER AGAIN! Her voice shook, but it didn’t break. ‘Your son bullied me all my life in school. He humiliated me. He scared me. He made my school days hell and you can just imagine the hatred I have for him, and you too! You are and irresponsible mother… who can’t even teach her son proper manners and now you stand here to call me a whore? Questioning my dignity?’ She laughed bitterly, letting her tears burn down freely now. ‘Does cruelty run in your blood?’

> Now I’m not sure if walking away the first time was worse. > I think I hate how he’s changed. > I think I hate that I still notice. > I think I hate that I don’t hate him at all.

“I promise to bring justice to her. Hit me all you want. Scream at me. But do not ever call me that detestable name that dogs bear.” His sincerity was written fully in his eyes and his voice carried an apology, yet I felt a whirlpool of anger deep within my chest. Without thinking, I hit him on the chest repeatedly, one after the other. “I hate you! I hate you!” I yelled, not out of spite, but pain. Raw pain, unfiltered and burning. “Yes, I deserve all the hate,” he said calmly, holding my hands in place. “Hate me all you want, but I will help you get the people who did this to her.”

"I'm Margaret Torres. My daughter was killed by the Romano organization twenty years ago. She was sixteen." My heart stopped. "I'm so sorry" "I read your book," she interrupted. "And I wanted to tell you: I forgive you. Both of you." I couldn't speak. "Not because you deserve it," she continued. "But because I'm tired of carrying hate. Your story helped me let go. Thank you." She walked away. Leaving us speechless. In the car, Jaxon and I just sat. "Did that really happen?" he asked. "I think so."

Her fragile whisper still hung in the air when he violently snatched the photo frame she was holding. "Kabir Hashmi," his voice laced with malice, echoed. The hatred he had meticulously kept caged was finally poised to be unleashed. The moment he had walked in and seen her touching the photo frame, his rage had peaked and exploded inside him. Had his foster brother, Ayaan, not demanded restraint, Kabir would have already killed Ziniya for daring to touch Raina’s picture. As if on cue, Kabir’s phone rang. Without glancing at the caller ID, he answered, “Ayaan.”