The Taste Of Revenge Book 2 Novels & Stories

The Revenge Plan Copyright © 2019 by Linda Kage This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book—except in the case of brief quotations in reviews—may be used, reproduced, or translated without written permission of the author. Contact Information: linda@lindakage.com

‘Trust me, if it takes that long to read a person, no one would want to do it. “Are you okay?” I looked back into Tessa’s eyes, so glad I got to meet her. Now I’m one step closer to catching my mother’s killer. ‘I think I found out who murdered my mother...’ I said to Antonio. ‘I know, did you forget you’re an open book now? Hold her hand with the both of yours and finish that vision.’ I mentally nodded and placed my other hand on Tessa’s. The vision continued. “Renee? Who is she? Why would she murder your wife?” Catherine’s hand was at her throat as she swallowed hard. Frank didn’t answer right away.

My skin crawled in revulsion, and I wished for death at that moment. My wolf growled in anger, no one was allowed to touch me, aside our mate. I bit hard on his lips, until I drew blood. I heard the sound of the slap before I felt the sting. He had slapped me. "You think your feistiness would push me away? Dream big. You'll be mine, that's my revenge on your godforsaken mate!" He spat in anger. "You have a day to think about it, else you'd have yourself to blame." He forced the words out, as if he was constipated.

I drove towards the beach because in a few minutes, the sun will rise and I want to see my last sunrise before having my revenge later on at night. As soon as I arrived at the beach, I got off my motorbike. I took off my helmet and sat down on the sand feeling the cold sea breeze. I closed my eyes and tears started to come out from my eyes remembering why I'm starting my revenge today. I got up and opened up the seat cushion of my motor bike. I looked at the small brown envelope and took it out. I walked slowly towards the water and closed my eyes praying for my sanity to go for revenge.

“Just… be here. With me.” I looked into his eyes, and a big frown spread over my face before I moved away from him, and he moved to lie on the other side of the bed. I hated myself; I hated myself for enjoying being with him. This was supposed to be just a deal, a way to get close to him and carry out my revenge, not to enjoy it. Feeling terrible, I moved slightly and noticed a bloodstain on the bed—the stain of my virginity. Alpha Enzo’s eyes fell on it too.

She envisioned the look of shock on his face as his world came crashing down, just as hers had all those years ago. But even as her heart yearned for retribution, a voice of caution whispered in her mind. Was this truly the path she wanted to walk? Would exacting revenge bring her the peace and closure she sought? Amia closed the book, her fingers tracing the intricate designs on the cover. She knew that revenge was a double-edged sword, capable of inflicting harm on both the avenger and the avenged. Yet, the desire for justice burned within her, fueling her determination to see her plans through.

Kenneth humiliated you. What if this is your chance to make him suffer? I exhaled slowly, gripping the card. Maybe revenge wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Serena sneered coldly, staring at the face she once loved so deeply. It had been love at first sight back then. But now, when she looked at him, her heart was calm—untouched, unshaken. The greatest sorrow is when the heart dies. The true opposite of love isn’t hate—it’s indifference. And that’s exactly what she felt for him now. No anger. No pain. Just silence. The Art of Revenge was never about rage—it was about letting go. She didn’t need to destroy them. Her joy was the masterpiece. And they would suffer, helplessly, watching her shine.

A promise of violence. "Say it again," he whispered in my ear. "Give me a reason." I should have stayed quiet. Should have been the obedient, broken thing he expected. Instead, I smiled. "Monster. Coward. Heartless bastard. Is that enough reason?" His grip tightened. Black spots danced across my vision. Somewhere far away, Lila was screaming, but the sound felt distant, unimportant. This was it, then. This was how I died. Strangled by the man I loved, in front of the sister who betrayed me.

I turned, vision hazy, to find him. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark eyes that seemed to strip me bare in a single glance. He leaned against the counter like he owned the place, like nothing in this world could touch him. “Don’t ask,” I muttered, slamming the empty glass down. His mouth curved in a knowing half-smile. “Betrayal leaves a scent. I can almost taste it on you.” My laugh broke on a sob, ignoring his words. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, only signaled the bartender for water. When I reached for another glass of whiskey, his hand caught mine. Warm. Steady. Commanding.