They Hated Him For Telling The Truth Novels & Stories

I hate the breach. And I hate him for making me hate him.

he said smoothly, "even when it’s locked from the inside." He clicked his tongue. "I thought you were smart enough to know that, Ivy." My fists clenched. I hated how he said my name like it was a joke. I hated how my desperation amused him. I hated everything about him. With mocking ease, he added, "Calling someone who answers to me… to betray me? That was bold. Stupid, but bold." "I hate you," I muttered, my voice trembling. He adjusted his cufflink, gaze cool. "Save your hate and your energy for tomorrow."

What he felt for them all that moment was hate and one thing about when he hated was the fact changed his entire make-up and how he would see them from henceforth, hate made him reckless till gradually it suffocated every bit of emotions he had for them. He never let himself hate for that reason because once he did he didn't know how to control it. But right now, he could say he hated something. He hated the Eastern Colony and the fact they were trying to make him feel like a fool. Hatred fucking burned deep inside his heart and he could feel every bit of it,it felt like he was getting punched in the guts, and being stabbed over and over again. "What do you have to say about all this?" F

“He thinks you are weak, but he can’t fight the bond and it is making him furious. Now he will think you betrayed him and his pack, and he will hate you. He will finally be mine and you will be gone.” I didn’t even look up at her. I will die and everybody that matters to me will hate me. I will leave this life being hated by the people I love most. They will never know the truth. Dying doesn’t scare me. But being hated by my brother, my only family in this world, does. I wish I could tell him I love him one last time. I wish I could tell him the truth. I wish he wouldn’t hate me. But I know he will.

People lose workers, and I’ve lost really close ones before, so why does this revelation hurt so much? “I’m sorry. You must hate me, and you should. I’d taken your kindness for granted, but I’d rather you discover the truth from me than from anyone else.” “I guess that’s what I get for trusting a thief.” She flinched, daring to look hurt. “Get out. Now.” “And here I was thinking it would be easy—that having you hate me wouldn’t hurt so much. But tell me why does it?” “I don’t want to hear one more word from those lying lips of yours. Get out!”

He was believing she would leave him alone in the end but still was doing everything which would continue to tie her with him for the rest of their lives? “Yes, I am not capable of watching you in pain and I have no intention of hiding that thing anymore from you or anyone else,” he uttered, honestly because he was fed up, forcing himself to believe that he hated her but the truth was the total opposite of it and they both knew about it.

She sounded more curious than sad, as if she was genuinely trying to puzzle out the answer. I hesitated. There were a thousand different ways to soften the truth, but none of them would erase the reality of it. And Caroline wasn’t the type to be fooled by pretty lies. I let out a slow breath and leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. "Because they hate me," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "They hate me for what my father does…the gambling and the constant borrowing of money that he can never return. That’s why no one wants to be friends with me."

"Why are you doing this? You should hate me." "I do hate you right now," he said, and the honesty of it cut deeper than any lie could have. "I hate that you didn't trust me. I hate that you ran to Arthur instead of coming to me. I hate that I lost a child I never got to know because you were too scared to tell the truth." More tears fell. I deserved this. I deserved every word.

His hand was shaking violently as he stared at me. He was desperately searching my face for any hint, any crack that might suggest I was lying. He could have accepted it if this was just vicious revenge, a lie I'd spun to torture him. The one thing he couldn't accept was that it was the truth. Because if it was true, then all his hatred for the last seven years, all the killing, all the motivation that had driven him from the streets to the Don's throne, was a joke. A complete and utter joke.

Only him. And I hated her for it.