Vengeance Road Book Novels & Stories

He looked as shell shocked as I was and I reminded myself that he was as much the enemy as his father was. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the three. My vengeance would continue as planned, and Zane would go down with his father. My name is Aya Jacobs and I'm the machete of Justice on all who wronged me. I won't stop till they're all six feet under.

Then, quietly, she asked, “What do I do now? Where do I go from here?” The figure leaned close, voice low, fierce. “You survive. You stand, even when it feels like you can’t. You walk through the fire they lit around you. And you don’t wait to be saved. You decide what this pain makes of you—ashes… or something they’ll regret burning.” Her eyes burned into Selene’s. “Selene Ward… make them pay.” Selene bit her bottom lip as she held the figure’s gaze. Her chest rose and fell quickly, breath unsteady. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she didn’t look away.

The pain this time was different because it was mixed with anger. Anger at the discovery of her best friends betrayal. The anger was so great Sharon couldn't even feel the hot iron rod being used to burn her body. "Confess and end this soon." Beta Frank said coldly. "The only thing that will be ending soon is your deception." Sharon said defiantly. Frank snarled and hit her between her eyes. She saw stars before she passed out. When she woke up she was alone. The air was heavy with the stench of her burnt flesh.

The car tore through the forest like a wounded animal, trees blurring past as their branches clawed at the windows. Xavier's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the narrow road ahead with an intensity that made my stomach clench. I clutched the book against my chest, the mark on my shoulder still burning hot and sharp against my skin, like a brand that refused to cool. I pressed my palm against it, trying to calm the fire, but it wouldn't stop.

“Hold on tight.” The world explodes into motion. Tires bite into dirt and asphalt as we surge forward - a storm of wolves and steel tearing through the dawn. Wind whips against my face, cold and alive, carrying the scent of rain and blood. My heart beats in sync with the engine’s rhythm - steady, relentless, unstoppable. Every mile brings us closer. Closer to vengeance. Closer to the moment I drive my blade through Varrick’s heart and end this war my way. The bond pulses beneath my skin - golden, alive - reminding me I’m not alone. Rafe’s strength anchors me in front, Calder’s presence steadies me behind. For once, we all burn the same.

No, their intervention only fueled the inferno, stoked the flames of my determination. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning a ghostly white. Raindrops streaked down the windshield like tears of frustration, mirroring the tumultuous storm that raged inside me. Revenge had become an obsession, an all-consuming force that eclipsed reason, sanity, and any remaining trace of compassion.

I run past the burning ruins, past the bodies of the guards, toward the third car. I find the keys exactly where he said. The engine roars to life a beast of steel that doesn't care about the tragedy behind it. I floor the accelerator, the tires screaming as I tear down the driveway. In the rearview mirror, Santino’s mansion is a pillar of fire, a funeral pyre for a legacy of blood. THREE MONTHS LATER

Three years after my release from prison, I ran into my ex-wife in the presidential suite of the most exclusive hotel in Bayshore. It had been years since I last saw her. She was draped in a silk robe, radiating wealth. When she recognized me, something unreadable passed through Cecily Monroe's eyes. "On the day you got out, why didn't you wait for me to come pick you up?" I said nothing and handed over the takeout. Her gaze dropped to the scar on my wrist, and her breath caught. "I went too far with that. But you've always been tougher than Adrian. You can always get back on your feet." She was talking about what happened six years ago, when Adrian Burke was involved in a catastrophic

"Look at the master code! Look at the routing headers! Anyone with administrative access to the chalet's central router could have spoofed my MAC address!" Banjo reached out, his hands grabbing my neck pulling me forward until my chest pressed against his. His face was inches from mine, his warm breath smelling of stale whiskey and cold coffee. "I saved you," he growled into my face, his eyes burning with tears of pure rage. "When your pathetic father died leaving you in absolute ruin, I took you in! I gave you a roof! I gave you food! I gave you the Vance name so your father's creditors wouldn't throw you in a hole! And you sold my trade secrets to Baden Lawson for fifty million dollars?!"

I’d be no use to Franka dead. I slumped against the wall. My emotions were all over the place. Sadness hit first, then heaviness and cold. Franka was hurting. Maybe dying. This was because she’d helped me. Guilt clawed my chest. Now Franka. My revenge was becoming a problem. It was like a blade, cutting everyone around me. Was it worth it? I pressed my palms to my eyes. My throat burned. I wanted to save them. To fix this. But the cost kept growing.