Written In Blood She Wants Revenge 소설 & 이야기

I let out a bitter smile escape my lips. She smiled. "Maybe this next man can help you," she mentioned I don't know if I would be happy to what she said because for the moment, I thought to myself that maybe I could just do this on my own. I looked at her. "Should I really need other's help for my revenge?" I asked her emotionally. "Maybe I don't need others, Silver." "You wanna be independent and start on your own?" she asked genuinely with a coy smile on his lips. "That's a great decision."

My ability to fry someone's brains, and of course she deserves it. I let go of the wheel and relaxed, concentrating on her, wishing with every fiber in my body that her head explodes. I wanted her to feel the pain she's caused my family, I wanted her to feel she pain she inflicted on my Mom. She didn't deserve any kindness and I wasn't going to hold back, it was time to get my revenge. Not long, her hands on the wheel tightened and she screamed out in pain, bleeding from her nose and ears. I didn't stop though, I didn't think it was enough yet.

Then I got out of the car and set it on fire and ran far from it then watched it explode from afar. "Very soon...I'll come for you, Vladimir. Enjoy your life as much as you can in the meantime." I walked towards the car I left there the previous day, slid into the driver's seat and drove back home with a feeling of satisfaction. I was going to finish my revenge, I was goig to end every single person who was involved in the ruination of my life and I was gonna do it in the worst ways possible. ** The Next Day I stood in front of my Target as he approached me. He just came from Australia and I was posing as his driver.

I don't want to hurt him for my selfishness. After eating and drinking... Elina (Jessica) came and gave bill.. she went.. I placed money and took tissue paper and wrote what I want to tell her.. and placed that tissue paper along with the money and went back.. I didn't see that kid who belongs to jack now.. Elina comes and pick the money and she see the note "SOON YOUR LIFE WILL TURN TO HELL.. "

“But it’s not nobility, Aurora. It’s blood.” “It is blood,” I agreed flatly. “It’s my blood and theirs. If the ledger has to be balanced, let my hands shape the math.” I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the old animal certainty that had carried me through darker things than this. “I don’t want you to pity me. I don’t want you to be my avengers. I want to be my own retribution.”

"For now, it is time. Time to put your revenge into your own hands, time to reclaim everything they stole from you, your legacy, your name, your future, and perhaps, even uncover the truth about your past." He turned to leave, dismissing the maids with a nod, leaving me alone once more with the dresses, I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror, the old Chiara was dead, yes. But Viviana Marino? Viviana Marino was about to be born, and her first act would be to tear down the world of those who had wronged her, brick by carefully placed brick. Tonight, the game began.

Her pulse quickened again, but not because she was afraid, but because her resolve had hardened even more, and each light below reminded her of what she had come back for. Blood. Revenge. Retribution. In a few hours, she would be back on Moretti territory…under the roof of the family she had sworn to destroy. Dante’s expectations were still locked in her head, and the plan was already in motion. And Luca… Luca didn’t even know he was standing at the edge of his own ruin. Welcome home, she thought bitterly. New York was about to burn.

He exhaled slowly, the breath sharp from cracked ribs. “That woman,” he said coldly, “she wants to see us kill each other. That’s the only thing that excites her anymore. She craves chaos—blood, suffering, death… Call it whatever you want. It’s what feeds her.” He ran his fingers gently over the bruises near his collarbone, wincing slightly, then smirked without mirth. “I’m used to it.” “You can stop her,” the butler whispered, almost pleading. “You’re not like them.”

Never once admitting that she had sharpened the blade first. It was easier that way—blaming the girl she'd always tried to erase. Easier than facing the reality that her fall from grace was earned. So now, in the back of Vladimir’s club, with a mop in her blistered hand and bile rising in her throat as she scrubbed vomit from tiled floors, Sophia dreamed not of redemption… but of revenge. She knew she had no power. No beauty. No voice left in the world. But hatred? Hatred was free.