Can Holding Grudges Improve Motivation In Fiction?

I see her in his arms. Adrian’s hand is at her waist, and she’s looking up at him like he hasn’t spent years breathing the same air as her without ever earning that look. My fingers curl around my glass. Then he says something. I don’t hear it. I don’t need to. Because Wren… giggles. My world tilts. I’ve heard her laugh before—sharp, defiant. But this was different. And it was not for me. Rage claws up my throat, aimed straight at Adrian. I shouldn’t care. Except I do. I fucking do. Then Wren stumbles. Adrian catches her, pulls her back—and their lips collide. Just a peck. Clearly accidental. But it detonates inside me. Something snaps. The glass slips from my hand, shattering, and all I see is red. My body moves before my mind can catch up. Because suddenly, it all crashes into place. Her silence. The loss. It felt like I’d lost something I didn’t even know I was holding onto. And I was the one who did it. My pranks. My cruelty. I was the reason her scholarship got revoked! God! A bitter taste floods my mouth. She cut me off because she had every right to. Because I deserved it. But that doesn’t mean I can let her go. It doesn’t mean I will. If it takes groveling, I’ll grovel. If it takes begging, I’ll beg. Hell, if it takes dropping to my knees in front of this entire fucking college and tearing my pride apart piece by piece just to earn a fraction of her forgiveness. Because she matters. I don’t care about anything except her slipping out of my reach. And I’m ready to burn everything down for her.

She died once in fire while the man she loved watched her burn without a single step forward. Elena Vale was the villainess of a romance novel—written to be hated, destroyed, and discarded at the end of the story. And she did die exactly like that. Until she woke up at the beginning of it all. The night of the Arden Charity Gala. The night everything was supposed to start. This time, Elena remembers everything—every betrayal, every humiliation, every moment she was written to lose. But instead of begging for survival… She chooses revenge. Because if the world insists she is the villainess, then she will become one they cannot control. A woman who does not beg for love. A woman who builds power instead of tears. A woman who turns her ending into a beginning of destruction. And as she rises, something strange begins to happen. The male lead who once ignored her starts watching. The heroine who was supposed to replace her starts trembling. And the system that once promised her survival begins to warn her: [WARNING: Villainess behavior exceeds original plot limits.] But Elena is no longer afraid of the story. She is rewriting it. And this time… she will be the one they fear.

How wonderful will it be to turn back time and undo some of our worst mistakes, right? She is sent back in time after being betrayed by the people she loved the most. To redeem her lost glory by moving on or to become a villain in her own story by seeking revenge. ******* A low, unbearable grunt escapes Margarita's lips as she peels her eyes open. Her solemn face was expressionless as she looked around. 'Where is she?' she thought, still scanning the place. Dressed in a beautiful white, glamorous wedding dress that had diamonds attached to every inch of the hem of the floating gown. She realizes a white veil is dangling from her hair. Bone-crushing pain shot through her spine as memories from her past came rushing to her head at once. A shrieking yelp escapes her lips as she clutches tightly to her head, trying to stop seeing those images. Their betrayals. Her lover and her older sister had teamed up to send her to the afterlife. Images of how she'd wholeheartedly loved them flashed past, slapping her on the face as her core twisted in misery. Her eyes were wedged with tears, and her heart was bleeding from regret. Even her best friend joined in on her demise. Oh! If only she'd realized earlier that it was all a facade. If only she were giving us a chance to return to Earth. But she knew deep down that it was all wishful thinking. However, "Your wish has been fulfilled, Lady Margarita, to redeem your lost glory or to return as a villainess for revenge." She hears a voice deep in her subconscious… **Please support this shameless author by voting for the book if you like it.**

This is about revenge between a werewolf and a woman. Who will win? Or will they both fall for one another?

For five years, I fought illegal matches in an underground cage ring to scrape together enough money to repay the massive high-interest loan I had taken out to treat my son Luca’s illness. Dragging my still-dislocated left arm, I rushed to tell the father and son the good news. Yet when I reached the door, I saw the capo who managed the cage arena bowing low before my husband, Vicenzo. “Underboss, Eva said she’ll repay the loan in a few days. Do we still keep pretending to pressure her?” Vicenzo idly spun the Browning in his hand, the diamonds set into it worth enough to buy the entire cage arena. “No need. She’s suffered enough these past few years. Even when she had two ribs broken a few months ago, she didn’t dare tell us.” Elena, his sworn sister, seated beside him, let out a soft laugh. “Vicenzo, what if she’s a spy sent by a rival family? After all, you are the underboss of the Carlini family. “Besides, Luca has been pampered since he was little. How could he live with someone who reeks of blood?” My six-year-old son wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and echoed her words. “I don’t want a woman covered in scars as my mommy. Just looking at her wounds makes me feel sick.” Then he turned to her and pouted. “Aunt Elena, I wish you were my mommy.” Vicenzo hesitated only a moment before looking at them indulgently. “Then we’ll test her for another six months. If she remains this obedient, I’ll officially let her become part of the Carlini family.” I watched the farce with cold eyes, because to avoid frightening Vicenzo, the ordinary librarian I believed him to be, I had hidden my identity as the principessa of the Moretti family. Also, to keep from being found by my family and my fiancé, the Don of the Carlini family, I had not touched a single cent of family money. Instead, I chose to earn it with my fists in places piled with the dead. So it seemed my endurance and sacrifice were nothing more than a taming game in their eyes.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!