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Remember me? A revenge story

the_blacklilly
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
They were her world - her ride-or-die girls, her soulmate, her safe place. Until they turned her life into hell. Aliza was once the vibrant, carefree girl lighting up her college campus. But everything crashes when her closest friends - Rhea, Sana, and Meher - rip her reputation apart. Whispers become screams, lies become legacy, and the halls she once laughed in now echo with judgment. And Aryan - the boy she loved, the boy she begged - walked away without looking back. Publicly shamed. Emotionally wrecked. Utterly alone. But pain? That became her power. Years later, the girl they buried under rumors returns - not just alive, but unbreakable. Aliza isn't here to forgive. She's here to dominate. With wealth, influence, and a name that now commands fear... She's not out for closure. She's out for ruin. "You thought you destroyed me? You were just the beginning."
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Chapter 1 - Her Ruin

"Forgive me, Aliza... please," Aryan's voice cracked as he fell to his knees.

His white shirt was drenched in sweat,

His eyes — filled with pain and fear.

His entire body trembled, shaking violently,

As if death itself was approaching.

I stood in front of him, heels clicking against the marble of my office lobby. The same boy who once walked away from me — walked away while I begged — was now crawling in front of me, shattered and begging for forgiveness

"Do you remember the last time I begged?"

My voice was calm. Deadly calm.

"I cried. Fainted. Pleaded for you to stay. But you turned your back. Just like them."

Aryan's eyes welled up. "I didn't know... I was scared, I—"

"No," I cut him off, tilting her chin.

"You were cruel.",

"Remember when you said, 'You're not strong. I want a strong girl'?" I chuckled, laced with sarcasm.

"Look who's strong now," I said, striking him hard across the face with my fist.

He did nothing but lie there, helpless on the ground.

"Oh no... are you crying?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"Please, Aliza. Stop... You weren't like this," he murmured in a trembling voice.

"Oh, but you used to say crying is weak. Now you are weak. Becoming the person standing in front of you took everything — all the pain, all the betrayal you all gave me," I said coldly.

I walked closer to him, grabbed his chin with just enough force to make him look up, and pulled myself toward him.

His breath, warm and shallow, brushed against my lips. For a moment—just a split second—something inside me softened. Even after everything he did to me, I still felt that maddening, inexplicable pull. His eyes locked onto mine, desperate, burning with a need that betrayed everything he'd ever said or done. It was as if he wanted to forget the pain, the cruelty, the distance—and just kiss me like nothing ever broke between us.

The urge to ruin him with one touch surged through me. But I wasn't here for love. Not anymore.

I leaned in, closer still, until our foreheads almost touched. My gaze didn't waver as I slowly wiped the blood trailing from the corner of his lips, then—deliberately—pressed my tongue lightly across the cut. He shivered beneath the touch.

His eyes widened. Shock. Confusion. Maybe even hope. Pathetic.

He looked like a man who thought he'd just escaped destruction—with a kiss. Was he really that foolish?

"I could ask you to take off your shirt," I whispered near his ear, the corners of my mouth curling up. "Just to see your abs like I used to."

I giggled darkly, the sound low and sharp.

"You're cruel," he tried to snap, but his voice was hoarse, trembling. Powerless.

I tilted his chin higher, forcing him to meet my eyes again. "No," I said with a whisper laced in fire. "I'm what you made me."

"Make sure you divorce your wife, before I make her divorce you". I said.

Around us, my empire buzzed — news articles, guards waiting outside silently, the black Bentley waiting behind the glass doors.

"Take care of him, make sure he doesn't meet his wife" I shouted to one of my bodyguards.

I turned to leave.

"Please, forgive me, Please!" The bodyguards takes him away from the office.

"You'll never see me beg again." I tell to myself.

5 YEARS AGO 

"Rhea, stop moving! I swear your eyeliner's going to touch your forehead at this rate!"

I giggled, gently tilting my best friend's chin back.

Rhea rolled her eyes. "Blame your steady hand, not my excitement. It's Aditya Roy Kapoor performing tonight!"

Across the room, Sana was hopping around trying to get into her glittery dress. "Why are these sleeves so tight? Meher! Why did you even lend me this torture device?"

Meher, already half-ready and digging through her lipstick pouch, groaned. "You begged me for it! Now suffer and sparkle."

The room was chaos — in the best way. Bright fairy lights tangled around the windows, makeup scattered across the bed, curling irons hissing, laughter echoing. Meher's hostel room looked like a war zone of friendship and blush palettes.

I carefully swiped a highlighter on Rhea's cheekbone and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. For once, she didn't care about the messy bed or the pending assignments. Tonight was for music, dancing, selfies, and feeling like the queens of the campus.

"Okay okay okay!" Meher shouted, finally grabbing her earrings. "Let's go or we'll miss the opening act!"

Sana struck a pose. "Wait! Group selfie first!"

"Obviously," Rhea said, fluffing her hair. "Aliza, you better not cut off anyone's head this time."

The girls huddled together, their cheeks touching, smiles wide — frozen forever in the camera flash. A perfect memory. A perfect night.

The bass echoed through the campus grounds as lights flickered over the crowd.

It wasn't just a fest — it was the night they'd all waited for. Music. Laughter. Freedom.

I twirled on the makeshift dance floor, my black off-shoulder top clinging just right, silver hoops catching the light as she spun. Sana, in high-waisted jeans and a sequin crop top, was dancing like no one was watching — and people definitely were.

"Move over, I need space to slay!" Rhea shouted, adjusting her leather jacket and striking a fake runway pose.

Meher was glued to her phone, capturing clips for her story in a tight maroon bodycon dress and heels that were way too ambitious for college concrete.

"Meher, stop recording us and come vibe!" I yelled over the music.

"I need at least one story where I look hot!" she replied, still posing with a pout.

The girls danced until they were breathless — eyeliner smudged, hair wild, heels in hand. It was one of those rare nights where everything felt golden.

Until...

"Ahh! Fuck!" Meher cried out, tripping on a curb near the sound booth.

I and Sana ran to her as she collapsed, clutching her ankle.

"Oh no no no... Did you twist it?" Sana asked, squatting beside her.

"Of course I did! These bloody heels!" Meher hissed.

"This is why I wore sneakers," Rhea muttered.

"I can't walk like this," Meher groaned.

"Alright,"I said, grabbing her arm. "Come on, Sana — help me lift our drama queen."

"You got it," Sana nodded, looping Meher's other arm over her shoulder.

Rhea sighed. "I'm going to my room. I'll check on you in the morning. Try not to cry too loud."

With a lot of grunts, limping, and laughter in between, the three of us finally made it to Meher's hostel room.

Later that night...

Meher lay stretched out on her bed, her ankle elevated with a towel under it and ice in a ziplock.

"You're babysitting me?" she asked, eyes half-shut.

I, still in my crop top and joggers now, collapsed beside her on the mattress. "Obviously. You break it, I fix it."

Meher smiled. "Thanks, Lizzy."

"Shut up and sleep before I push you off the bed," I grinned.

Sana leaned in through the doorframe. "You two good?"

"All set," I waved.

"Cool. I'm dead tired. See you losers tomorrow." Sana disappeared into the hallway.

As the dorm lights dimmed and the fest finally quieted outside, Meher fell asleep murmuring something about food, and I stared at the ceiling and didn't even know when I fell asleep.