Author Michael Vey Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Lockdown Tokyo systems. Full encryption reset. I want every file mirrored to my private server. No one moves without my authorization.” Mia nodded, already typing. Gabriel chuckled. “You really think Vanessa would be that sloppy?” Jaxon ignored him and stalked toward the main office, Gabriel following like a shadow. “Jaxon,” Gabriel drawled, “Vanessa’s smart, but she’s not reckless. If she wanted to sabotage you, she’d have buried the trail so deep you’d need a goddamn excavation team to find it.” “Then who?” Jaxon snapped, rounding on him. Gabriel’s smirk widened. “Why don’t you ask Ethan Sterling? He’s been making a lot of late-night calls. Some to board members. Some to…certain competito

He said as he pushed my food closer to me. "Only if you tell me what happened while I eat." I grumbled. "Fine, please just eat." He sighed. I picked up my spoon, shoved a small amount of food in my mouth and gave him a 'start talking' look. "Where do I begin?" He mumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Beatrice and Michael were subtle but not subtle enough, nor did they have the influence they thought they had in Vipers. What gave them a little bit of power was Alexander's network of criminals. Their secrets weren't as secret as they thought either. I've known Michael wasn't my son for years."

Samuel said in frustration. Michael calmly continued, “Do you know who Violet Cress is?” “Who?” Samuel was utterly puzzled. Did Michael know who Violet Cress was? Moreover, he felt on edge. He was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information he had uncovered and the emotional rollercoaster he had been on Michael calmly looked at Samuel and said deliberately, “Violet Cress is your least favorite person.” Samuel was bewildered. He was completely flustered and stood up abruptly. “Is Violet Cress my business rival?! Oh no! Oh no! What am I going to do now?”

Then she nodded her head, standing and pushing him away from her. “You don’t have to breath down my neck to threaten me.” She said boldly to him. “I understand you perfectly well.” “Good.” Aaron said. “Now, a few tips.” He continued, occupying the chair she just vacated. “Michael is the character you avoid with your life. Make sure he doesn’t have much to drink and when I mean much, two glasses. Avery is light headed, so he doesn’t handle alcohol quite well. Keep him away from alcohol and you never see Michael.”

The weight of the moment settled between us, heavy as the humid air that hugged the lake's surface outside our secluded corner. "Roanne," he said, his voice a low hum vibration through the charged space, “you did not see me, but I saw you… I am Violet’s friend, but more than that, I am a senior member of the Revenge Club. When I read your name in the email, I knew exactly who you were.” I was caught, again, by surprise. Michael held more secrets than the ones he was revealing to me. What could have made him join the club? What had he gone through to get there?

Michael called me and said, "I got the magical alarm, who did you kill, Drax?" I replied, "Rogues," and he said, "Is the blood lust over or do you need me to come down there and suck your cock?" I cursed him, "Fuck off, you fucking fairy, my cock is too good for you." Michael laughed and said, "I am still stationed in Europe for a few more years, so be good." I told him I was good after he had sung to me to calm me down. My instinct is always to go to Michael for anything, even with my blood lust, I killed so many rogues, I was a raging bloodaholic, and I trust him with my life still after all these years. He hug me for fifteen minutes when I came back, and I must say I had missed the fuckin

But Victor was already at work, and the house was quiet. I padded over to the door barefoot, opened it just enough to peek through. And there he was. He stood tall, dressed in black, shirt rolled to his elbows, pants fitted but modest. His skin was a rich brown, smooth, stretched over lean muscles that didn’t quite fit the image of a house driver. He looked like he belonged in a security convoy, not behind the wheel of a domestic car. “I’m Michael,” he said. His voice was low and calm. “Mr. Victor asked me to report this morning.”

type gesture, and was about to take a swig, when Michael interrupted. “Whoa! Hold on, hold on!” He jumped into the center of our little circle, his hands clamped around several little test tubes, filled with a blue liquid. He began passing them out, and once everyone in our group had one, he continued, “I figured we’d all do a shot in honor of Danni’s 18th!” Danni looked at the vial in her hand questioningly. “What is it?” “It’s a blue kamikaze.” He replied. “Trust me, it’s good.” He flipped the top off of his with his thumb, and held it out, as he glanced around at the group. “Well?”

But Michael was already shaking his head before I finished talking. “This isn't about Levi,” he replied, sounding totally convinced. “What makes you say that?” I questioned with a frown, just as a sneaky suspicion crept up my spine. The way Levi had answered my questions just a little too fast and how he sometimes avoided eye contact... Don't tell me it was because he--- “Because Levi wasn’t the target,” Michael sighed, and finally his gaze met mine. “You were!” Erm--- “What?!”

He held up the key, his expression so guileless, so purely Griffin, that I felt my heart fracture along new fault lines. The walls of the supposedly secure villa closed in, the picturesque safehouse suddenly as confining as a prison cell. The Mediterranean breeze through the window carried the scent of bougainvillea and salt, but beneath it lurked something colder, something that smelled of laboratories and ambition and Michael's particular brand of ruthlessness. Michael might be dead—his body lost to the depths, his empire dismantled, his name becoming synonymous with corporate fraud and hubris. But his masterpiece was just waking up.