Blade Villains Novels & Stories

“Dontrell wouldn’t possibly do all this just for power.” “There’s no reason!” Clayton roared, slamming the table so hard I flinched. “He’s just evil. Most kingpins I know who choose to be a villain always have a sad backstory or a broken past. him, he has none. There are no excuses for him; he just wants to be the last Blade standing in any book of record – power, fame, domination, influence, money – he wants to expand his horizon, and he can’t do that with my father or me still here to be in his way.” Tears rolled down my cheek as he spoke. “He’s not a fallen angel—he’s a damn demon in disguise.” I snapped. “And you think you’re any better? You’re no angel, Clayton!”

“The fear, the respect, the loyalty of men like Marco and Leo… that you must earn every day. The Trust gives you the keys to the vault. But you must still command the army that guards it. I have no doubt you will.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “There is one final piece. One that cannot be written into any trust. The Bianchi name. It is a name of fear and history. When the time comes, you will take it. Not because you must, but because it is fitting. Jay Bianchi. It has a… permanence.” He was offering a name. A history. A bloody, brutal crown to go with the pristine keys of the Trust.

He places his hand on his shoulder and smiles unwilling to let him go. "Grandpa, I really need your help." Blake hangs his head, his eyes threatening to perk with tears. "What's going on Blake?" Blake's grandpa frowns, his voice going from a cheerful tone to a more melancholic tone. "Grandpa, those archives you told me to look over, you were right. You were right about all of them. There's a vampire by the name of Damian who is seeking revenge on our pack. But that's not the only thing I fear." He sits with his grandfather inside at the table.

“The Dominican Republic is a small piece, but it’s a useful one. We have our men there. I’ll make sure they know about Marcellus’ little scheme.” “And then?” Keith asks, his tone curious. “And then we let him walk into his trap,” I say, a cold smile forming on my lips. Keith nods, clearly satisfied with my plan. I turn back to Nate. “Shut it off. We’ve heard enough.” Nate clicks a few buttons and the screen goes dark. The room feels quieter now. Keith looks at me. “Ally with other mafias?” he says, shaking his head. “Does he really think they will trust him?”

The smoke of tobacco filled the room, giving it a darkness that showed the impending conflict. Just like the Blood Moon Cartel, the Raven's Eye had a high ranking in the mafia's hierarchy. The boss, Lord Venom, just like Aurelio, exuded a dangerous aura, and he had a strong thing against Aurelio. He was in his room, a thin layer of folds in between his lips as he stared at one person's picture on his phone, Aurelio. His eyes burned with deep hatred, cold and menacing. The door to his Villa opened and Radar, his right-hand man, walked in. He bowed, awaiting Lord Venom's reply.

With every bit of strength he had left in him, he kept saying the spell, even though his voice was getting weaker with each word he spoke. "Dekekrankem delenfoouud." "Please," he cried out, his sight becoming fuzzy. "Please, just let her be safe." Everything around him started to spin like a dizzying ride, and he felt his consciousness beginning to break apart. But he fought to stay focused, determined not to let go until he knew his baby daughter was out of danger. Finally, with one last push, he whispered the final part of the incantation. In a bright flash of light, the baby vanished, leaving Draven all alone in the temple. He fell to the floor, his body shaking as blood continued to flow

Good. “Where’s Ethan?” A pause. “Why?” “Because someone’s trying to burn this company down from the inside,” Jaxon said coldly. “And if it’s not you, it’s him.” Vanessa exhaled slowly. “I’ll find him.” The line went dead. Gabriel whistled low. “Family dinners are gonna be fun this year.” Jaxon didn’t smile. He was already moving, heart pounding. The enemy wasn’t outside the gates. They were inside. And if there was one thing Jaxon Hawthorne never did, it was lose control.

"Didn't get to catch him though. Bastard was fast. Got away before I could even see his face." I sat there, uncertain. The words hung heavy in the air, but not quite enough to clear it. I shouldn't believe that. But... at least he answered my question. Unlike... Dante. "So you're saying," I began, my voice low, measured, "all of this—the tunnel, the notes, the fake footage, the guards—it's just one person?" Damien didn't answer right away. Then he looked up. And in that single look, I could see the same helplessness I felt clawing inside me.

Turning back to Mikial, she asked, “What are you going to do if Flynn is the man Leon wants to set up as a silent partner? Both men are dangerous enough you won’t be able to turn them down without consequences.” “The five of us are dangerous too,” Mikial reminded her. “We have ties to real power that we can bring down on them so fast, they won’t even see us coming. They cannot imagine our real power. We are part of something much bigger than anyone here realizes. We just have no need to talk about it and it goes much deeper than you think. The Bratva is more than a way of life to its members. Like your Italian or Irish mobs, the Bratva is stronger than we portray and like them, we believe in