Hip Hop Rivalry Novels & Stories

“Yeah, is something wrong?” “Nothing, nothing at all. I'm just thrilled that I am going to meet him in person. He's like the best hockey player of all time.” I'm sure dad would be thrilled to hear that, especially from a Donovan. “You do know that my dad and yours are like rivals. They can't stand each other's guts.” “I know. It'll just be an honour to see him. He won't object, right?” I let out a short sigh. “I don't think he'd see it as a problem.”

"You can't go, Apollo! It's too dangerous! The Rogues could end up killing you!" He turned to her, his tone cold and indifferent. "Fighting the Rogues is my duty. Not to mention, they killed my mate. I'll never let them go." She screamed in anger, "You're doing all this for Nora! What's so special about her that you'd risk your life just to find her?" Apollo slung his backpack over his shoulder and said only one thing, "She's my destined mate. She's irreplaceable." With that, he led his team and flashed out of the pack, vanishing from sight in an instant.

Soren crouched down and scooped Vera up with one arm. His gaze swept over the scar on Vera's face. His brow furrowed deeply, the anger in his eyes nearly tangible. "Ha. So, this is how your werewolf pack treats a defenseless human?" Soren's voice rang out. A violent wind whipped through the area. The surrounding werewolves immediately went on high alert. Only Kieran remained standing where he was. Kieran said coldly, "Soren, you've brought a vampire army into our werewolf territory. Are you trying to start a war?"

My jaw tightened. I had seen his face before, countless times over the years. On screens. In newspapers. On banners and sponsorship deals. Every time his name came up beside mine, it was always the same narrative, rivalry. Competition. Two rising heirs destined to clash. But that was never what he was to me. Riko wasn’t just a rival that stole some of my brand deals. He wasn’t just competition that I needed to face on the field. He was my enemy. And one day, I was going to kill him myself.

“Yeah, man. It’s not like the Hawks and the Storm are sworn enemies. It’s you and Grant. The rest of us are cool.” “Exactly,” Malik said. “We’re at a retreat. We’re supposed to have fun. Chill. Party. Eat way too much breakfast food.” “And drink,” Damien added. “Obviously drink,” Malik said. I glanced around the table. “So… you’re telling me all this time, I’ve been thinking it’s this huge rivalry, and it’s just me and Mason?” Everyone nodded in unison. “Pretty much,” Avery said, biting into a muffin. I slumped back in my chair. “That’s… depressing.”

She didn’t even give a damn about the fact that my men were behind me. If anything, I know she’d go for my head given the chance. It was amusing. And also annoying as hell. Amara had been my rival for as long as I could remember. It dated as far back as when we were kids. It wasn’t just an individual rivalry though. This was a family rivalry. The Vitales and the DeLaurentis’ had been at each other’s necks for decades. Our rivalry was something born as a result of it. Even now that I’d taken then position of Don, it didn’t mean things would end just yet. I hated her and she hated me just at much. I hated her father Viktor and the rest of her brothers. Nothing could dissolve or change that. Th

I knew he wasn't just here to say congratulations, because if he was that's something actually new. “You ran well today,” Ryan added, casually like it didn’t cost him anything to say it taking a sip from his glass. “Yeah, I know,” I said, because I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of his feigned sincerity. Kyle whistled low. “And the rivalry continues.” That got a laugh from the team members, but Ryan didn’t even glance at them. He bit on his lips, his attention still locked on me, like the rest of the people here didn't matter.

They crashed onto the floor below, knocking over chairs as men scrambled away from them. Both were up again almost immediately, throwing punches, landing kicks, each hit carrying years of hatred. Of rivalry. Marco fought like a desperate man trying not to drown. While Rico fought like a man who had already come back from the dead. They circled each other through the wrecked hall, chests heaving, and blood on their faces, while gunfire still echoed around them. And everyone watching knew only one of them was walking out with power. "Ready to surrender?" Rico teased, a grin resting on his face, panting slowly.

"A friend, huh? They got experience?" "Some," I said vaguely. "So is it possible or not?" The tall guy shrugged. "I mean, technically, yeah. There's a hidden site where people register. But you'd have to be crazy to sign up this late." "Why?" "Because," the purple-haired girl said, "this race isn't about fun and games. It's about Gabriel and Paxton settling their rivalry once and for all. Everyone else is just cannon fodder." "Cannon fodder?" "Dead weight," the glasses guy explained. "People who think they can compete but end up eating dust or worse. The real race is between those two."

“Signed this morning. Official statement went out thirty minutes ago. And they didn’t stop there. They announced they’ll be competing for the bid. High-profile. Cocky. They basically said they’re going to crush everyone else.” For a second, all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears. The Devilles. Brandon’s family. Of course. I leaned forward, gripping the edge of my desk. “Smarthome was second only to us.” “Exactly,” Irene said. “And now they’re backed by Deville money and resources. Which means…” “They’re gunning for us,” I finished bitterly. Irene nodded, lips pursed. “They want to win, Cameron. Badly.”