Jean Claude Van Damme Joven Novels & Stories

Perhaps it was because I obtained Uncle Victor's whole attention on me. "If you don't prefer Dami, I have got lots of other young men t–" "Grandpa, this matter requires your opinion." A cold voice interrupted us. I looked up and recognised it was Damien. The eldest grandson of Victor Fernandez. The coldest of the three. His one look was enough to kill a few people. Cold, daunting, and dangerous. "Won't you see who's here to meet us, Dami?" "Hi." He barely glanced at me and pivoted his attention to his grandfather.

in front. I walked beside him. Kai and Wulfric flanked us. We dragged something behind us. Or rather, someone. Kai was dragging the limp body of High Elder Vane by his golden robes. Vane was alive— barely. He was drooling, his eyes vacant, his mind wiped clean by Leo’s touch. We stopped at the edge of the drilling platform. A mercenary captain stepped forward. He looked at Vane’s body. He looked at Damian. "Where is the High Elder?" the captain demanded, raising his rifle. Damian didn't draw a weapon. He stepped up to the microphone stand that Vane had used earlier. He tapped it. Thump-thump. The sound echoed through the crater speakers. "The High Elder has retired," Damian said. His voice

Damian said, and added “ This is life ” They parked near a shady alley and Damian stepped out of the driver’s seat. He wore a black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and combat boots. So far from royal robes and ceremonial armor he may as well have been someone else entirely. He was no longer a prince today. Just a twenty year old guy with too much energy and a hunger for something real, for his mate and freedom. “You look like the love interest in a high school drama,” Kevin smirked. “If the girls weren’t staring before, they definitely will now.”

“Sir, the young man says his sister’s name is Claire Montez.” “He claims she instructed him to personally deliver an email to you.” Damien’s expression remained calm. “Did he say what’s inside?” “No. He says he hasn’t opened it.” Damien was silent for a few seconds then he spoke. “Bring him inside.” Jules frowned. “Sir, We don’t know who he is. He could have been sent by one of your enemies for all we know.” Damien simply continued walking toward the entrance. “I said, bring him inside.”

“No more shadows between us.” He inserted the drive. The first file opened—a grainy video from years ago. A warehouse much like the one Crowe had used as a hideout. Jacob Cross, Damien’s brother, arguing heatedly with a younger Damien. Their voices were muffled but the anger was clear. “You’re going too far, Damien! People are going to die because of these deals!” Jacob shouted. Damien’s younger self looked cold, calculating. “Stay out of it, Jacob. This is how we survive.”

"What are you talking about?" Victor exhaled slowly. "The first time I met you..." "You were ten." Lucien's eyes widened. "You remember that?" "I remember everything." A memory surfaced. A charity gala. A nervous little boy standing beside his father. Damien kneeling to shake his hand. "One day," Damien had said with a smile, "you're going to grow into a remarkable young man." Lucien had never forgotten those words. Neither had Victor. "He saw something in you long before anyone else did."

Three guys and another girl sat together, all wearing black Damien was one of your stereotypical goth kids, wearing black clothes, eyeliner and silver jewellery. She imagined he was the mopey, self-obsessed and somewhat deluded type of goth guy. Then he spoke up and proved her wrong. "Is it safe to be hanging out with Valentino Shevchenko?" he asked with a sly grin. "I wish I knew some MMA," Jenna scoffed. "You do!" Damien cried as he got up and jumped into a dramatic re-enactment of her kick. The group of alternative kids chuckled, as did Jenna.

Damon stood by the glass, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking dangerous and hungry. “Close the door,” he ordered. She did. “Damon, about last night—” He moved fast. In two strides he had her pinned against the cool glass, her back to the city. His big hand yanked her skirt up roughly around her waist. “Shut up,” he growled. “I’ve been hard all day thinking about this dripping cunt.” Before she could argue, he dropped to his knees right there in his expensive suit. His strong hands ripped her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

Our next stop is at The Louvre Museum. We step out of the cab, still holding hands. Damien has been here a couple of times as a kid and as an adult. As a kid, he came with his family because his father is a painter who's obsessed with seeing masterpieces. As an adult, he came in the company of Vanessa and their friends who were photography students at the time. For some reason, that makes me a little jealous. The fact that he's done this before with the first love of his life who is still very present in his life.

He knew his seven year old self could do little to no harm to him but he'd still be willing to try as he didn't wish to be considered as incompetent. "Attack!" His uncle, who also happened to be his personal trainer yelled at him strictly and he immediately charged himself towards him. They both fought against one another, using both their bodies and strength although Matteo took it easy on his nephew as he knew he had the upper hand for being heftier and older. Damien on the other hand was quite impressive for a young lad his age. At such a young age and with such a small body, he has impressed the entire pack with his ability to tactically overpower his opponent even though his physical ap