Vance Black Phone Novels & Stories

ACCESS GRANTED. The heavy double doors hissed softly, unlocking and sliding open into the dark study. Daphne glided inside, closing the doors behind her. She walked straight around the massive mahogany desk, tapping the central glass terminal. The screen illuminated in the dark room, displaying the master database of Vance Enterprises. She pulled the black satellite phone from her robe pocket, plugging a thin, high-speed data transfer cable into the terminal's secondary port. Her fingers flew across the glass interface with scary, practiced precision—far from the helpless girl who claimed she couldn't operate a computer.

There was a flash of steel, a sickening thwack, and Korg’s head was severed from his body before he could even howl. ‎ ‎I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a scream. ‎ ‎"Holy..." Vance breathed, his face draining of all color. He dropped the radio and drew his silver-plated handgun. "Stay down, Miss Black. Do not open this door." ‎ ‎"Vance, don't go out there!" I begged, grabbing his sleeve. ‎ ‎"I have to hold the line," he said, his voice shaking. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the carnage. "If they get to you... Magnus will skin me alive."

Nothing. Then he heard it—the rhythmic, low hum of a secure satellite phone vibrating against the glass coffee table in the study. Arthur’s chest tightened. That phone belonged to a closed network. It was an emergency frequency known only to three people: himself, Vivian, and Director Vance of Interpol’s black-ops division.

And the most cataclysmic thing was, I was not afraid of having witness Madeline's murder. Yes it left an impact on me, I still shivered whenever her dead lifeless eyes drifted in my vision but.. I was more scared of Marienne. As soon as the the police enquiry session had come to an end, I ran straight to my flat, brought out my laptop and tried to find as much as information I could manage about them. And what I found about them wasn't shocking but still, it chilled me to the core. Marienne Carlisle Victor. A French-American businessman, who is best known for his ruthless statistics and strategies in the corporate world. Devilishly handsome looking but taken from at the age of 19. Well known

Veronica pick up her phone and decide to call Kyler, the phone rings on the other side for so long and nobody pick up She try his office desk phone and it rings twice before it is finally answered and Alex's voice came in "This is Black corporation...." "Is Kyler there?" Veronica cut him short "No ma'am, he has matters to take care of outside the company" he answered "What matters?" "That is confidential unless President Black want me to tell you" "It's fine I get it" she said and hang up the call. She thought quick and dialed another number, the call was picked on the first ring "Good evening Mrs. Black" an exhilarate voice greeted "Hi Emilia, is my husband in the office?"

But the images, along with how he behaves whenever I brought up the topic of Julia burned into my eyes and my head, louder than reason, sharper than trust. Before I could respond, my phone buzzed across the table. The sound sliced through the tension like a knife. I wiped my tears, glanced at the screen and froze. “Who is it?” Lenny asked cautiously. My stomach sank. “Vance.” Her brows knitted together instantly. “Don’t answer it. Remember what Zachary instructed.” Her last words were the reason I reached an immediate decision. My hand moved before my resolve could weaken. I swiped to accept the call and pressed it to my ear.

“I want to confirm something.” The driver nodded. “Yes, sir.” --- At that same moment, in a dark van parked near the highway lounge, two men were waiting. One of them checked his watch. “He should be here soon,” he said. The other man nodded. “Boss said we grab him fast. No mistakes.” They looked at the entrance of the lounge, waiting for a black luxury car to arrive. But the road stayed empty. --- Back in the rented room, Vance’s phone rang. He picked it up.

"Buy me time, Davis. One night. That’s all I—" "No. Don't call this number again. In fact, forget I ever existed." "If I go down, Davis, I’m taking your 'clean' reputation to the grave with me." "Try it," Davis hissed. "Dead women don't testify. Goodbye, Val." The line went dead. Valentina looked at the phone, then at the empty courtyard. Vance crouched behind a dumpster, his radio crackling with static. "Target in sight. Back exit on 4th," Vance whispered.

Click. Without waiting for a response or another round of curses from the furious man, Vivienne immediately ended the call. She tossed her phone back onto the desk with an indifferent motion, then rose to make herself a cup of hot tea, completely unconcerned about the storm of emotions she had just unleashed across the city. Meanwhile, in the living room of his luxurious apartment, Julian Vance stared at the phone screen that had suddenly gone dark, his eyes widening completely. His jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles around his cheeks bulged fiercely.

Hand outstretched, “I can put it in your phone?” I beamed at him, “Yeah, sure.” I don’t think I will find myself actually running to a guy about this Vance creep, but my god, he wants to share numbers! I handed him my cell, opened to the keypad page. He typed in some numbers and hit the ‘call’ button. The phone in his pocket started vibrating and he answered it.