Vance Black Phone Novels & Stories

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.

It was something I would never unsee if I mistakenly saw it. Then it rang. Out of instincts, I grabbed it and picked the call. "Who is this?" I said in a monotone voice. "Give me back my damn phone!" I flinched at the way the voice shouted. "I didn't steal it, you have mine." I rolled my eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. "I don't have time for your stupid games. I need that phone." He said. "You have no right to speak rudely to me. I can drop the phone in water you know." I frowned.

Vance's voice quickly makes me slam my phone backwards on the kitchen aisle where I'm sitting against it on a stool, looking at him like a kid who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. He raises an eyebrow at my spooked expression. “What are you doing?” He questions suspiciously, advancing on me. When I don't answer, he snatches my phone off the table and goes through the article. I watch as his face stays passive as he reads the article, then he returns the phone to me with a tsk. “The internet is the worst place to get answers,” he goes over to the fridge at the corner and grabs a bottle of them, then a glass from the locker and places it on the counter.

Damon Just a week ago, we had been sitting on the porch of a mountain cabin, planning our son’s upcoming sixth birthday. I was standing in the kitchen, pouring a fresh cup of coffee, while Mia was packing a small lunch for Jim before his morning preschool drop-off. My encrypted cell phone buzzed loudly against the marble kitchen island. I glanced down at the screen. The caller ID displayed a private, blocked number—the direct line for Vance, my trusted private investigator. I picked up the phone immediately, my thumb swiping the screen. "Vance. Talk to me."

' like seriously? 'No, you are not going to force anyone' Jack is just about to pull me when mr. Black's deep upset voice echoes in the hall. Phew! For once, I think I am thankful for Mr. Black's intrusion. At least, this can serve as a compensation for him being a total dick to me earlier this morning. 'In my office mr. Moore' Mr. Black says bossily and then turns back, probably going to his office with an annoyed expression. 'We are not done yet kitten.' Jack says with a victorious grin.

Zion frowned. "What have you done? I feel disgusted to even talk about it." Mr. Black rubbed his face before speaking, "You tried to rap a girl. I feel so ashamed. How can you forget with your IQ of 150+ that you have a wife? How can you be so low?" With that the colours on his face faded. That bitch made a complaint against him. She hasn't learnt her lesson yet. "Mom, give me Hannah's phone number." They heard him saying.

Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Shading Black is his first book and his first attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name: Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name: Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.

Winston blurted out before she could answer. I immediately dialed Mr. Carson’s number, it rang for long but there was no answer. Then I remembered that Mr. Vindell was one of his most important customers. I looked toward him. “Mr. Vindell, please could you call my boss so Vanessa can speak to him? If we don’t do it now, she might go back on her word.” He nodded. “Mr. Vincent, hold off on the blacklisting for now.” “Okay. I will be waiting to hear your decision.”

Was it one of Vance's other competitors making a move in the shadows? Just then, her phone vibrated. It was her mother, Susan. Katherine frowned and answered on speaker. "Katherine! Oh my god, why is my investment fund down so much today!" Susan's signature anxious, complaining voice came through. "The fund manager said it was dragged down by something called Vance Capital! I told you, your luck has been bad lately, stay away from that Vance man. Now look, you've jinxed the entire Wall Street's fortune! Did you wear that black outfit out again? I've told you before, black is unlucky!"