Vance Hopper Black Phone Novels & Stories

I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand, trying to clear my thoughts. After a moment of silence, I met his gaze again. “Fine,” I said, my voice softer this time, though still carrying a tinge of irritation. “You want to make it up to me? Take me somewhere decent. But this isn’t me forgiving you. This is just... you getting me out of the street for a bit. Got it?” His eyes lit up, but his smile was small, careful, as though he wasn’t sure if he had truly won me over or if I was just humoring him. “Got it,” he said, stepping back toward the car. “I’m Vance, by the way. Vance Black.”

A black van parked at the end of the block , I hastened my movements, making careful strides towards it . The door opened to reveal two men in black, one on the driver's seat , and the other staring at me , he quickly held his hand out forward expressionlessly , I reached through my pockets , pulling out my phone I handed it over , without a second of haste he split my phone in half. yanking me into the Van, we sped off to the nearest airport. Let me retrace my steps , my name is Hailey Carter, I'm 21 , and this is my story .

This wasn’t business. This was Belle. The tension in the room felt heavier than any deal he had ever handled. If only that message would arrive—everything would be over in an instant. Minutes stretched on in suffocating silence, broken only by the ticking clock. Then Pete’s phone vibrated. He froze. Swallowing hard, he unlocked the screen with slightly trembling fingers and read the message that had just appeared. “The sparrow will return to its nest.” Pete exhaled sharply, relief washing over him.

Nelson begged Zachary, and he nodded his head. “My Grandma is just a VIP member,” I tried to explain. It wasn’t possible to just become a VVVIP member without spending your entire fortune. “Maybe your wife is the VVVIP member,” Zachary shrugged his shoulders. That made sense, she left with Grandma. Nelson handed me my phone when it began to ring. I picked it and it was an unknown number. “Mr Beckham Henderson,” The voice was altered like a computer voice. I immediately put the phone on record, placed it on speaker mode,, and dropped it on the table.

he said with a small smile on his face that immediately faded once he saw my facial expression. "No I meant, I wanted to offer you a job, now that I heard you've been fired it's just right timing" he blurted out quickly and nervously , playing with the end of his blazer, boring holed into the side walk. His hand went into his blazer and he pulled out a white card, handing it over to me and I hesitantly took it. My eyes fell on the words "BLACK EMPIRE" written boldly in gold cursive.

One bar of service had crept back onto the display. A text message flashed from the unknown number. *Vance knows about the cave-in. She knows the mercenaries are dead. She is calling in the local air grid. They are tracking the satellite signal from your phone right now. Before I could press the power button, the phone started to ring. The screen showed Vance’s private office number. I looked at Dominic. He nodded once, his face grim in the blue light. I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear. I didn't say anything.

It was Vance. "Speak," I said, my voice sounding like gravel. "Boss, we found a phone left at the edge of the property line back at the club," Vance said. "It was in a lead box so it wouldn't get fried by the blast. There was only one message on it." "Read it." Vance hesitated for a second. "It says... 'How do you like my present, Andreas? I hope it burned just right.'" I gripped the phone so hard the screen began to spiderweb. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching my teeth.

Lachlan Vance POV The clock read 4:15 AM. I moved through the room without turning on a single light, silent as I could make myself. In the bathroom, I ran the shower to a low, steady drizzle enough white noise to cover any sound and pulled a heavy black duffel bag out of the closet. In the false bottom, wrapped in a layer of signal-blocking mesh, was a prepaid phone. I kept it for the kind of acquisitions that never touched a paper trail a device with no link to the Vance network, and no link to Callan's surveillance.

“You stole something from me. You tried to deliver it. Tell me who gave you the fucky order.” The man’s lips trembled. He coughed, blood flecking his teeth. “You don’t understand. He’s worse than you.” “I’ll take that as a compliment. Speak.” He broke. Just like that. Whispers cracked out of him like leaking steam. “Vance. Vance Halifax. He—he worked for Blackwell. Fired for laundering. He’s been building an alliance. Clara. That woman claiming she’s pregnant. Some on the board. He said you’d be too in love with your fake wife to see the knife coming.”

And they would not stop until everyone around them was burned down to the ground. The dark office was very quiet. The only sound was the low hum of the air conditioner on the wall. Evander held his black phone very tight in his hand. His thumb pressed the green call button. He put the phone to his ear and waited. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. "Come on, pick up," Evander whispered through his teeth, his eyes wide and wild. On the other end of the line, a heavy, tired grunt finally answered. "Yeah? What do you want now, Mr. Vance?" the private helper asked. His voice sounded like he had just woken up from a deep sleep. "It is still early. Did you forget what I told you last night? You are