Vic Fuentes Kellin Quinn Novels & Stories

Xavier’s tone turned icy. Hearing his cold voice, Victor chuckled. "I’m the closest man to Quinny. And who are you?" After ordering, Quinn had gone to the restroom, so she wasn’t back yet. "Who exactly are you?" Who was she with? Just then, Quinn returned and saw Victor answering her phone. She frowned. "Give me the phone."

"Already in motion. I've got people watching her known associates. The moment she reaches out to anyone, we'll know." "What about her business partner? The human?" "Fern Kilpatrick. She's clean. Doesn't know anything about the supernatural world." Vaughn pauses. "Should I bring her in?" "Not yet. But keep your eyes on her. If Jamie gets desperate, she might reach out." Quentin ends the call. One more call to make. The phone rings three times before someone answers. "Yes?" "This is Quentin Ashford. I need your services." "For what?" "A hunt. Dragon Queen bloodline. Two children, ages four." He sends files. "I'm paying triple your usual rate."

Ivy was gone, Victor was unhinged, and their lives had narrowed down to one impossible mission: take them down. Killian sat at the small desk his uncle Mark had set up, a laptop open, phone to one ear, and a small stack of folders at his side. Contacts in law enforcement, private investigators, hackers, and local informants filled his call list. Every second felt precious, every connection vital. He moved like a man possessed, dialing numbers, taking notes, and sifting through intelligence.

“Maybe. But if I don’t go, I’ll never know what I am. I’ll never stop Lorne. And I’ll never be free.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You really want to do this?” “Yes.” He grinned. “Then let’s make it messy.” --- Elsewhere… Vincent was already two steps ahead. Sitting in a diner that hadn’t changed since the '80s, he slid a USB across the table to an older woman with sharp eyes and sharper cheekbones. Cassie Crane. Ex-agent. Rogue wolf. And hacker extraordinaire. “You sure you want back in?” he asked.

I remarked, and she scoffed. “Lauren told me that it was Vincent who found her when she was having an episode. So, nope. Vincent wasn’t the trigger.” She replied firmly. “I am glad that you are her friend, Joyce, but this is something that you shouldn’t know. The danger we always sensed around her is ……. Is far more dangerous than we had anticipated,” I spoke in a soft but firm voice, trying to make her understand that more information can put her life in danger. “Do you know that the assassin Lauren killed was from a cult on the dark web?” she asked me while tilting her head a little.

"No. This way, I prove infidelity, prove she's unstable and manipulative. I keep everything, and she gets nothing." "What about your friends?" Jessica's voice held genuine curiosity. "Don't you care that they're sleeping with your wife?" "They're not really my friends." Vincent's tone turned cold. "Kieran is a useful connection with information I needed. And Nikolai, well, he serves a different purpose entirely." In the closet, Kieran's body went rigid against mine. I felt his shock mirroring my own. "You're more ruthless than I realized." Jessica sounded almost admiring. "I like it."

I parked and stayed in the dark for a long time, then I made my way straight into my study and banged the doors shut; the noise echoed down the hallway. Inside the study, I poured myself two shots of whisky from my collection, taking the drink at once as I felt the burning sensation down my chest. On the third shot, I ran my hands across my keyboard, typing Selene's name into my search console. SELENE QUINN The screen flooded with images. There are so many pictures of her in the press interviews. Her name is on the patents, even keynote panels. Thousands of photos of her and Kairo together creating memories.

Sometimes it was Zora calling others, someone else. Quinten didn't give a fuck. Which was no doubt a problem. But he could only work on one thing at a time. He dialed the detective's number and put it on speaker. Candi leaned back against the door, biting her lower lip. "Wilson," a weary voice said on the other end of the line. "Detective Wilson?" Quinten asked. "This is he." "Hi, I'm Quinten Joon from the CIA." Was that a slight groan he heard from Wilson? "I was calling about-"

“What about the intern?” Karina blinked, startled. “What?” Wilfred patiently repeated, “The intern who instigated all of this—where is she? Since you weren’t the mastermind, we need to track down who was and get some answers.” After all, someone had plotted to take those photos, and Wilfred had no idea what they planned to do with them. Realizing what he meant, Karina hurriedly provided the details of the intern, including the messaging app account she had given him. “I think her last name is Quinn. She joined the hospital recently. You might not remember her, Dr. Wilfred.”

"I'm Valeria Montecillo, daughter of Celeste Montecillo. I have proof of corruption in MonteTech. I have proof of illegal smuggling of tech, murder… terror." A sudden silence. An agent stepped forward. "You're requesting witness protection?" She nodded her head. She pulled out a flash drive with blood on it—the last copy from the vault. "I'm calling for action. I want Sebastian Virelli found. And when you do…" Her voice broke like thunder. "You bury him." INT. KC'S OFFICE — LATE NIGHT Files littered his desk—photos, court reports, digital forensic maps. Kc hadn't slept in two days. His stubble had become a beard, his eyes bloodshot, but fire still burned in them.