Vic Fuentes Somebody That I Used To Know Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Not anymore.” 10:00 a.m. – Hospital Mamá was sitting up, eating jello, her smile bright as the morning sun through the window. Elena hugged her, tears falling. Alexander stood by, his hand on my shoulder, pride in his eyes. The FBI confirmed: Victor’s cloud was wiped, his copies gone, my final hack, a virus I’d planted in his burner. The drive was ours, its secrets dead. Mamá pulled me close, her voice soft. “You’re my hero, Marco. Javier’s proud.”

"Do you recognize any of these men?" I looked through them. Most were strangers. But two faces were familiar. "This one," I pointed. "He came to the office several times. Ethan always met with him privately." "That's Victor Marchetti. He's connected to the Castellano crime family." Rodriguez made a note. "When did you see him?" "About eighteen months ago. Maybe more." "And this one?" "I only saw him once. But I remember because Ethan was nervous after that meeting. More paranoid than usual."

One of the enforcers hummed and asked, "And the target?" He was a man I faintly recognised. Vadim was his name, if my memory serves me right. We'd never truly met but I remembered seeing traces of him in those high end galas that I was forced to attend. He traced a digital map of the city. "If Jace tries to counter-hack, do we drop the hub?"

Vito cackled. “What?” Serenity breathed, disbelief lacing her tone. “It’s a real pity, if the man wasn’t dead I would have killed him myself for lying to me, but alas.” Vito leaned against his desk and shrugged. “You were involved with Fernando Garcia?” Serenity stated more than asked, but the shock that was running through her system was too great to ignore. “Oh, you didn’t know that?” Vito’s smirk widened and he shook his head, “You should have just minded your own business.” he ‘tsked’.

I just needed Matteo to find out if he was telling the truth before I killed him myself. My phone rang just then and I picked up immediatel. "Vince, perfect timing. Where is Matteo?" I asked. "I'm not sure, I'm not in the resort right now. I'm busy chasing that lead." He explained. "I see, Do we know a Don Violo?" I inquired from him. Vincent knew everyone and everybody. He was basically my Intel. "No, why? You in trouble?' he asked, worry lacing his usually calm and soothing voice.

For a moment, I thought that would be enough. That it would end there. But Victor never knows when to stop. He pivoted. Started talking about a “friend.” A powerful man. A foolish man. A man whose wife was sleeping with his brother behind his back. The moment the words left his mouth— They echoed inside my skull. I know Victor. He doesn’t have friends outside the children raised under La Camorra’s shadow. And he doesn’t speak without intention. He’s been digging. Watching. Listening. He knows something.

"I'm always serious." "What about Russell? The truce." "Truce is done." Another silence, longer this time. "What's the catch." "You still have connections in Venezuela?" A short, brittle laugh. "Who is it." "Victor Madden." The silence that followed had texture to it. When the man spoke again his voice had changed entirely, stripped clean of anything casual. "I'd take him to La Sabaneta myself." "Then pack your bags, Felipe. I'll be in touch." Eli ended the call. He deleted the number, set the phone face-down on the chaise lounge, and stood for a moment looking at the lightening city.

“I deserve to know the truth. I deserve to know if you’ve endangered our lives.” “Fine,” he let out a reluctant sigh. “I went to someone for help.” Someone wouldn’t just have $100 million in cash lying around. It had to be someone dangerous. And I guess I had a slight idea who it might be. “Who?” I raised a skeptical brow at him. He hesitated for a while before he responded. “Vincenzo Morello.” My heart skipped a beat. “What?” I heard stories about him. I knew Grayson was involved with him while he was still in college.

Instead, I know exactly what she thinks of the fucking coward (her words) who did this to her. Four months. It took me longer than I expected to track down the person responsible for Victor’s and Cindy’s deaths. I give Diego Fernandez credit for evading me for so long. His stupidity was thinking he would get away with it. He’s a semi-small player in northern California and he’ll regret the day he put his fucking toes in Victor’s territory. One by one he and his men will die. I don’t care how long it takes. The woman downstairs will be the first to suffer.

You exaggerate! She shrugged, a smirk. - So who? I took a great inspiration before letting go of the bomb. - Victor. She raised an eyebrow. - Victor who? - Victor Aldrich. His expression immediately went from indifference to total surprise. - WHAT ?! she exclaimed, finally putting her phone. Our Victor?! I gave vigorously, always overexcited. - Yes ! Our childhood friend! He is now CEO of a large business and ... what do you know? It was he whom I met for my interview!