Vic Fuentes Young Novels & Stories

I was in an abandoned building scheduled for remodeling and I was looking through the scope of a Barrett M82. It was a beautiful rifle and it could hit a mark one thousand five hundred yards away. I was lying on a wooden work table and my target was Phillip Young, an investment trader from New York, who made his money skimming from his clients. On the side, Phillip liked young boys and cocaine. I received an encrypted file with all the relevant information and images of my target. The rest was up to me, the where and how, unless the how was specifically requested. I confirmed death immediately after and got paid.

He knew the faces and names of all the members of his mafia group by heart, so this person was definitely not a traitor. But that person's face was surprisingly too young. Judging from his observations, it seemed that the strange person, who turned out to be a young man, was actually a college student. He was still in his late teens–maybe around eighteen or nineteen. Keith's gaze turned to the young man's skin, found that the young man never left his room or house, except at night, indicating that the young man had lost his faith in society and decided to lock himself in his room. Only, he felt that this young man's face was not too familiar for him. He also felt confused, on the grounds tha

When my capos and underbosses informed me that he had being traced and found, I was expecting to see him in America but he really hid all the way in Cuba. Bloody fool. "You sure he is the one?" I asked Marcello as he walked towards me before the rest. "Completely. We've been tracking him down for days now" he replied. "His name is Vanvick. He is called V when on duty. He is a trained assassin, raised and brought up in it since he was eighteen. He has worked for the Agosti's , the Sicilian Code, and he is sometimes used by those fucking politicians here in Cuba and also Mexico" Luca informed me as he walked over with Alessio. He handed me an envelope which I opened to access it contents.

Alexander stood by the fireplace, his rifle gone, his hands in his pockets, his gaze soft as it moved over us; his family, forged in blood and fire. Victor was gone. Truly gone. The black-site had become his tomb, the FBI’s cleanup crew finding his body in the cell; poisoned, a cyanide capsule hidden in a molar, his final act of control. The drive was ash, its secrets purged by Marco’s virus. Harlan’s mole network was dismantled, the bounty erased, the deepfakes overwritten with truth: LANG SUICIDE. VASQUEZ HEROES VINDICATED. The world had turned, hashtags trending with our names in light, not shadow.

the man blurted and tilted his body backwards as he feared what Luciano might do to him with the knife. Luciano was taken aback by the revelation. "Don Fenyo?" Fenyo Valdez is the head of the Valdez cartel in Mexico, he and Gustavo had never crossed paths before. So how the fuck did he know about their shipments? And why did he sabotage it, what's his fucking deal?

Four days later, Linda met with Versa again to give him the information he was asking for. “I found out from his relatives that Philip Alvarez died on April 2015. And the cause of his death was tuberculosis.” The girl said to him, which surprised the old detective and could not believe what he found out. “Are you certain? then, i'm right that he used another name. Do you also know what his real identity is?” “Yes, sir.” In response, she handed a flyer to the detective. “What is this?” confused, he says. “He is Rico Vilafuente, one of the top wanted criminals listed in 2013. He is now involved in multiple crimes. Just like homicide, kidnapping, drug trafficking, assault, statutory rape, bribe

His voice carried that same faith Lucien was trying hard to believe in. Vincenzo stood, stepping into the faint morning light filtering through the blinds. “They’ve started a war, not finished one. The next time, we won’t miss.” On Yugoslav radio, the yacht passed an island. Kotor harbor lights flickered ahead. Interpol broadcasts now listed Gabe Vale Jr., Julian Cristoff, and the missing individual Seraphina Vale as persons of interest. The charges included kidnapping, torture, and terrorism. Back in the safe house, Lucien’s phone vibrated: a single encrypted audio file. He hit play.

Tricia's statement render me speechless. I still. Vincenzo Isaac Alfonso is bad news, everyone steer clear from him, I've heard so much about him but never see him. it was said he start killing at a young age, he is the man parents warn their kids of before going to bed. He is a nightmare.

Vasha was using my phone to talk to her father, Andrei Krovopuskov. A quick Google search pulled up pages and pages on the self made billionaire, detailing his success and best business practices; but I was more interested in the several charities he donated to, and the kindness of his character. Vasha was blessed with his mossy green eyes and full lips. Had she never dyed her hair, she would have shared the same dirty blonde shade as her dad. He looked awfully young, but then, Vasha admitted he fathered her at only seventeen years old. That means he’d be in his early forties. As shitty as her childhood had been, it gave me comfort knowing now that Andrei had found her, she’d always have fam

She was just 20 years old when she disappeared, allegedly carrying evidence of her father's involvement in Europe's largest money laundering network. Suddenly, the room lights flickered. Vic turned his head towards the door - the shadow of someone passing quickly in the corridor. His instincts told him something was wrong. He saves all the files to a portable hard drive and stuffs it into his bag. The sound of footsteps approached. Vic picked up his cell phone, intending to call Stefan, but there was no signal. Too many coincidences to be a coincidence, he thought. With a quick movement, he took a small flashlight from his bag and moved towards the door.