Vic Vega Novels & Stories

His gaze was on me the whole time, so I felt I had to pretend to be interested or something. "I'm Vega. Nice to meet you too. What genre do you right". "Thrillers. I love reading them, so I decided to write one too. Your name is unique. I knew only a girl who bore that name in grade school. Vega Romeo. She won all the school awards, was a total nerd". I stood up from my seat because he was literally talking about me. What the hell!. Was he who I thought he was. I'm not good with faces but it felt like I knew those eyes, those waves of hair, but his body was not quite right.

Like always Vic ghost around the room appearing in one place before disappearing only to reappear in another. He’s like a fucking enigma. He slices throats and shoots people in the back of the head, never once being heard and seen. Vic’s one of those men who grew up in this shit along side Vale, Geo and a few others. They practically came out of the womb with a gun in hand and already gained in hand to hand combat before even learning to crawl. Vic how ever is on a whole different level of fucking crazy. He’s the secret weapon when we go on missions, the sniper on the roof and the sleeper cell we use when we need an inside man.

"I need a word with Santiago Vega. It’ll take thirty seconds." "I know who Vega is, kid. You press?" "Sure," Isaac lied, bracing himself. "Pull the other one. Vega doesn't talk to press. Not before, during, or after he draws blood." "I know the drill," Isaac countered, having memorized the Enforcer’s dossier. "He’s a loner, he doesn't mate, he hates cameras, and he breaks the fingers of anyone who tries to track his scent. I’ve done my homework. This is vital."

They both looked up as he came in, and Jester noticed how the man’s pale blue eyes measured him. “Ah, let me introduce you to each other. This fine young man here is the Vice-Commander of the Fourth Special Unit. The famous Jester Lee, Necromancer extraordinaire and all that.” There was a hint of amusement in the Commander’s voice, and a resigned sigh from the man, which Jester only understood after hearing the old lady’s next words. “And this, Jester, is Gregory Vega. Former CEO of Vega Industries, now turned volunteer instructor for our new recruits, and a dear student of mine back in the day. Go on, make nice, you two.” They shook hands, equally firm, equally brief.

A man in a flashy Versace shirt glasses sat on a sofa, peeling an apple with a switchblade. Viktor. An internationally notorious arms dealer for the Russian Bratva, and the maddest dog in Moscow. He played the part of a playboy, but everyone knew his methods were crueler than anyone's. "You saved me?" My voice was raspy, like I’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

Vega thought she bolted the door behind her but from the look of things she didn't. "Why are you crying? I mean shouldn't you be happy you killed a rogue?" Victoria stood in front of Vega who lay on her bed with her arms underneath her head. Victoria smiled like a sick maniac. This was what she always wanted and that was to make their father disappointed in her. "Leave me alone Victoria! You've won. Are you happy now?" Vega was in pure rage. It was bad enough that her father is disgusted with her; now Victoria is only making it worse by adding salt to her injury.

By sunset, the walls of the office felt like they were closing in. He couldn't go back to the Las Vegas Penthouse Loft. Seeing Victor and Mateo together—watching them touch—would snap the last of his control. He’d barely made it out this morning without lunging at them. "Victor Morales. Get the car. Take me to the Venom." The club was a low-tier Vargas asset, the last place Sofia Ramirez had drawn a paycheck. It was quiet when he stepped inside, the air smelling of lemon polish and stale beer as the morning shift prepped for the night's hunt.

He answers, his voice trembling. "Boss?" Vetta repeats and struggles to her feet. Her standing gives me a better view of what she looks like. She's small for someone who causes so much trouble. Tiny even, like a doll. Her full height barely reaches my chest. She looks so fragile, like she would crush under the lightest pressure. I"m overwhelmed with the urge to see her face. "Remove their blindfolds." I order, and Dominguez does, starting with the littlest one. She looks calm, but her deathly grip on a small teddy bear gives her fear away. Delgado looks solemn. Like a sheep about to be slaughtered. But her. She stands straighter, defiance in her eyes, but her whole body trembles. Men in her

Do you really have to offer yourself up? Aurora didn’t hesitate before slapping me again. "Rowan Vance, do you want to ruin Kieran’s future? He finally managed to pass the bar exam, and you’re telling him to go hire a prostitute?" Hearing this, Kieran’s eyes immediately reddened, and he began crying pitifully. "Rowan, I know you’re jealous of me. "But you stay at home all day doing nothing while Aurora supports the company on her own. Now that I can finally help her, you want to destroy me. Are you even a man?"

“Is that right?” He nodded. “Her money, her name, her house, her bloodline. I’ll have it all but you? You’ll be the one I fuck at night.” She let out a low, breathy moan as he groaned louder, reaching his edge. Just before he climaxed, she pulled a small vial from under the couch; sleek, glass, sterile and in one swift movement, caught his release mid-air, pretending to kiss him to distract him, he was too far gone to notice. He collapsed back on the sofa, eyes fluttering closed.