Victor Cast Novels & Stories

The heavy door swung silently on its hinges—a newly minted promise of transparency between us. Victor stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the harsh morning light catching the sharp, patrician lines of his profile. He was still wearing the clothes from last night—a simple black button-down, the collar open, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the faint, silvered scars on his forearms that told the story of a man who had long ago mastered his own demons. A phone was pressed to his ear, his voice a low, steady rumble of absolute authority that sent a familiar, involuntary shiver cascading down my spine.

The thought sent a jolt of dark, bitter adrenaline through Julian’s veins. Just wait, Chase, Julian thought. Wait until you realize you’re the one who lost. But then, his eyes moved to the center of the altar. Victor Sterling stood there, and the air seemed to vanish from the room. Victor wasn't just a man; he was an atmosphere. Standing well over six-foot-three, his presence was so dominant it made the towering marble columns of the cathedral look small. He was dressed in a bespoke, midnight-black three-piece suit that hugged shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the city. His hair was dark, peppered with a few distinguished strands of silver at the temples, and his face was a maste

A figure stepped out of the shadows, tall and impeccably dressed, with a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Thiago Bermudez,” the man drawled, his tone dripping with false charm. “And the infamous Bridgette Martinez. What a pleasure.” “Who are you?” Thiago’s posture was rigid, protective as he placed himself slightly in front of me. “Call me Victor,” the man said, his grin widening. “But I’m not here to play games. I have something you want.” Victor tossed a USB drive onto the ground. It landed between us with a soft clatter.

God, I hated being bugged, but it was still better him than Helen. "Fine," I grumble and the door opened and he entered. He cleared his throat before he crossed the room, still dressed in his work uniforms and gestured to the bed with his hand as if asking if he could sit. "Sure, why not?" I say grumpily. Victor sat on the edge of the bed and ran a stubby hand through his short messy brown hair. He wasn't very short but he wasn't very tall either which left him somewhere around five feet nine inches. Victor was a bit bulky, from all the workouts he did but the look was ideal for him. Most women would say it made him look more attractive, but it just made him look okay for a guy his height.

My heart slammed into my ribs. “I see you’ve been busy,” he continued. “New name, New life, New child.” I said nothing. “But let me remind you who you are.” He sent a photo to my phone. It was Raymond. Tied to a chair. Blood on his temple. Unconscious. “No—” “If you want him back alive,” Victor said, “bring Miranda. Yourself. No security. No tricks.” He hung up. I stared at the screen. Everything inside me cracked. Raymond’s POV

“The sins of the parents would be on the child. What form would I take. A ghosty form ha ha. Can’t wait for the battlefield. We’re ain’t after the elections but after lives. We’ll make sure he doesn’t win and then kill him.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and sips the bottle of beer in front of him. His right was patch. He wore a singlet which show off his tattooed covered skin. His hair was sprayed white. There was a scar on his left cheek. And a missing tooth. He was Savage savaged.

“Kill him.” “Desmond!” Olivia clutched my arm, pleading, but I couldn’t chance it. The guys lurched forward, a couple of them shifting as they attacked Victor. Only Iggy and I stood back. I needed to protect Olivia at all costs. I wouldn’t fail in protecting her again. Olivia buried her head in my arm, unable to watch. I brought my other hand up and stroked her arm. Victor was holding his own, though, against all of them. The shadows lashed out while his nails elongated, and he tore at all of them. He was far more powerful than he was before. Consumed by his hate.

The fall guy had fallen exactly where he was supposed to. "You think you won, Adrian?" Victor whispered to the empty, opulent room, his reflection in the glass twisting into a cold, venomous sneer. "You got lucky with a speech. But you still have a contract. And if your little boyfriend thinks he's safe just because my assistant is in a cell..." Victor set his glass down on the marble counter, picking up a burn phone from his drawer. He dialed a number he had kept in reserve for emergencies a contact deep within the league’s central athletic committee.

One member Silas had tested failed, but it wasn’t a member who failed is why we had to wait two more days before beginning the next test. No, Daxton decided to take things a little too far with one of his testers. The person passed, but he had caused him to be injured by torturing him after an arranged kidnapping. Up until that point I had avoided Daxton, but then I was forced to deal with him.

“You whore! How could you screw another man until you take in his child?“ “I swear— I.“ I couldn't finish the statement because my vision was starting to get blurry and darkness was starting to creep in. Then he released his grip from my neck and I fell to the floor with a loud thud. I let out a gruttal cough, gasping for breath with spit drooling out of my mouth. My neck throbbed with so much pain that it feels like I was about to die. Yet, I couldn't. Then he toss the parchment paper at me. “Still denying it?“ I grabbed the paper, my eyes scanning it and at the bottom: NO MATCH. That was the result. Clear. Final.