Victor Cast Novels & Stories

Victor exploded from the room and stood at the top of the stairs, his incandescent rage blazing from his eyes, while he leveled his glare down at Dominic and his team, who hunched under it below. "You bastard!" Victor spat, echoing through the halls of the building, "Don't think you've won! Look who's here with me!" With the flourish of a maestro, Victor revealed Valarie, her half-nude body beaten and bruised. The poor girl cried and shivered, her eyes pleading. The team led by Dominic looked up to meet their gaze, somber-faced. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw in anger.

"Until the blood woke up. Now I’m a property value." "Not to me." Camille pulled me into a hug, her heart thudding against mine. "And not to him. Even if he’s too much of an arrogant prick to say it without a growl." The door groaned open. Victor stood there. His suit jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tension. His eyes were dark, the amber replaced by a hollow, haunted black. "Out, Camille," he said. "Victor, she needs—"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That question only deepened when a new alert lit up the grid. “Incoming encrypted message. From: Victor Lang. Priority: Black Level” I opened the file. A video flickered to life —Victor, seated in a high-rise room bathed in sunset light. Calm. Unbothered. Triumphant. “Hello, Elena,” he said. I didn’t move. Neither did Damien. Victor leaned forward. “You’ve been busy. Bleeding my accounts, ruining my alliances, even dancing with Nakamura. I expected nothing less.”

"He twitches, you open him up. Clear?" The floodlights hit Victor like a physical blow. He squinted, his boots splashing through the oily grit. "ON THE GROUND! NOW!" Victor didn't drop. He just stood there, a jagged, bloody smile on his face. "You’re welcome for the promotion, Moss. Did Dominic write your speech too?" "ON YOUR KNEES, RUSSOS!" He hit the concrete, hard. Tactical boots thundered. A knee crushed into his spine, grinding his face into the wet asphalt. The cuffs bit into his wrists with a nasty, final click.

He turned his predatory gaze to Donovan, who flinched instinctively under its intensity. “Donovan,” Victor began, his voice sharp and controlled. “Cancel all my meetings for the day. My full focus is on dismantling Arthur Grey.” “Yes, sir,” Donovan squeaked, fumbling with his tablet before rushing out of the office. Victor stood and walked to the large window overlooking the sprawling city below. His reflection stared back at him, the image of a man who had built an empire through sheer determination, cunning, and ruthlessness. He had crushed rivals before, and Arthur Grey would be no exception.

"It doesn't fix anything. But it gives us a chance to build something that isn't a lie." The sound of a car engine cutting through the coastal wind made us both freeze. It wasn't a police siren. It was the low, aggressive growl of a high-end engine. A black SUV crested the hill, kicking up dust as it roared toward the cottage. "Charity, go inside. Get behind Seven," I ordered. "No," she said, standing her ground. "I'm not hiding in the shadows anymore." The SUV skidded to a halt. Victor stepped out. He looked terrible—his shoulder bandaged clumsily, his face gaunt. He held a gun in his left hand, the barrel pointed loosely at the ground.

A dark haired women cupped her cheeks. Others were so excited and overwhelming because Victor usually don't sing or act in live. So there were cheered madly. Even though I was wondering about his sudden change, I kept quiet with a gentle smile in my face. He reached the microphone and cleared his throat. "This night is cold in the kingdom I can feel you fade away From the kitchen to the bathroom sink and Your steps keep me awake Don't cut me down, throw me out, leave me here to waste I once was a man with dignity and grace

There was blood on his collar and he swayed slightly after dodging or throwing punches. The growl I let loose at the sight reverberated through the floors, causing Cyrus' eyes to flicker to mine with relief. The jaguar, who I now realized was Tyler, took advantage of the moment and slammed his pipe into Cy's chest. The sickening crunch I heard was enough for me to lose it. I ran at full speed, throwing caution to the wind. Grabbing Tyler by the throat, I threw him aside. Fin tackled a lion, while Jax begins to pummel another with a quick fire of well-aimed punches. After kicking Tyler even further away before he could recover, I turned and punched unsurprisingly, Justin in the throat. Twice.

After an unexpected miscarriage, I left my ward in search of Victor. I saw him inside the doctor’s office. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I overheard their conversation. “Give my wife a hysterectomy. I don’t need her to bear me any children.” Victor Gayes pulled the woman beside him to face the doctor, his hand rubbing her belly. “The baby inside her belly will be my only child. You must protect it no matter what.” I knew the woman very well. She was Victor’s secretary of three years, Rachel Aniston.

A framed print clattered to the floor. “I built this company with him!” Victor screamed, his face inches from Davidson’s, his breath hot with whiskey and hate. “I was there in the dirt and the oil when you were still a bible-thumping boy in Texas! I earned it! You just spread your legs for it!” Davidson shoved him back, hard. Victor stumbled, crashing into a low-slung sofa. The two men from Volkov watched, impassively, as if observing a mildly interesting sporting event. This was beneath their intervention.