Victor Mature Net Worth Novels & Stories

"You're right. He must care about the baby inside of me because he loves me too much. He knew you wouldn't divorce your wife, but he still told me to come to you because he wanted me to give up." I nodded in satisfaction and spoke lightly. "Victor's parents died young. He owns a car and his own place. He has always wanted a family and a child of his own. He must be very happy now that he got to become a father without lifting a finger, and that the woman he loves is carrying the baby. As long as you're willing to marry him, forget fifty thousand, he would be willing to give you a hundred thousand."

I thought for some time before I arrived at the next question, “Who is richer? You or Victor?” Cael laughed, “You thought for a long time only to arrive at a question a quick g****e search would have answered for you.” “Just answer,” I insisted. “Victor,” he replied dryly. “He is older than me and he has been in business for that much longer. He had the help of your mother as well, that’s why he is wealthier. I am only a few hundred million behind.” “A few hundred?” I smirked. “That sounds like a lot.”

Everything about her was shielded from the media. “Bullshit.” I meant that as a statement, but it came out sounding like a question. Victor Ross had been a boxing legend, heavyweight champion of the world, undefeated until he died from a nasty hit in the ring. He was in a coma for months even though doctors had declared him brain dead. His son, Verion, had picked up the mantle and was well on his way to his dad’s legendary status until one day, he just vanished. He was a legend in his own right, and odds had been in his favor to win the title fight. There’d been a scandal about Verion marrying a poor, orphaned girl that Victor never approved of because she was, supposedly, after his money. T

"No, I don't want him dead. Make an example of one of his men, but I don't want him to know who delivered the hit." A week ago when I received the answers I was looking for, I set pandemonium loose on Fernandez's operation-missing shipments, unexplained fires, and even two misplaced henchmen. Now there will be a third. The bastard's life is only beginning its downward spiral. Andreas grunts his acknowledgement and I end the call. I pass the remainder of the day by going through accounts and familiarizing myself more with the inner workings of Victor's organization. I was his enforcer, and money was never my concern. Now it's more trouble than it's worth. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration. A

“Ahh! Brother Victor. No wonder. Brother Victor is so handsome, and it’s no wonder why the girl that he likes is also so extraordinary!” When the other boy heard the name ‘Victor’, he naturally took a step back and drooped a little. Brother Victor was none other than Victor Wright, the vice president of the student union in the Department of Language and Literature. Everyone knew that he came from a very well-to-do family and that he drove an Audi A6. There was not a single person in university who did not know who he was. How could anyone possibly afford to offend him? “Who dares to ask this beauty for her phone number? If anyone can give me her phone number, I am willing to pay you fifteen

Victor said “Yes I am” “You have the guts to come demand such greed request” Victor said “I believe I do” he replied confidently “How much do you make in profit per month from supplies you receive from me?” Victor asked “Hmmm (eyes move up in thought) 5 million” he said “5 million… so if that is your profit why do you want to meet my supplier?” Victor asked “(Scoffs) Come Victor I know that you make 50 times of that… and I want in on that excess flow of wealth”

"They can be interpreted in so many ways. I saved your mother from a life of mediocrity. I gave her everything. And Clara? I saved her family from the gutter. So what if I padded the numbers a bit? Value is subjective, Nikolai. To me, she was worth every penny of that imaginary hundred billion." "You’re insane," Clara cried out from behind me. "You lied to us! You destroyed my father for a game!" "It wasn't a game, darling," Victor said, shifting his grip on the shotgun. "It was an investment. And I don't like it when my investments try to walk out the door. Especially not with the help of my own blood." "Move, Clara," I whispered, my eyes locked on Victor’s trigger finger.

Victor continued, his voice deadly calm as usual, "I don't care who took your money. I don't care about your family drama or your marriage problems. I care about one thing only." He stepped closer to my bed once more, and I pressed myself back against the pillows, trying to get away from him. "I want my six and a half million dollars," Victor said. "And I want it now." "But the money's gone," I said weakly. "Someone stole it. I can't pay you back right now. I don't have that kind of money." "Can't you?" Victor tilted his head slightly. "That's disappointing, Marcus. Because I was hoping you would be more creative in finding a solution."

"Huh…, sure. As long as you agree that her marriage starts where Rachel's own stopped. By the way, how much is he owning?" Mr Calvin said, eyeing both Victor and his mother for their indicipline and greediness. "About 50000 dollars. I was suprised that he owned that much. Ni wonder he couldn't concentrate on his job cause he his hiding from thisr he owned " the grandmother replied. "Ok. I will tell my aide to settle Mr Victor's debt tomorrow. However, I will like to spend time with Jennifer before the main marriage process. She might have to go with me today, is that okay with you people?"

About forty minutes later, we sat in his lawyer’s office, and Victor’s calm demeanor evaporated. “What do you mean ten billion?” Victor’s voice was sharp, filled with rage. He stood up, glaring at the lawyer. “That’s ridiculous! There’s no way I’m paying that tramp one dollar, let alone ten billion. For what? What am I paying her for?” The lawyer, unfazed by Victor’s outburst, leaned back in his chair. “You’d have to ask your mother,” he replied calmly. Victor froze, his brows furrowing. “My mother?”