Victor Reader Novels & Stories

Victor was the one who divulged my reputation to Atticus, although it seemed like an honest mistake at the time. When I don’t say anything, Victor moves in closer pressing his chest flush against my back as his hands slide down towards my hips. “Your mate was an idiot for rejecting you.” My body goes rigid at the mention of Atticus, but Victor immediately begins kissing my neck and my jaw as his hands tighten their grip on my hips, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

Arthur asked, leaning closer as he tried to peer at the page that she had opened. "I'm going to bid on Mr. September." Victory gave out a low appreciative whistle, wagging her eyebrows as she pointed at a photo of a hunky looking man, clad only in a pair of jeans that hung low on his waist, revealing hard abs and sculpted muscle. "I wouldn't mind him cooking for me." Victory continued, licking her lips lecherously as a mischievous smile appeared on her face. She read aloud what the winning bidder would be entitled to.

I was just about to fold myself into the vehicle when I halted, glaring Victor dead in the eyes as I questioned, "How can I be certain that you don't plan to do anything to me?" Victor huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose as his features twisted in a pensive mask. After a minute or two, he began signing, "Message your friend. Tell her you're with me. My name is Victor Silva. If she doesn't hear from you in the morning then she should file a charge against me." Silva. Hispanic decent. His tanned skin suddenly made a lot of sense. I fished out my phone from the pocket of my trench coat and opened a chat with Erica.

She writes something, and a second later, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Discreetly, I pick it up. Zarah: Are you an idiot? He doesn’t want to discuss your future here at the restaurant! Victor is going to bend you over his desk and fuck you! I almost choke as I read her message, and then I look back at Victor, who is calmly eating his food. When he catches me looking, his lips curve up by the corners, and a shiver runs down my spine. I like the sound of being bent over his desk very much.

Eja asked, Victor stared at him for a while then he relaxed into the chair “You give yourself too much credit… and you underestimate me” Victor said, Eja smiled then pulled out a stick of cigarette, puts it on his lips then lights it with a lighter “You know my rules Eja” Victor said, Eja looked at him with a frown and confused face “What rules?” Eja asked, Victor smiled then leaned forward to the table “Let me remind you, even though I know you know” “I don’t know” Eja said then drew smoke from his cigarette then blew it into the air

Victor roared, lunging for the tactical rack hidden behind the bookshelf. He didn't have claws. He didn't have the shift. He grabbed a silver-edged gladius and a modified pulse rifle, his human knuckles turning white as he checked the magazine. The estate groaned. Not the sound of wind or settling stone, but the shriek of structural steel being twisted by an invisible hand. "Victor! The nursery! Ahh!" Elodie’s voice tore through the hallway. Victor didn't wait. He vaulted over a fallen chair, his boots skidding on the marble. He rounded the corner to the nursery wing and stopped.

He reached for his throwing blades, but they were jammed. Victor made the decision in a split second and reached for Veritás. As it sprouted from the captain’s chest he realized who Victor really was and paled as he died. Victor lifted himself out of the hole and retrieved the blade, cleaned it, and made sure that another throwing knife appeared to have been used as the entire company rushed toward the bridge. Victor noticed a gash on his leg and encouraged the blood to flow rather than stopping it and adopted a rather pronounced limp.

Ten years later... The air in the bookstore buzzed with quiet excitement. It wasn’t a stadium. No flashing lights. No cameras in her face. Just soft music, rows of worn novels, and a long line of readers holding a single book in their hands. "Signed With Silence: The Untold Story of Survival, Power, and Love" by Marie Sanchez. Victor, now eleven, stood off to the side beside his father. He was tall for his age, with his mother’s steady gaze and his father’s quiet fire. A reporter had once said he looked like a boy with a story written into his bones. They weren’t wrong.

“How is this possible? I saw it with my own eyes. The baby was wrapped in Leo’s blanket...” Suddenly, his pupils shrank. Gritting his teeth, he charged toward me. “Nina! Did you already know that wasn’t Leo? Why didn’t you say anything?” I clenched my fist and punched him hard in the face. “So what if it wasn’t Leo? That was still a life!” David clutched his eye socket, panic filling his gaze. “If it wasn’t Leo, then who was it? Who was it...” All at once, his eyes locked on Ariel.

Victor's voice was almost a whisper, and like an Idiot I turned to face him. "Good night Mo!" His voice matched the softness in his gaze and I just turned around and ran upstairs. I some how managed to hold my tears till I was inside my room and closed the door behind me.