Victor Van Dort Novels & Stories

Across the table, I saw Dante's jaw tighten slightly, but his expression remained calm. Victor, however, looked at his younger son with something that might have been disappointment. "Dante invests his time as well as money," Victor said mildly. "He's spent years building relationships in that community. That's worth more than any check he could write." Rob shrugged, clearly not interested in debating it. He turned back to me. "You looked amazing by the pool today, by the way," he said, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. "That bikini was..." He trailed off, his eyes dipping down to my chest before coming back up. "Incredible."

Victor is not in Italy for years now and his name had vanished at the same time he left the country so what is truly suspicious is that, Victor also got an invitation. "This night is getting interesting," he said to himself before entering the venue without anyone beside him. He thinks that it's best to not let any of his men inside for he doesn't want to be the center of attraction and also, he doesn't want to put a bad impression on Mr. Morales and it will only happen if he presents himself to Mr. Morales off guard. "Mr. Mogilevich," Margarita greeted him. Margarita is the wife of a well-known businessman. He happened to know the woman through their common friends, they got close, did the

Alexandro warned automatically, stepping off the porch. Valerian scooped the child up effortlessly, spinning her around before placing her on his shoulders. “I’ll take care of her,” he replied with a wink, clearly enjoying himself. From the ocean, a figure emerged through the surf—Nivera, her silvery-blonde hair plastered against her skin, water droplets catching the light like diamonds. She waved toward the beach, her smile radiant.

Rumours were about to run wild. “Haven’t seen you around here love, are you new to town?” The plump store clerk asked as I dumped a basket full of clothes down by the cash register. If you couldn’t tell by now, I am very basic, my new wardrobe would be comprised exclusively of athleisure wear and sneakers. “Something like that” I smiled politely. “Well, my names Dorothy, if you need anything, I’ve lived in this pack all my life and I’d be happy to help. It’s not often we get new pack members, it’s nice to see a fresh face.” Dorothy winked as she started scanning the clothes.

Yvette "Business Tycoon and Local Philanthropist, Adrien Vasanten, Honored with Prestigious State Award for Exceptional Charity Contributions." "In a heartwarming recognition of altruism, Adrien Vasanten, a dedicated supporter of various charity organizations, has been bestowed with a prestigious award by the governor of Willowdale. The accolade celebrates his unwavering commitment to community welfare and impactful contributions to numerous charitable causes.

I cleared my throat before sending my message to Karlo and avoided my gaze. Me: Don’t worry. I’ll text you. Karlo: Okay. Enjoy. “Of all the universities you could pick here in the US, why mine?” I almost jumped when I heard Victor behind me. That’s when I noticed that the group had already taken their seats on the disco sofas and were having a toast. I was left standing beside a table where my wineglass is. I shifted my weight to Victor and silently discerned his outfit. White polo shirt, black shorts, white Jordan shoes. On his wrist was a silver Rolex and a black bracelet. A silver chain was on his neck. His silver piercing on left ear made him look like a bad playboy - so dashing yet dang

He plays the footage from the camera flash he got from the lab. We carefully watch everything in the video. Alpha Tate’s wolf wasn’t comfortable seeing it again, he’s growling and radiating anger energy from his body, but we had to watch it. It’s the only way to know who these scientists are. “There.” He points at the screen. Oliver pauses the video, taking it back a little and stops at the face of one of the doctors. “Isn’t that Justin’s father?” Oliver asks, staring at the screen intensely. He does look exactly like Justin though.

Jared asks as Brock enters the kitchen. “Please,” he growls, running his hands through his hair. The man’s hair is gorgeous- it’s chocolate brown, though the sun has lightened some of the strands to more of a coppery color. It falls a few inches below his shoulders in loose waves and looks like it would be silky soft to the touch. As Brock reaches up to secure his hair back in a quick man bun, his t-shirt rides up and I get a glimpse of his lower abs and the tantalizing V shape of his Adonis belt. This guy’s body is unreal- I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw him in the kitchen the other night wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. His body is all three T’s: tanned, toned, and tat

Dalton’s point of view: Shoving the man to the side, I seized him around the throat with the same wires attached to the machine to prevent him from saying any kind of invocations out loud. Wrapping the wires tightly around his throat, I squeezed hard enough to feel his windpipe give way under my fingers. I ignored the sparks travelling through the wires and burning my palms. I only hoped that this bastard would feel the torturous shocks more so than I was. He struggled, scrabbling weakly against my hand, the wires of the machine tangling as he flailed about. The rage that had been building in me exploded. I bared my teeth at the man, ready to kill him right there and then.

I ran in as well, only to get stopped by Hunter as he got in front of me and dad. My eyes travelled around the room and I locked eyes with the man who would soon become the man of my dreams and the man in my nightmares. Austin Dechart.