Victorious Cast Sikowitz Novels & Stories

He had never shown weakness before, but this time was different. “I’ve heard about Sofia Winston,” Ricardo said, his voice was calm but carrying an undercurrent of authority. “How long have you been involved with her?” Victor flinched. His eyes darted to the floor, and his hands clenched at his sides. “I... I wasn’t involved, not like that. She’s just someone who has helped me with a few things. Nothing more.” “Really?” Don Ricardo’s voice dropped. It was thickened with quiet menace. “So, what is it then? She’s just some random woman you’re helping? Is that the story?”

"It’s over. The final trap was sprung, and it failed." Victor turned in my arms, pulling me flush against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, exhaling a long, jagged breath. He looked over my shoulder, meeting Marco’s eyes. "You saw the pin," Victor rasped, his voice thick with an overwhelming, profound respect. "I was looking at the scene. I was looking at the dynamic. You were looking at the architecture. You saved his life, Marco." Marco looked down at the floor, a rare, vulnerable flush creeping up his neck. He reached out, resting a reassuring hand on Silas’s shoulder as the Dominant continued to hold his recovering submissive.

Deagon fugitives and deep throats "I am the one responsible for Mark Swanson's death, hurry and cuff me officer," Viktor announced loudly and I sighed deeply at his horrendous performance. The officer, Jimmy Martin, had his cuffs out but asked Viktor to come back to the interrogation room with him. Viktor nodded, came up to me and kissed me softly.

And Victor was a great tactician. He sat in the muffled light of his study, a room that was all dark wood and leather, a deliberate echo of a more old-fashioned, macho authority than Brian's chromed-deco. The tableau played itself over again in his mind: Brian's icy voice, the clinical, exact stripping away of his points, the way the board's allegiance had subtly, instantly, changed. But more than anything, he re-lived the look on Brian's face when he had turned to Davidson. It wasn't the look of a CEO defending a respected colleague. It was possessive. Protective. Almost. primal. My choice.

The kind of conversation that starts because both people have been thinking about something and one of them finally says it out loud. "She can't stay in the guest wing indefinitely," Dominic says. He is drying a glass. He says it looking at the glass. "Not because we want her to leave." "I know what you mean," I say. The dishes. The tap. The footsteps above us are going quiet. Dominic sets the glass down and picks up another one. "The Sokolov investigation is open now. Victor's testimony implicated the network. There are people in that network who don't know yet exactly how much Felicity contributed to the documentation that built the case. When they find out, and they will find out, she goe

Swoosh "Bang!" He raised his hand and swept all the things on the desk to the ground. He even lifted the desk and overturned it. "Bastard! Don't let me catch who is behind my back, or I will make his life a living hell!" Vicdor Balke said through gritted teeth. Just as the Vicdor was about to bite his teeth to pieces, Terrence Edmin was tasting the wine leisurely on the other side, celebrating that she had made great progress in pursuing her wife.

"You've got to believe me, Mr. Sorkin, it was the damnedest thing. One minute she's there, the next minute she's not." "Still lying? You tried to rape her. You beat her. You assumed she was unconscious. And you let her get away." He glared at Slater. "Tell me, did you actually think that you could lose my good luck charm and get away with it?" Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, Victor removed a 9mm Beretta. "Mr. Sorkin, please, you have to believe me—" A pair of shots rang out and Slater flinched, shoulders hunched, arms raised protectively in front of himself. Carefully, he opened his eyes, astounded to find that he wasn't hit.

"It seems you've found your way here, after all, Sorin. But it's too late." Sorin stood his ground, his resolve unwavering. "You won't get the orb, Victor," he declared, his voice steady despite the rising tension. "We'll stop you." Victor chuckled darkly, his gaze flickering between Sorin and the sanctuary. "You underestimate me, Sorin," he replied a hint of amusement in his voice. "I always get what I want." With a flick of his wrist, Victor signaled his hooded followers to advance. They moved swiftly towards Sorin, Maya, Anne, and Elias, their intent clear in their determined strides.

“It’s been too long.” “Victor,” Damian replied, shaking his hand firmly. “Good to see you.” Victor’s eyes shifted to Sage, his brows raising slightly. “And who is this?” “This is Sage Whitmore,” Damian said, his tone even. “She’s been assisting me on a number of projects.” Sage forced a polite smile, feeling out of place under Victor’s scrutinizing gaze. “Ah,” Victor said, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “You’ve always had an eye for talent.”

Victor added. ****