Vince Champ Novels & Stories

He's close behind me and preparing to overtake but I refuse to allow him to beat me, so I leap, catching the hold and seeing the surprise on his face turn to pride. There's nothing I can't do, not when he's there pushing me, challenging me and supporting me. "Champion." I make a fist with my free hand and punch the air whilst still hanging from one arm. A flock of crows take off from the trees a few feet below us, scared by my victory cheer. Almost in slow motion, the rock beneath my hand starts to crumble, I snap my gaze away from Coal and cling to the debris in the vain hope of keeping myself on the rocks while my other hand and feet scramble frantically to find a secure hold.

“Is there any way I can convince you not to do this?” I turned to face him. I could see and hear how scared he was for me. “They need me to do this, I need to do this.” “You’ve already faced them. Are you sure you can do this again?” “Honestly, no. But I have to try right?” “You don’t know Gideon Davenport, he is ruthless. He will tear you apart on the stand.” “I have your father and Evelyn in my corner though, and not to mention you.” “I know but Gideon,” he paused, his brow furrowed.

“D*mn it, who are those people? They actually have the audacity to ruin the host’s event—at a grand opening ceremony! Isn’t he afraid of being persecuted? After all, this is Mr. Larson we’re talking about. He’s the chairman of Violet Vision Media Corp!” “He’s also the owner of the Leap League Advertising Agency. They have a net worth of over a few billion dollars and they’re unfathomably powerful. How dare he crash Mr. Larson’s opening ceremony! He has a death wish!” “Hmph. You’re not very bright, are you? That young man is Hanson Griffin, and he’s a part of the Northmob Council. His father is Xander Griffin, the vice president of the Northmob Council! He’s incomparably more powerful than Za

Declan skidded to a halt beside me, engine idling low. Doors opened. Five guys piled out, big, built like enforcers, all carrying something that glinted under the moon. Bats, chains, one shotgun across a shoulder like it was casual. The driver stepped out last, taller than the rest, shaved head, scar running from ear to jaw. Declan went still. “Shit.” I killed my engine and swung a leg off the bike. “Friends of yours?” “That’s Vance,” Declan said quietly. “The guy I smoked in the final heat. He doesn’t lose. Ever.”

"I actually possess a solitary, highly optimal candidate file in my memory banking. You can personally deploy to test his baseline. Hold on while I pull his raw data files out of my terminal for you." The elite enforcer Sarah highly recommended to Chloe was a man named Justin Vance (陈英杰). He had graduated from the exact same prestigious military academy as Sarah and was her senior alumnus. His physical combat mastery was legendary, and his internal ledger operated under absolute, unyielding moral principles.

One fell on top of the five mixed-breed vamps while the other one fell behind Damien. The five vamps screamed in pain while Damien turned around and dropped Vince to the ground. Vince was coughing nonstop upon being released from Damien's tight grip. "Is that the best you've got?" Rubio mocked. He came just on time! Damien saw his real opponent and his claws turned sharp. "Rubio! Finally!" Damien said as he sneered. Vince on the other hand just stayed at the corner watching their next move as he also save some strength and energy.

Ensley says, as she steps outside the circle. “Nooooo! Nooooooo,” Daphne screams. The sound of her strained voice makes my blood boil. I then hear the sound of a foot pounding the sand and a sharp sting hits my face, crudely jerking it sideways. I feign acting like I’m trying to prepare for it, but I’ll admit the fucker is fast. THUD *I’m fucking sorry,* Vance says, over mind-link. He’s clearly conflicted. I swear I think I hear a bone in my cheek snap. Vance has a mean punch all right, Christian’s real power is in his legs though and I already can tell this is all going to really fucking hurt.

Then, a familiar voice. "Damien." Fontaine’s enforcer stepped into the light, the unmistakable gleam of a suppressor attached to his pistol. Vance. Fontaine’s right hand. A man as ruthless as he was efficient. "You really thought you could win this?" Vance smirked, leveling his gun. "You should’ve run when you had the chance." Damien clenched his jaw, his mind racing. The gunfire around them faded into white noise. This was personal. "You talk too much," Damien growled, then lunged.

“You’re all gonna be in a world of pain.” I step up to him and smile, and I see his eyes widen. That was an odd ability my smile had on people right before they met my blades. They never really thought I would do anything until it was too late. “Welcome, Roy. My name is Vance Matthew.” At the mention of my name, he trashes against Tony, desperate to get free. “Listen, man, I don’t know what all this is about, but I swear to God I haven’t fucked with anything to do with Vincent Ricci. I know who you are, man.” He falls to his knees like a pathetic roach. “I swear on my mother, man.”

"Ivy Blake." The voice came from behind me, deep and commanding with an accent I couldn't place. I turned around and found myself looking at a man who radiated authority even in casual clothes. He was maybe six feet tall with dark hair that had silver at the temples and gray eyes that seemed to see everything. "You the owner?" I asked. "I'm Cain Volkov. I run operations here for the club. Betty says you're looking for work." Cain Volkov. I knew that name from police files. President of the Steel Vultures MC, suspected in multiple murders and drug trafficking operations but never convicted of anything. The man who might have ordered Tommy's death.