Vince Champ Novels & Stories

Then, he picked up the canvas on the ground. Raiver looked at Vince and his brows couldn't help but rise higher when he saw that the other was taller than him. “Hmm… aren’t you - ?” he muttered when he finally recognized Vince. “Victor’s younger brother… right, Vincent.” He said. Vince paused when he heard his name was called. He turned and looked at Raiver, who proudly grinned at him. Vince already recognized Raiver, but he didn’t say anything since he didn’t expect that a notorious playboy would actually help him from being bullied.

“Alpha Amy wins. Alpha Brandon is disqualified from the battle for trying to land a death blow.” Vince looked back at me with eyes filled with hatred, but he picked up his son and rushed him to the pack doctor.

I know how fast the world will devour you if you don't beat it to the punch. I was never destined to be here, least of all leading anything. But over the course of a semester, I wore the captain's band as if it were forever. Soccer was not a game to me; it was war with lines demarcating the battlefield and the referee's whistle a call to battle and I always played to win. My name? Steel. Not the one I was baptized with, but one I'd earned. Today the president of Vikings MC, then just a nineteen-year-old junior attempting to bulldoze his way through a college business degree with more tattoos than textbooks.

ISLA GRACE MILLER DATE OF BIRTH: JUNE 18TH AGED: 18 HAIR: AUBURN EYES: GREEN HEIGHT: FIVE FOOT FIVE INCHES GUARDIAN - JUNE DANIELS, RELATION: MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER, DECEASED- CEDAR FALLS. SCORED HIGH MARKS: TRACKING; HAND/HAND COMBAT; TEAMWORK; FIELD FIRST AID NOTES: RUN RISK LEVEL 2; ONE ATTEMPT YEAR ONE AT TRTC. RECEIVED COUNSELING. MEDICATED WITH ANTIDEPRESSANT FOR YEARS 1-3. CLEARED FOR DISCONTINUATION OF USE AFTER REASSESSMENT.

“You're safe now.” “Ren!” Jeremy and the rest of the group found their way through the gathering crowd and asked me the same thing. “I-I'm fine,” lies. My hands were still shaking in fear, the feel of his still lingers where they touched me. “I'm okay.” The blond guy talked to the bouncers before turning to us. “Thank you,” I said to the blond guy and he nodded. It turns out, he is a football player from the Giants and my friends were ecstatic to join them in the VIP lounge.

2 MONTHS LATER. Brian's POV. Two months have passed and the snow has melted. Spring has come, and Millie has been getting a lot better. Her leg was no longer injured. But a scar still remained on her leg. I had been preapring for Wilson. Each day I would get up before dawn while Millie still slept and I would work out and build up my muscles. i was getting all my slaughter rooms ready for his arrival. Whoever he may bring with him would be slaughterd as well. I had to protect my Millie, she was so precious to me. So beautiful and I was not gonna let him take her away from me. It then hit me, I have been working so hard getting my castle inside and outside ready for an attack that I wanted to

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

It was lowered down with conveyer belt bindings as the large blue lightning bolt emblem representing the greatest hero the world had ever known sparkled in contrast to the black of the casket. The entire city was in tears, following the sapphire speedster's death after it was confirmed by papparazo who had been hungry for a story that same ill-fated day when he stumbled upon the Blue Streak battling it out with another dangerous being that way thought to be the cause of his death. Everything had happened so fast but he had managed to catch sight of the Blue Streak exploding into nothing and destroying whatever he a as fighting together with him. The footage went viral in a matter of seconds

This operation was just as important and personal to her as it was to me. Chief grunted in agreement. He was like a dad to all of us, although he was only 10 years older, my senior. Chief Derrick Flemming, was a decorated Marine. He had more tours under his belt and mission successes than any of his seniors. He kept his dark brown hair short in a military cut, gray speckled on his sideburns, and on his neatly trimmed beard. Sleeves of tattoos covered mass amounts of burn scars on his arms. Only those close with him understood where those scars came from and why this unit was created. All of us on the team had some sort of connection to Ricci Enterprises. All of us wanted to destroy it and it

Two men sat there, surrounded by empty whiskey glasses. "Gentlemen." Roxy purred. "Meet Angel. The fresh meat." The man on the left slowly looked up. He was flawlessly carved, with dark hair falling into striking, ice-blue eyes and a sharp jawline covered in dark stubble. A thin, jagged scar cut through his left eyebrow but it only added to his lethal, rugged appeal. A heavy silver patch on his leather cut read V. PRES. "Venom.” Roxy said, gesturing to him. "Vice President."