Vince Ellis Novels & Stories

The cool glass pressed against her fingertips as the city lights twinkled far below. She had come for a private business meeting. She found something far more consuming. The private elevator chimed softly. Marcus “The Storm” Okoro, the world-famous Black Belgian entrepreneur and former premier league footballer, stepped into the penthouse. Towering at 6’10” with a powerfully athletic build, his dark skin gleamed under the soft lighting as he approached. Elise turned, eyes dark with hunger. “I don’t want the polite version,” she whispered. “I want the raw one.”

"You got taller. I'll start calling you Le Bron James." "You know I prefer Kyrie Irvin, he is my guy. I'm no Laker fan." Eleanor entangled her arms with that Emil as they walked out of the lecture room. "More reasons why I call you Le Bron. You should be called what you look like, don't you think?" Emil nodded. There was no point in arguing with Eleanor but he was glad he made up with her. Life could have been harder. Waking with Eleanor, Emil felt like a giant…that is what he has become. He was intimidating to other students, apart from Eleanor who won his great prize since they were kids.

He eyes the young girl with interest. “You’re Elle Swanson,” he states. “Hector’s friend. James Swanson’s daughter.” “You know my father?” She asks in astonishment. “He and I don’t see eye to eye,” Vincent states. “What are you here for? I doubt you want to talk about your father this late at night.” Elle takes a deep breath and says, “Your employee, Carl Hoover. He’s out to expose you!” Vincent stands there, listening carefully. “Continue,” he says.

Cornelius stopped me. “Why didn’t you come to me then?” I shook my head. “I thought about it, but I never wanted to put you and your family in danger.” He seemed satisfied with that answer so I continued. “I eventually was out of options so I went to someone I thought could help me. I went to Michael Scott. He was responsible for Carter’s death, but he also had a good reason for it. The night Carter died one of Mike’s men had let me go, so I felt they might be able to help. Mike called Jensen to come from New York to help. Jensen was the one that let me go that night, but at first, he hated me because Carter was responsible for his fiance’s death.”

I know several people came in after Sloane knocked me out, but I have no idea who was there. “Should I?” I ask. Maybe he’s nothing more than a warrior, but he’s a damn good looking warrior if so. “I was Benedict’s Beta. My name is Ellis,” he says, holding out his hand. I reach out and take it. “What do you mean you were his Beta?” “Apparently, Benedict took offense that I knew his mother was trying to break him and Sloane up and I didn’t say anything to him about it. I guess I’m not trustworthy enough for the perfect Benedict Winslow, IV,” he growls, shooting another shot of whiskey.

strategy session had half the executives pretending they weren’t watching the two youngest men in the room like it was premium entertainment. Steve Vanderbilt presented like he owned the world—which, in many ways, he did. Eleanor sat to his right, watchful as ever, her sharp eyes flicking between her son and the others. Lila was mercifully absent, thanks to Steve’s plot of possession, but Mark Dorkul had been invited as Steve’s “special consultant.” Steve had made certain Mark sat right beside him.

His demeanor sent a ripple of unease through the girls, who exchanged apprehensive glances as they braced themselves for his instructions. Larry Wells, at forty, was a man you couldn't easily warm up to. With a scowling countenance, unkempt appearance, and a demeanor dripping with disdain, he inspired more fear than admiration. His abrasive manner and contemptuous gaze made him someone you'd instinctively avoid, rather than seek out for guidance or approval. They greeted him upon his entry. With a curt nod, Larry launched into the orientation, his voice sharp and commanding as he outlined the tasks and expectations for the serving staff. He spared no detail, his instructions delivered with a

"I need you to distract Darius tonight so I can ask him." I watch through the crack in the toilet door as Selena Wilkins fluffs her horrible hair and makes her stupid lips look gross and sticky with her lip gloss. What sort of thirteen year old needs lip gloss? And high heels, they're totally impractical for anything, we live on the Moors for Goddess' sake! Not that I'm being petty or anything because for the last few minutes she's been talking about how hot Coal is and how she is going to make him her boyfriend.

"Don't you even dare to speak rubbish about him or else I will kill you... What do you think of yourself..?? That you can do whatever you want.. you're saying him jerk but you don't know that you're the biggest jerk... And what do you know about him.. huh..?? Tell me.. you don't know even a bit about him, you don't know The Steve Ellison.. the person whom you think is a cold hearted, devil, beast is actually an angel for the person who are not wrong, not bad, who doesn't get justice.. yeah he is a cold hearted, rude, arrogant beast but he is way more better than you who doesn't even know how to respect girl.. and what I'm doing you're not even worthy enough to be compared with him..

Here's an improved version: "I know I need to let Williams see his daughter, but I just don't want to. He hurt me, and he has to suffer for it. I don't want my daughter to grow up and realize that her father is nothing more than a beast and, not only that, a cheater. Why did Williams have to hurt me this way? Why did he have to make me suffer like this? I close my eyes, trying to stop thinking about him, and before I know it, a few tears drop down my cheek, leaving me feeling lost and broken with a difficult decision to make."