Vincent Marucut 2 Novels & Stories

He grinned, “I have just the thing to make you feel better.” Violet looked at him, confused. “What?” He pushed a bottle of wine to her side. Violet pushed it back to his side and Alaric returned it, “Drink with me, don't worry, I'll take care of you.” Violet scoffed, “I don't have to worry about any man taking advantage of me. Also, I don't think a bottle of wine will knock me out. It's useless to me.” Alaric smirked, “Then I dare you to finish the whole bottle. If you finish it without getting drunk, I'll no longer ask about the coins you borrowed from me.”

Once Nico seemed to calm down, Vince called Mario, one of the soldiers, to pick him up and take him back to the mansion while Vince went to look for Lina and Maddie. Bartolomeo was staring at the door when Vince stepped inside. “How is he?” Bartolomeo asked, his voice low. Vince was caught off guard but chose not to argue. “He'll be fine. Or at least, he'll be in a manageable state. In time.” “Uomo stupido,” Bartolomeo muttered, gesturing to the door where Vince had come from, whiskey glass in hand. “Yeah. Unresolved love does that to people. And... please, don’t talk about my Sottocapo like that.”

"You've caused a lot of problems, girl." Up above, the darkness in the silver scar seemed to pause, watching the unfolding human drama with a detached, malevolent interest. Vincent slowly raised the gun, pressing the cold barrel directly against Marco's temple. Then, he spoke a single sentence, heard clearly by every connected mind on Earth. "Bring me Ava Sinclair." Marco groaned weakly, a trail of dark blood running from the corner of his mouth. Vincent's smile widened, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger. "Or the next thing Luca loses won't be his brother."

I’m panting, covered in spit and cum and sweat, and Vincent looks at the other three and his voice drops into something final. “Get her airtight.”

He shook his head. I came over, getting close to him, as we both sat by the fire and touched the key. As I turned it over, I noticed something. I licked my finger, and rubbed it alongside the metal. A final layer of dust evaporated, and there was visible a small inscription, written in a delicate script. The Vincent House. I looked to Caleb. “Do you know it?” He leaned back, shook his head and sighed. “I guess our search isn’t over,” he finally said.

“Wait...” “Olivia Sanders?” We both turned to see the doctor who had treated Mark when we arrived. “It's me.” I said, approaching quickly. Alex had said that I was Mark's wife so that they would keep us informed about his condition. “I am happy to tell you that your husband is now stable, we found the bullet and it didn’t cause any real damage. Your husband is in excellent physical condition, so the worked pectoral muscle helped the bullet not reach any deeper and only grazed his clavicle. He will need at least a week of complete rest and then we will remove the sutures...”

His face contours in pain and he falls on the floor. He starts to squirm, taking his crotch in his hand. It’s the chance, I will have to leave this room as soon as possible. I have only a few minutes.

The man’s eyes widened in surprise, and screaming, we both watched as his blood poured as his wails of pain, squirmed, and thrashes grew relentless. “Oops, it slipped” Nicolas said, pulling the knife out “this should help…” He opened the bottle of vodka and poured it over the fresh wound, causing the man’s body to jerk a few times as he arched his back. He kicked his legs, trying to soothe the burning between his legs and Nicolas sighed “you know, your beta isn’t fun anymore. I thought that he could handle more than just a few stabs”

Seated across the polished desk was Marco, a burly enforcer with a scarred face and a ledger of shady contacts, Vincent's go-to for matters that required a firmer hand than boardroom negotiations. “You have twenty-four hours," Vincent growled, his brown eyes blazing with protective intensity as he slammed a fist on the desk, the sound echoing like thunder. "Find out that bastard! I don’t care if he’s in hell. Just find him and get in front of me." Marco nodded, unfazed by the venom in Vincent's tone. Vincent's jaw clenched, a dark fire igniting in his chest, not just anger, but a passionate resolve to shield the woman who owned his heart. He pictured Katherine's blue eyes, her soft moans fro

How many of the people in this room has he helped as he did my father and Amy's husband? Vincent steps away from the cake as Marianne, the chief assistant for the other half of the floor, steps up holding a big knife ready to slice it into squares. "Make sure I get a big piece when you get finished. I need to talk to Ms. Marshal about her transfer papers," Vincent says loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear.