Virgil Tracy Novels & Stories

“She’s right, we didn’t know what he was planning. I loved him, yes but I didn’t know he would… betray you like that. Please, Ava. You have to believe me, I didn’t help him.” A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “Believe you? When you stood by him every time he mocked me? When you laughed while he made me scrub the floors until my hands bled? You both joined hands with him to tear me down for years.” Tracy’s eyes darted desperately. “I wasn’t part of Orion’s plans, I didn’t know anything. I’m paying for being close to him and for everything I did to you but I didn’t betray you. Please, Ava, don’t let me die in here for something I didn’t do.”

Tracy pleaded, trying to feed her, but Evelyn only turned her head weakly, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Let me try,” Gloria said gently, taking the bowl from Tracy. She sat beside the sick woman, coaxing her, but Evelyn refused again. “I’ll go get an ambulance,” Tracy said quickly, glancing at Beta Greg. He stood in the corner of the room, arms folded, his face a mix of fear and sorrow as he looked at his wife. Tracy hurried out of the room and onto the porch. She pulled out her phone, dialing for help—but before she could finish, a black van screeched to a stop in front of the house.

Brian Tracy, a 6 foot male with slicked back hair and a slightly muscular build, walked out of the elevator. He stiffened down the tail of his black blazer as he strolled towards Charles McAllister's office. On his way, he wound his arms around a young woman delivering hard copy mails for the staff. "Did you miss me, Melanie?" he asked. The girl giggled as he wove his hands around her dress, pulling, squeezing and lifting. "Nuh uh, Mr Tracy." she replied playfully. "I didn't even notice you were gone."

No police. She stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes tired. “You can do this, Tracy,” she whispered. “It’s over after tonight.” Her phone buzzed. A message from Victor. Victor: Are you alone? Tracy: Yes. Quick, before someone sees us. A few minutes passed, and then she saw headlights approach. A black SUV pulled up slowly, and Victor stepped out of it in his usual attire: a dark-coloured suit. He looked calm, too calm.

And if he avoided thinking about today, I would stop and do it, as I had told him he would definitely be satisfied with what he would get as a result. "Sir, he has nothing to worry about. I will do it. You can use me as the other part of the experiment," Tracy K said to me, offering to use himself as the experiment lab rat just for us to prove to Mr. Vaughn that we were really serious and we actually knew what we were doing. I already knew that someone would actually volunteer themselves for it, and if I was asked to give a specific name, I would say it was Tracy.

She wondered what it entailed. She would be lying if she said she didn't know about Lucian Lyc's reputation. Tracy had given her quite the gist, one of the reasons Tracy had been reluctant about her going for the interview but now that she saw him up close and personal, she didn't think he was the monster everybody thought he was. She thought he was nice and could not help but wonder what working for him would be like.

She looked nothing like the person who had bullied Mia just days ago. The man slowly stood up, dropped his cigarette butt on the floor, and ground it out with his leather shoe. Tracy flinched at this small action, feeling as if that shoe might step on her next. "Do you want to save the White Group?" he asked. When Tracy understood his question, she nodded frantically. "Yes!" The man said in a deep voice,”Who told you to do those things?" Tracy's mind raced, thinking of her parents' worried faces and everything she had endured today. Finally, with a tearful voice, she said, "It was... it was Vivian Wilson. She told me to do it."

I chuckled softly, "Tracy, you're a renowned star. When you uttered those words to me, did you consider the repercussions if I were to share them on the internet? Do you want your hard-earned image to be tarnished in an instant?" Tracy remained unfazed by my words and smirked triumphantly, "I've been in this industry for years. What haven't I experienced? Remember the last stampede scandal? The entire city was in an uproar, but in the end, it blew over. Why do you think I always get away with it? It is all because of Kingsley. It was true that I lost exposure for a month due to the scandal, but Kingsley still helped me secure a role in The Legend."

Officer Martinez was reminded of the nasty divorce between Celine Anderson and her cheating husband, Roman Morgan, and replied, “Miss Tracy has passed away, and she listed Mr Morgan as her next of kin. Hence, I am here.” It dawned on Celine that Tracy had never forgotten her lover, even though he had abandoned her after their affair was discovered. She swallowed the bitterness in her heart and said, “Please do as you please with Tracy’s body.” Officer Martinez drove back to the Malibu Correctional Services to report that Mr Morgan was missing in action. The prison staff member opened Tracy’s letter and started reading. Tracy indicated that she had donated her whole body for research. She had

My eyes linger on the smooth countertop, tracing the faint scratches in the marble, but my mind drifts far from the kitchen. After a beat, I glance at her. “Tell me about that girl beside Wylie at the party.” Tracy’s grin dies instantly, her whole face hardening as if I’d just flipped a switch. “That bastard?” she spits, the word sharp enough to cut. Her voice drops lower, rougher. “Damian can’t stand him. Always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. And the way he treats women…” Her jaw works, muscle twitching under the skin. “He only goes for girls barely eighteen. Once they hit twenty-two” she slashes a hand through the air, “he gets rid of them. For good.”