Chilchuck X Marcille Novels & Stories

Chiara walked past an oak partition with a small staircase attached to it that twisted in a circular motion to the bottom, where bottles of fine vintage wine were lined up neatly in a huge wooden cabinet from the ceiling to the floor on all four sides. "Well what do you think?!" Chiara Langlo looked before reconsidering the rows of wine bottles... "Bottles of white wine in the lower section, and bottles of Marlotte and Cabrinet in the upper section of the shelves." Angelo liked her way of talking to him. In fact, I felt that he was a human being that she dealt with without having any bad intentions or motives behind her. She did not care about the level of his wealth or his high status, yet

A good-natured chuckle rumbled from behind me. “Look at the lovebirds, so engrossed in each other!” Maximilian said, walking up the path towards us with Vivian and Steven in tow. I stepped away from Michelle and hid my clenched fists at my sides. She placed a delicate hand over her mouth and blushed coyly—not a trace of her defiant glare to be seen. Vivian stepped forward and handed her a bottle of champagne. Michelle accepted it with a delighted smile. “Dom Pérignon P3, aged twenty-five years. What a treat!”

And for a moment, I let myself pretend that things weren’t broken between us. When we pulled apart, I gave him a look that said I didn’t want to talk anymore. “We should probably go get that drink now.” We descended the stairs to the wine cellar, which was dim and lined with new and old bottles of expensive drinks. William moved ahead, unlocking the glass cabinet near the far wall. He reverently ran his fingers over the labels before finally selecting a bottle. “1967 Château Margaux,” he murmured. “One of the last drinks my grandfather collected himself.”

One can play that game. I smiled confidently at him. “Nope, not that. It will ruin the flavor of scallops.” I forced myself to relax my shoulders and straighten my chin. “I would rather pick Larrivet Haut-Brion. Do you have this? It is an intense and subtle wine with a hint of vanilla. It will blend perfectly with this delicacy.” Am I really chatting about wine and scallops with Gabriel Stark? A small smile appeared on his beautiful face. Damn. I couldn’t seem to get enough of his young and dynamic features, a shadow of a beard on his jaw that made him much sexier and manly, and a fine haircut.

he noted and asked Eric he ordered "Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru" He noted it down and left. Just after a minute he came back and kept our wines in front of us. I noticed he kept a small chit under my glass of wine. I looked at him and he winked at me. I opened it and it was written "Meet me outside the kitchen"

It took her a while, but when she could think of nothing else to offer them without being so blatantly obvious that it would get her fired, she finally gave them another pile of napkins and went to check her other tables. Picking up his spoon, Keegan said, “Well, might as well lay it on me.” Then he dug into his chili with such relish Marc wondered what it was exactly that was in this chili. “Aye.” Marc paused, running his well-rehearsed words through his mind. But in the end, he decided there was no sense in beating around the bush. “They’re comin’.” “Who?” Jace asked with an impatient tone. “The soul suckers.” Marc took a big bite of his chili and moaned with approval. He took another bite

Her gaze was fixed on mine as she received the glass of wine from me. “Go on. Taste it,” I urged. Her eyes fell to the glass in her hand and she stared at it for a few seconds before putting it to her lips. She started with a sip, then she went on to deplete the wine by half. Humming in satisfaction, she held the glass up. “Damn. This is good.” She sounded like a young girl that had just received a wonderful present. I let out an amused chuckle at the sight. “Château Margaux, 2015.”

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

Councilman De Luca. The name has shown up three separate times now, attached to offshore transactions that connected directly to companies linked to both the Morretti family and the Garcino. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but coincidence didn't repeat itself this neatly. Nothing about this was random. I grabbed another page from the stack beside me, comparing the dates again. My chest tightened slowly as another connection clicked into place. “Fuck,” I whispered. I slid the paper towards him. “Look at the dates.”

Small mercies. "Champagne?" Marcos is already gesturing to a server. His hand moves through the air with practiced ease, catching the server's attention without seeming to demand it. "Dom Pérignon? Krug? Whatever you prefer." "Krug," Sophie says immediately. "The vintage." "Excellent choice." Sophie is watching Marcos with open appreciation. Not the predatory assessment from before. Something lighter. More playful. The pink light makes her skin glow, makes her eyes sparkle, makes her look younger somehow. Less armored.