Guy Germaine Novels & Stories

“There’s no way that I can be the first person in. I’ve got a hangover.” “Gary was in for a short while but, as you can imagine, I thought it was better if he went home.” “And how’s Eddie doing?” Robert is the only one who calls him Eddie, and never to his face. “He’s not going to be in today. I can understand why. That was his first really bad wound.” Robert smiles humourlessly. “I’ve still got that honour to look forward to.”

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

“My name, like yours, is a half truth.” I blinked at him. That was the moment, the moment all secrets would be revealed. “What is your name?” His gaze locked on mine. “Giovanni Domenico Mancini Ferrante. My father is Giovanni Ferrante, head of the Ferrante family.” My stomach dropped. The room seemed to spin and I grabbed hold of him, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re a Ferrante?” Of all the secrets, I was not expecting that. “Technically, yes.”

the man continued. Chateau glanced at Gabriel and Aurora, eager to gauge their reaction, only to be stunned. Both appeared shocked—Aurora looked ready to cry, her trembling hands covering her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gabriel, too, was visibly shaken. Who was this man to provoke such emotions? "Oh, let me introduce myself first," the stranger declared with a smirk. "I’m Louis. Louis Chaloux." The crowd turned toward him in unison, and those familiar with the name reacted visibly. For those like Chateau, who didn’t recognize him, Louis clarified, "Or more precisely, Louis Levere."

“I know. I’ll talk to her.” “Ms. Adams, in the front.” Mr. Glassman pointed to an empty seat which was unfortunately next to the guy who embarrassed me in front of the entire school. “I’m more comfortable back over there, Mr. Glassman.” “Comfortable talking with Ms. Cooper, I presume. Stop sulking and sit down, Ms. Adams.” He looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer so I took a deep breath and placed my book the desk. “Unbelievable.” I mumbled under my breath and sat down next to Tyler Cummings. I peered at him from the corner of my eyes. He was wearing a grey oversized hoodie as usual along with his glasses and his hair was a messy and I noticed that it was pretty long, curling

🖌️-----Épisode 00-------🖌️ 💲 La colère d'une femme amoureuse 💲 🎀Auteur : Judi le Romantique Plume🎀 🖌️-------Épisode 1--------🖌️ Aujourd'hui je suis fatigué, je t'ai regardé dormir et si ma voix peut t'apaiser je chanterai pour toi toute la nuit................. Bonjour, je m'appelle Jean Marie Vianney mais mes amis m'appelle en abrégé JMV. Je suis issue d'une famille modeste et j'ai deux frères ( Maurice et Paulin). Comme vous pouvez le constater, la musique c'est mon passe temps préféré et mon artiste c'est Dadju.

"Since we don't know each other I'd try not to see that as an insult. What I am is not important for now, but you can Google me, I'm a restaurateur." "My ass." Logan wasn't looking too pleased. I guess he didn't like anyone being more of a spook than him. Mancini just smiled and pulled up a seat like he owned the place. One thing was clear; this was no biker type. He's exactly what I would've been if Elena had got her hooks in me as a teen. He was well dressed, well groomed and I guess what the women would call fuck hot. There wasn't a hair out of place and butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. But it was in the eyes; they were the eyes of a killer.

I purse my lips but I don’t refuse, I might’ve even jumped at the opportunity with an internal smile. Not more than three minutes later, while I’m still struggling to dice the tomatoes as perfectly as Madam C ordered, a young gentleman I’ve most likely seen before, walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to get himself a glass of orange juice. Beside me, Madam C claps her hand, the look of utter disbelief on her face as she turns to me, eyes wide. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I stumble over my words, my heart pounding against my chest, worried.

She nodded her head and proceeded to type on the computer. "Ah yes. You're Hunter Romani correct?" "Correct." "And this will be your third time visiting with detective Mariano?" "Yes." She didn't say anything else after that. Just kept typing on her computer until she grabbed the phone and called someone. "Detective Mariano, you have a Hunter Romani waiting for you in the lobby." She looked up at me and gave me a little smile. I nodded my head and looked away. Feeling like crying but I was doing my best to hold it in.

A man approached her, nodding appreciatively towards her, reaching for her hand. He spoke in a heavy French accent, smiling charmingly at her, offering his hand, “Bonsoir, ma jolie. I couldn’t help but notice you. I’m Clément Pelletier, chief executive of pharmaceutical firm, Novéa. Would you like to dance and perhaps we could chat a little?”