Hector Rivera Coco Novels & Stories

She whispered. “Yes, baby.” Storm cooed. “You’re back with mama, daddy, big brudder’s, and Coco.” River looked up and at Marco. Her little eyes lit up. “Coco.” She smiled and held up her arms. Storm released her hold on River, and she quickly scooped up into Marco’s arms. “My Coco.” She lowly growled.

“I’m a man, and I’m not famous. Nobody would care about me. Do you think this Lake guy would still want you after seeing how dirty and hungry you are in bed? All the glamour and whatever he saw in you would just disappear.” Coco couldn't help but take River’s words seriously this time, but upon second thought, it wasn’t as if she had cheated. Her only desire was to delete the videos. “Please, you’ve done enough. I’m not taking the money anymore. Just leave me alone.” River laughed. For some reason, he was well-dressed today and looked extremely desirable, but after meeting a man like Lake, Coco felt absolutely nothing for him. “That is the problem, Coco. The money blinded me before, but your

I say pouring more coffee into my cup. She sits there quietly studying me for a minute before she speaks up “Whose Alec?” Shit, shit shit. I was so focused on getting everything else, I didn’t even think that there was that whole fucking caviat that needed to be censored.I didn’t even want Zac to know and now I blabbered my way into spilling more of my humiliating story. “Uh” I stuttered, not even realizing how badly I was shaking. “Isla?”

Chief Onapuruagu ended the call quickly. "Was that Doctor Mira, what's happening there?" Coco asked curiously. "She said your dad is responding very well and will come out of coma any moment from now." Chief Onapuruagu maintained the forced smiled. "Yay!!" Coco hugged Chief Onapuruagu so tightly, kissing his tasty lips. Chief Onapuruagu tried to stop Coco from drinking further, but she waved her hand in airy dismissal. "It's California wine. It's like drinking water." She took another swallow and giggled. "This is what really deserves a celebration. Best news ever!"

he said flatly, lifting a glass of whiskey to his mouth. Ice clinked as his fingers shifted. I couldn’t help noticing the small, bleeding cuts across his knuckles... and remembering what that man’s face looked like afterward. Goddess, Lorenzo was a sexy brute. “That’s me… Victoria Bian… Greco” I answered, standing there like I was in an interview. “About last night…” “The first time, you didn’t think the Greco family was worthy. You were too ‘precious,’” he cut in coldly, one dark brow lifting.

Everyone present understood what had just happened. Coco was the only one out of the loop. Candice smirked. She could barely contain her amusement. Coco felt humiliated but she could not find a way to recover her flushed face. Thankfully, Rosie did not leave her hanging for too long. She glanced at Coco and asked, “Who are you?” Given the chance to speak, Coco seized the opportunity to explain herself. With a shy and hesitant expression, Coco said, “I... I’m a friend of Mr. Barkworth and Ms. Ivanka. We met in the mountains.”

Coco affirmed. The next day, Coco hosted a livestream, much to the public’s surprise. "Oh my, she’s actually streaming?" "Are you really Lucas Gomez's fiancée?" "Oh my god, she’s so ugly. How can someone like her be Lucas Gomez's fiancée?" "You evil b*tch! How could you ask Lucas Gomez to blacklist Christine for not helping you up? You're disgusting!"

says Hector. -I am, and what's up with that, someone who doesn't stop swallowing strong vodka tells me," says Lucrecia.

“What if I made a mistake?” Her expression softened perfectly, beautifully like she’d practiced it in a mirror. “You didn’t,” she said. “You chose us. And we chose you.” Hector’s phone buzzed. He checked it, eyebrows lifting. “Well,” he said, smirking. “Looks like the Italians aren’t as invincible as they think.” Isolde stood, moving to his side. “What is it?” “Matteo Ricci,” Hector said. “He’s alive. Barely. Still in Texas.”

I can’t skip it. By the time I make it to the training ground, everyone’s already gathered. The chatter dies down as Luna Serena steps forward, her presence commanding. She scans the crowd, her usual calm and authoritative expression firmly in place. “Alright, today’s going to be… fun,” she begins, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The word ‘fun’ sounds like a threat. “I’ve brought in someone special for you all—a combat master.” Excited whispers ripple through the group until she steps aside, revealing a small, unassuming woman with a name tag that reads "Coach Morgan." She’s shorter than anyone here—barely over five feet—with wiry arms and a steely glint in her eye.