Romans & histoires Ice Age Voice Of Diego

“Wait—are you messing with me?! You heartless jerks!” Diego adjusted his slightly crooked gold glasses and spoke coldly: “Come take a look at her. See how she’s doing.” ***

“I’m giving you one last chance. Tell me where that b*tch is, or f**k you, I’m going to—” “Diego, you vile, unforgivable miscreant!” Lysithea’s voice boomed from one of the speakers, interrupting whatever sick threat Diego had to say. “You killed your own kind! Sicut In Caelo will deal with you, and I’ll be bringing this up to the Saint personally too. Your days are numbered, Diego!”

Evelyn muttered with cold sweat dripping down her temples. Diego didn't respond to Evelyn or Renza, he walked over to Evelyn with an indescribable smile. Sniffing the scent of Evelyn's blood continuously, it reells good to the Vampire nation. "I will become immortal after drinking holy blood," Diego said with a booming laugh, he looked at Evelyn and quickened his footsteps. "Do not!" Evelyn kept backing away until she hit a tree behind her. "Don't come near Evelyn!" Renza shouted to stop Diego, kicking Diego's back with all his might.

But underneath all of that, something far more dangerous simmered quietly in his chest. The moment he stepped onto the ice, whispers rippled. Sabastian smiled as his eyes focused on him. “Oh my gosh, he is looking cuter now.” “Another person said, “That’s him.” Another asked, “The transfer student?” “I heard he’s talented, but a bit of trouble.” Leon smirked to himself unaware “Bunch of gossippers, none of your talks mattered anyway.” His eyes were already searching for the only person he came to the Hillary campus for.

Why didn't I hear them earlier? “W-What—what the hell is going on here?” My voice sounds thick, foreign even to my ears. They finally notice me, and Diego looks up, shocked and surprised but was able to hide it almost immediately before a cruel smirk blooms on his face. “Oh. It’s you.” His voice is nonchalant as he tugs on his pants. “Di..Diego...” I swallow, my fingers trembling, disbelief washing over me in waves. “What’s happening here? Diego, you better start talking els…”

Alen said. Diego shook his head, giving his friends a strange look. He had to shake his head and cluck his tongue for Ben to raise his eyebrows. Ben said, "Why are you clucking your tongue? Is something weird?" Diego rolled his eyes pleadingly, "Of course." "What? What's weird?" Ben asked with an innocent look. Diego gritted his teeth, staring at Ben with a super lazy stare. "Oh my God! You guys are weird, so weird."

I demanded, my voice low and steely. He removed his mask, revealing himself to be Diego Marino, shock coursed through me like an electric current. How was this possible? I had killed him, I was so sure of it. My voice laced with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, I managed to utter, "Diego Marino? But... how?" Diego's laughter reverberated through the room, his eyes glinted with a twisted satisfaction as he spoke, his words dripping with malicious intent. "I came back from the grave to mess with you," he proclaimed, his voice laden with malice.

Diego's smile faltered slightly under the intense gaze, while Javier watched, hoping this personal introduction would finally break the ice. Javier sighed deeply, trying to convey a sense of urgency and sincerity. "Mr. Lowes, there's something you might not know. Until recently, Diego was a highly valued senior engineer with the government. He was in charge of a major project, but he was framed and unjustly fired. The person responsible is an uneducated woman who has become a disaster for the project."

If César's tech team was still monitoring Diego's comms—and I knew they were—the clock was already ticking. But I couldn't stop. "I have a son, Diego," I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. "His name is Marcello. He's two. He has dark curls and... he has so much energy. He says carro. He's perfect, Dee." "A nephew," Diego whispered, his voice cracking. "I have a nephew. Does he... does he look like us?" "He looks like a mix," I lied, unable to tell him that Marcello had the eyes of the devil who was hunting us. "He's beautiful. I wish you could see him. I wish I could come home."

John's voice resounded in the ice rink. I turned to Roy with disbelief and only then did the latter realize what he had done. But even then, he looked unapologetic. "Oops," Roy sheepishly smiled.