Izutsumi X Marcille Novels & Stories

"Alright, I'll take that, Miss." When the lady took the wine from the display rack to box and pack it, my eyes instinctively looked for Cedrick Miguel. I saw him talking to a salesman, and the latter was presenting him with a very expensive-looking wine. As the man stated, he chose a 1949 Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru.

"He's susceptible to brunettes with accents." I exhaled. "I'll attempt it." — I saw Marco that night in the basement, inspecting wine crates. A thin man with an always furrowed brow and sour disposition. The kind who believed in silence being power but whose eyes darted everywhere. "I'm looking for something dry," I said, tracing a hand along the bottles. "But not so bitter that it hangs on the tongue." He regarded me. "Try the Montepulciano. Shelf number two."

It was perfect for today, though. She ordered the Cozze al Vino Bianco, a light dish of mussels in a garlicky white wine, and paired it with a 2022 Terlan Quarz Sauvignon Blanc. She was delighted by the complex notes of citrus, mango, and tropical fruits when the server poured a sample, and she nodded, indicating she was pleased with the selection.

Mr Valentino whom they were here to meet sat on a sofa with a glass of expensive wine in his hands, he got up his seat when he sighted them, welcoming them with an handshake. He was in his fourties with brown hairs slicked to the back. He had a grey suit on. One man who'd looked like his excort stood behind him clad in black from head to toe. "Benvenuti, signori. Andiamo al sodo." Marcellus spoke when they all sat down. "Signor Marcel, non ci vediamo da molto tempo. Sono arrivato dopo aver ricevuto la tua proposta dalla signorina Shannon." He replied politely.

she added. "How did you know about that?" Robert curiously asks. Even he was in awe at how Skye recognized the label. "Ahm...I had it once at one of the parties I attended. I got curious so I searched it up" After clearing her throat, she casually explains. "How about mine, what wine do I have?" A woman beside their table reaches out her glass to her. She did what she did to her glass earlier, and a smile carved her face. "Cielo Cabernet Sauvignon 1910. The same varietal and cult wine. But unlike Azure, Cielo has a bigger production at 400 to 500 crates per year" Skye returns the glass to the woman.

Today’s class seemed a little boring for me, and I wasn't the only one who thought about it that way; Mrs. Lisa ended her class by assigning everyone to a group assignment; she gave us a file and anyone who we find; the name at the file that is next to ours is our partner. Candy's partner was Cynthia; she wasn't that thrilled about it; Cynthia can be such a buss kill and over serious; I refused to open my file; I feel like I do, I might not like who I see at the file.

But I was no fool, I knew that this expression was not one that came with happiness or grace. “Come closer,” Luna Isobel said. “I didn’t call for you to stand like a statue.” I did, holding my breath for one second before I forced myself to be composed. Her eyes dropped immediately, to my collarbone, my neck, where the marks Marcel had left were impossible to miss. She stared for a second longer than necessary, lips thinning. I wanted to cover them, but Marcel wouldn’t allow it… I believed that it was his own way of showing the claim he was having over me.

"Mr. Cruz please take a taste. I want this ignorant thugs to know that they messed up with the wrong person today." Joey Cruz nodded and smiled as he swirled the wine around for a few moments. after that he closed his eyes and put the grass under his nose to get a whiff of its scent. A satisfied expressions appeared on his face immediately. He took a light see from the glass and immediately looked in chanted by its taste. He opened his eyes after. "It's the unmistakable face of Château Margaux 1787." He exclaimed excitedly the moment Joey Cruz said that, Angela's expressions turned into one horror.

Mateo motioned the server over to me so that I could try the wine first. He approached me, uncorking the bottle, and gently pouring it into my wine glass. "Chateau Lafite Rothschild from Pauillac, France. Dated 1844." He put an extra uumpf into pronouncing the French words with more emphasis. I nodded my head in appreciation, although I had no idea what all those words and numbers meant.

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.”