Lorraine And Marco Novel Free Novels & Stories

Enzo yells, stepping forward, his hands in fists. He throws a punch. It lands—sloppy, grazing Marco’s jaw. For a second, I hope this won’t escalate. It does. Marco’s fist flies—once, twice, three times. Brutal, precise. Enzo stumbles back and hits the ground with a heavy thud. Blood spills from his lip. I scream his name, stumbling toward the space between them, but Marco’s hand clamps my wrist tighter. “Marco, stop!” I yell, crying, mascara blurring into black rivers down my cheeks. “You’re going to kill him!”

She needed someone to talk to—someone outside the walls of her own doubt. “You look exhausted,” Lorena said, leaning against the doorway. “Last night must have been… intense.” Aria blinked, surprised by the empathy. “You could say that.” Her voice was cautious but grateful. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think he’d lose control like that.” Lorena’s eyes glinted. “He’s human, you know. Even Lucian Moretti has limits.” The words planted a seed, subtly steering Aria toward a false sense of safety. Lorena made mental notes as she smiled, her every gesture calculated. Every laugh, every question, every shared concern was a step closer to Marco’s plan.

I still have not opened Marco's letter but I will after I finish with everyone. Marilyn was recognised by Marco because he knew her father Luciano and Marilyn was ready to marry Marco at some point. He stood to face the family and was as cold as ever. It is as if Marco was resist back to being a monster with a deadly ivy as his equal. He looked at me and examined my face and clothes before looking away. I was praying he remembers me but he did not and that got me a sneered look from Giorgia before they proceed med to his room.

“Oh, God… I—” Marco held up his hands gently. “Aurora, you’re beautiful, okay? Like… really beautiful. But…” He paused, clearing his throat, “I’m gay.” Aurora’s heart plummeted. “Wait… what?” Marco laughed softly. “Yeah. Kind of been gay since forever.” Aurora blinked rapidly, her cheeks burning, her whole body crumbling with embarrassment. “Oh my God… I feel like such an idiot.” Marco smiled warmly, placing a hand over hers. “You’re not. You’re just… overwhelmed. And maybe a little lonely.”

As I was arranging decorations for the Christmas exhibition, Sarah ran over, looking pale. "Boss, bad news," she said. "Marco Corvini landed in L.A. yesterday." The crystal ornament in my hand almost slipped. "What?" "He and his pregnant wife are checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel," Sarah went on. "Word is, the Corvini family is in deep trouble back in Chicago." My heart started to pound. Marco was in L.A. With Isabella. "What kind of trouble?" I asked. Sarah pulled up a news feed on her tablet.

She flinched, her phone nearly slipping from her manicured fingers. "What the—who the hell are you?!" Marco clenched his jaw until the tendons in his neck threatened to snap. The suffocating aura of a man on the edge radiated from his body. "The Jonah you just mentioned..." Marco’s voice dropped into a lethal, gravelly growl. "Was that Jonah Bennet?" Jenny pressed herself flat against the bricks, cigarette smoke escaping her trembling lips. "Yeah. What’s it to you, freak?" "And Hazel Quinn," Marco ignored her, stepping an inch closer. "A brunette? Wears glasses?"

Its steady ticking was the only thing grounding him in reality, assuring him he was not trapped inside the labyrinth of Leonard Virelli’s nightmares. “You’re drifting again,” Marco’s voice broke the silence. Marco stood near the window, his eyes scanning the street below. Even though they were no longer under the Virelli banner, his protective instincts had not faded. He wore a gray polo shirt, but the outline of the weapon at his waist was unmistakable to a trained eye. “Just thinking about the next chapter of my new novel, Marco,” Dante said quietly. “You’re a terrible liar, Dante. You’re thinking about Alaska.”

Marco stuttered out of nowhere. "I'm not interested anymore, get it! " she said and attempted to walk away when Marco grabbed her right hand. He bit his lips trying to calm his nerves."Let go of me. How did I end up getting married to you?" Marco is in a state of shock as he witnesses this new version of Sofia. Of course, the other version of Sofia that he knew wouldn’t dare talk back at him. Marco smiled for the first time and muttered. “Please let us go out together, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for leaving you alone at home,"

Her foot slipped on the gravel, but Lorien caught her swiftly, his hands firm around her arms. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, his brows furrowed as her eyes glinted. The realization hit him that she must have inhaled the Mare flowers. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, his tone pretentious. Naya’s lips curved into a slow, dreamy smile. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He couldn't be worried because, at that time, he was busy staring at Alora and Anton, thinking of how to marry her and kill him at the same time." I groaned, gripping the edge of my table. There was nothing to chuck at his head this time. "You guys are so stupid. I'm going to bed." "Uh-huh, you're going to bed. Or are you going to where Alora is? I know you kept her in your bed." "Oh my God, we could title their love story: Tied to His Bed," Vittoria beamed, clapping her hands. "No, she isn't tied. She's trapped," Marco corrected. "I think she loves her trap though. She’ll never admit it. The two denying lovebirds here."