Lorraine And Marco Novel Novels & Stories

Marco lay weakly on the cold floor, his lips dried up after the torture a few minutes ago. There were fresh wounds from almost every part of his body. He was bleeding profusely and his fist was clenched in intense pain. Lorenzo clicked his tongue in satisfaction and turned to leave. But when he got to the door, he stopped, turning to look at Marco. “Have a nice day, Marco." He said and walked out of the place. Marco muttered curses under his breath and closed his eyes, falling into an unconscious state.

I will never back down till I make him feel the indistinguishable pain I’ve felt all these years. Himself, his family and his new bride. I’ll rip them apart like rags and throw them into the streets of Rome. I will show them what pain and suffering look like, and how it was for me in the past six years. Only then would he know what true suffering is. Only then would he know the torment that has been my companion all these years. And Sir Marco, father to Aurora, he won’t go unscathed in this war. He has been allied with them for the longest and he also has a hand in my ruin. Good thing his daughter is now in Rocco’s household, killing two birds with one stone.

"I have been secretly hiding on the West Coast all these years. The only thing that kept me alive was the thought of our future. How could I stand by and watch you play the doting wife to my crippled brother?" I scoffed and replied, "A future with me? You nearly killed me. We don't have a future together." Marco grabbed my shoulders and shouted. "Listen to me! The enemy has killed Leonora. Once I get rid of Romolo and become the Santis family's Don, we can go anywhere we want and start over." "Start over? You pushed me into the abyss, Marco. You!" I hissed. Marco leaned in to kiss me. He wouldn't let go even after I bit down on his lip.

The curtains shivered in the night wind, a soft rustle that masked the click of the lock. Marco Moretti stepped in, bringing a cloud of stale rye and tobacco that soured the air. He kicked the deadbolt home. Thud. "You’re in the wrong zip code, Marco," Lina said, her drawl scraping against the silence. She backed up until the cold plaster bit into her spine. "I’m exactly where I need to be," Marco replied, his voice a flat, dead line.

“I’ll let them know.” “Tell her.” Saint hisses at me. “Leni, um…” My cheeks turn hot. Not sure why? I have nothing to be embarrassed about. “Bronx, what’s wrong?” She sits up. I help her swing her legs around so she can face me while she uses my leg as a backrest. “About Marco…” I lower my chin and study her. She mimics my posture. “He found his mate at Lune D’or.” Lenora freezes up. She looks at me without blinking. I can’t tell if she’s holding her breath or not.

“So we reached out to Marco. He was happy to offer his help, and it turns out his wife, Musu, is a historian. She has access to records that I can’t even fathom. So… um… I’ll let her tell you the rest.” Marco’s wife steps forward with a broad smile. Her deep skin tone and wide-set eyes give her an exotic look. She hands Dad the envelope with a slight bow and waits while he opens it. He looks at the three pages from old books and scrolls that show a sigma mark that looks just like Orli’s.

“The Espositos are having a party tomorrow night.” I groan. “You mean Bruno Esposito is having a party.” “Exactly.” “Elora, Marco is only out of town for two days. Don’t you think this is a bad idea?” She shrugs, unbothered. “What Marco doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I bite my lip, the knot in my stomach tightening. Elora doesn’t see the danger in what she’s doing. To her, it’s just fun and games—Marco buys her expensive things, Bruno flirts with her at parties, she's playing both of them--and loving it.

he whispered hoarsely into the silence of the room, his thumb gently stroking the kiss mark. His gaze turned into a sharp, mocking glint. "That's why that bastard dared to take you away from me so easily." Marco's jaw clenched every time he remembered how Jonah had so brazenly laid his hand on her body and tried to hide her from him. He barely found her after contacting all of the hospitals in town. "Look. He wasn't even by your side when you lay helpless." Marco's thumb stroked Hazel's pulse with slight pressure. "How could you convince me that you and he were going to get married? How... ridiculous. A pathetic lie, but I think I'll play along with your game a little longer."

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.”