Malcolm Ariana Romane & Geschichten

He looked around to face her but he looks so serious. "Tell me. I heard everything. Who are you?" He asked her and Ariana just look down and started crying. ---- Ariana just completed her first mission but failed to keep her secret from Argus Mateo. Will she tell him the truth that she was a woman from a medieval era or continue playing with his feelings?

"We are trying. But Malcom knows our methods. He knows our reach. He’s staying off the grid deliberately. He’s not using cell phones, no credit cards. He’s running this on hardlines and couriers." "He has my son," I whispered. The words scraped my throat raw. "He has Adrian. And Aria." I looked down at my hand. It was trembling. Not from weakness, but from the sheer voltage of the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins for three days straight. I hated this. I hated the waiting. I hated the ‘not knowing.’ I was a man who controlled variables. I manipulated markets, toppled governments, decided who lived and who died before breakfast. But right now, I couldn't control a single damn

I slump back in bed, pulling the blanket over my face. ** Dinner with John Hilly arrived quickly, and once again, I find myself in front of the mirror, getting all dolled up. “I know you hate this part, but look on the bright side. Mr. Malibu knows a lot of famous people. In my entire life, I never thought I’d see John Hilly, let alone hear him play the piano in the house I live in,” Ariana says. “It’s indeed marvelous to meet the man who hid all the massacres in my pack from me,” I respond, causing her to pause with the brush on my face.

Marlon said, intertwining his fingers and swinging the back rest of his chair. "All we know is that he's a doctor. They guy is also believed to be the Mafia's ring leader which I want you to prove if it's true or not." "What makes you think he's the ring leader?" I asked. Suddenly, the door flew open and Mark walked in, staring at his phone throughout. He didn't even spare a glance. He just walked straight to the couch by the window, seemingly unaware of his surrounding. "Sometimes I wonder why and how he's the head of LAPD and not you." I told Marlon.

he shouted, his rage evident. I looked at him, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through me. "Your daughter? Did you just say your daughter? Aria is my child, and you have no right to call her your daughter," I retorted, my voice filled with conviction. Aria was my daughter, and I’m her father. "Mummy!" Aria's voice echoed through the hallway, and I saw her running towards Sierra, who lifted her up. But Dean quickly intervened, taking Aria away from Sierra.

My breath hitches as his tone sends shivers through my body. “I know, Arienne, or Arlo it seems,” whispers Samuel. “Who’s Arlo?” I ask. Arienne turns to me, his eyes black. Something about the coldness in his gaze scares me a little bit. He grips me tighter. “It’s his wolf. He’s rather territorial.”