Manolo Sanchez Novels & Stories

Carmen's POV The first result was a W i k i p e d i a page. The photograph at the top showed a man in a white football jersey, arms spread wide after a goal, stadium lights shining behind him, thousands of people on their feet. The face was the same face that had been watching me from the pillow twenty minutes ago. Andre Fernandez is a Spanish professional footballer who plays as a winger for La Liga club Real Numancia and the Spain national team. Known for his exceptional dribbling, pace and agility, he is considered one of the best left-footed right wingers in the world.

I fixed my ass on the couch. “What?”… “I know you will be mad, Max. But trust me, it has nothing to do with the nutcase lady or her father.” I leaned a little, reaching for a corkscrew, and I screwed off the cork of the bottle. “I’m not fucking mad at you, Leo. I’ve always known you as someone who fucking does things with motives behind it. So what’s the fucking tea? Spill it.” Serving the glasses, “My body has yet to fully recover after the face out with the Maranos. I don’t want your sister to see me as incapable during….” I slid a glass to him.

“And let’s not forget, he’s the one who turned Zack into a human punching bag, not Elijah.” Zoe opens her mouth to retort, but before she can get a word out, a familiar middle-aged man in a crisp hotel uniform approaches our table. His nametag reads Daniel, and his polite smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Excuse me, are you Miss Zoe?” he asks, his gaze flickering between us. Zoe freezes for half a second, then points at me. “Nope, that’s her." “Seriously?” I roll my eyes at her and glance back at Daniel. “What’s the problem?”

and I wouldn't stop. We stayed like that for a few seconds. Him staring at me, as though he's looking for something in my eyes. Then almost reluctantly and with that infuriating smug smirk on his lips he released my hair and turned to the man. I notice the table was empty firstly and that the man stood on the other side of the round table with a few men at his back. Enzo looked at him with a bored frown. "Can I help you?" "Sí, Mr. Corretti," He said with a Mexican accent and I sat up. "I am Sancho Moreno. I didn't know you would be here but since I found you, Don X sends his regards."

He said while he cocked his head to the side. "Alpha Alcander. The most powerful. Most ruthless, and most feared Alpha. You have no mercy on anyone." He said while he shook a little, and jumped when Alcander hand clamped around his shoulder. "The most feared." He turned around and gave me a wicked smile. I glared at him while my fist closed at my sides.

"Who do you think you are to sit in front of Mr. Ibrahim? You must have a broad background, don't you?" Apollo straightened in his seat, swallowing nervously as he looked at his boss. Sandoval didn’t know anything about Esteban. "Esteban Fajardo Montecillo," Esteban replied firmly and coldly. Sandoval burst into laughter, unable to believe what he heard.

I’m just hoping it’ll not rain or else I’ll get no sleep. “I’m sorry,” I lift my head to see the man I am looking for these past days to some and help me. “Angelo, you’re here,” I said sobbing. He kneeled down to cup my face and wipe my tears out. “I hesitated when I realized you are a Sagittarius, I’m sorry. Seeing you like this changed my mind,” he continued though I don’t understand a word. I don’t want to understand anything too. All I want is to get out. “Please help me.” “I will.”

The smile on his face is taunting, allowing me to see that he knows more about me than I do about him. "I see you got my message," he notes, pointing down to the paper I still hold in my hand. A lump gathers in my throat as I glance down at it. I don't think I can handle not knowing anything about this man for another second, especially with the probability of Malik walking back in here being so high. "I've never seen you before," I say slowly. "How did you even manage to get up here?" "Let me firstly introduce myself," he says politely. He holds his hands out, and I see his hands are encased in strange ebony velvet gloves. "I'm known most commonly as Fate."

So much made sense, and all bad thoughts of his mother disappeared. He nodded. “My siblings have hated me for not only being the child of a mistress, but because our father gave me his name. I’ve gone by Domenico since I was six, unable to stand being called Giovanni. Then started using Mancini as my last name when I was eighteen.” “That’s why you command so much respect.” Santiago had called him sir. At the time I thought it was odd, but there was too much going on to think on it for long.

I inhale the decadent scent of the chocolate ganache filling, they look good, and I hope they taste as good too. Ugh, I hope Zac likes it. Killing the heat on the range, I turn to grab the plates. I gasp, as a pair of glowing sapphire eyes are silently studying me. Zac is leaning against the door frame, with his large forearms crossed across his bare, hard chest. Why does he have to be so damn sexy? I can’t help but let my eyes wander down to the only article of clothing he’s wearing- grey sweatpants. My stomach knots at the sight. The sweats hang low on his hips and his not-so-little friend is making his presence well known.