Marceline And Marshall Lee Novels & Stories

It had only been minutes after the shooting, but the media were already all over the place, to them news like this was as good as black gold, and they could kill to get the headlines. Paul and his team had arrived at the mall, the gates had been closed, barricaded with police tape and a few agents who posed as security officers, having seen the dead bodies of the agents he had only concluded that they had been killed by Sunday as he made his escape, not only had Sunday committed murder but he had once again threatened the very existence of the agency, and that could not go unpunished, he would have to pay for his actions. Just as they wrapped the bodies in bags, Thomas arrived at the scene,

Inside the living room Marcel clamped the laced cuffs around my wrists and then he opened a wooden trapdoor under a rug and pushed me down. I relayed a message in my head to Ryder, telling them all to get out before Marcel really blew up the whole place. He wasn’t lying, he was too confident in the way he had said it. We were in a dark tunnel and I was pushed forward with the gun prodding my back.

Marceline paused, her wide eyes blinking, "Huh......" I curled my lips, kicking her in the foot. Naturally, I'd be surprised that she could actually forget about her pseudonym - but then again, this was Marceline. Clumsy and cluelessly forgetful. "Ouch!" - She winced, pouting regretfully. Rachel on the other hand had her eyes on the both of us, she must have felt that something was off but couldn't place her hands on what seemed wrong. Marceline chuckled wrily, "You think so?"

Marella was short, slim, in other words, she was tiny but fierce and Lee obeyed her like a soldier would his general. Seeing this side of Lee was a surprise every single time. He never displayed his emotions, until Marella appeared in his life, that is. Kelley opened the diner’s door and froze in his steps as he looked at the girl sitting in the back booth. “Your girlfriend’s here.” Mason nudged Kelley in the ribs. “She’s not my girlfriend.” Lee gave him a half smile. “Yet, she’s not your girlfriend yet.”

It wasn't from Jennifer, but from Julian, who had used the last of his strength to shoot Marcel in the shoulder from a distance. Marcel’s grip loosened. He clutched his blood-stained shoulder, glaring at Julian with murderous intent. However, the sound of police sirens began to echo in the distance. Marcel knew his time was up. "Enjoy your remaining time, Jennifer. Marcus is waiting for you at the bottom of the sea," Marcel shouted as he ran towards a motorcycle hidden behind the bushes and sped away, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Jennifer wasted no time. She snatched the spare car keys from Julian. "Julian, you must stay here until help arrives. Protect Aurora!"

“Marcel is Shirley’s husband.” Because his two children had absolutely no hope, Herman finally came forward himself to persuade Marcel. “Wait a moment!” Herman called as he walked closer. “Cel, think again. Especially your parents’ debt, we will really feel the loss if you leave.” Marcel was stunned, Lista then took the matter out of his hands. “We will help to pay off Marcelino’s parents’ debt,” said Lista. “Your wallet and cell phone are with me, come in quickly.” He then turned to look at Marcel.

Anderson Sullivan, with a calculating glint in his eyes, observed Marvis from across the table. "Isn't it fascinating, Mother?" Anderson whispered to Charlotte, his girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. "Marvis is not as docile as she seems. She's up to something." Charlotte, her eyes fixed on Marvis, smirked. "Maybe it's time we dig deeper. We can't let her disrupt our plans." Days turned into weeks, and Marvis faced a growing sense of isolation within the Sullivan mansion. The hostility escalated as Anderson orchestrated events to further strain Marvis and Jace's fragile relationship. Secret conversations echoed in the dimly lit corridors, where alliances were formed and broken.

It was quiet now. Marla was peeling an apple while Marshall lay in bed, seemingly watching the TV across the room. But the volume was low, and his mind clearly wasn't on it. "Dylan is a good man," Marla suddenly said. Hearing this, Marshall turned to look at her. The meaning in his gaze was clear, but Marla ignored it and continued, "If Seline were still alive, I would've definitely had her marry Dylan." Marshall immediately frowned and said, "Why are you saying things like that again?"

But with triumph. And beneath that, a flicker of something else—possession. Marceline forced another smile, her spine straight despite the weight dragging at her chest. She was now Mrs. Cross Dejeva. And this was not the beginning of a happily ever after. This was the prologue of a beautifully disguised war.

Marcel was already there, drinking away as like nothing were bothering him. Although Williams appeared composed when he entered, there was a noticeable sense of anxiety in the room. "Marcel, you've gone too far," Williams replied in a low, menacing voice. Marcel's eyebrows went up. "I have no idea what you're discussing." Williams angrily slammed a folder down the table and said, "Don't act stupid." "We recognise you. Everything points to you, including the emails and leaks." As Marcel opened the folder and looked through its contents, his grin wavered. He appeared truly shaken for the first time.