Novel & Cerita Marcello Mob

"Pasensiya na, pero hindi na ako marupok. Marupok with an ed will do. Humanap ka na lang ng iba—'yung kayang-kaya mong paikutin gaya ng ginawa mo sa akin." I am Josefina Erika B. Matienzo, a former Marupok and is now Marupoked.

I thought I saw the name—Rebel—bolded against the bright background. Marcello’s fingers clamped down on the phone. The swift movement of his arm was a stark contrast to the stillness he had maintained while sharing his past. His dark eyes flickered, the vulnerability that had briefly warmed his gaze instantly locking down, replaced by the familiar, cold mask of the Don. "I have to take this," his deep voice dropped into a low, clipped murmur. He didn't wait for my response, already pushing his frame out of the plastic booth. "I'll be right back."

Marcello showed up the day before the product launch press conference. He was waiting at the entrance of DeepBlue Technology, dressed casually in a white shirt and jeans with a paper bag in his hand. As I headed inside, he stopped me. "Valentina!" I hadn't seen him for two months. I noticed that he looked visibly thinner, with prominent dark circles under his eyes. "Is there anything I can help you with?" I asked. Marcello handed me the paper bag, replying, "I brought you this. It's the meat pie you used to enjoy from the place on the east side of town."

someone exclaimed, prompting Danial to turn to face the source of the sound. "This is really Mr. Danial Christiano Wiratama, right?" exclaimed the man, who was none other than Marcello. He was seen with Devan, his cousin. "Are you coming too?" asked Danial. "Of course. After all, I am the managing director of Emmanuel's company," Marcello said, and Danial simply nodded. "Who is this woman? She's very beautiful; where did you find her?" asked Marcello. "None of your business."

a masculine voice came through. Marcel

Mr Valentino whom they were here to meet sat on a sofa with a glass of expensive wine in his hands, he got up his seat when he sighted them, welcoming them with an handshake. He was in his fourties with brown hairs slicked to the back. He had a grey suit on. One man who'd looked like his excort stood behind him clad in black from head to toe. "Benvenuti, signori. Andiamo al sodo." Marcellus spoke when they all sat down. "Signor Marcel, non ci vediamo da molto tempo. Sono arrivato dopo aver ricevuto la tua proposta dalla signorina Shannon." He replied politely.

Marcello said. “I am sure both of you know why we are here,” Marcello added. “You sick bastard!,” Giuseppe cursed. Marcello stepped back holding his hand. “I have both the great Sable and Don Casinni or should I say Former dead Don Casinni,” Marcello laughed I looked over to Giuseppe, I could tell the substance was starting to take effect. A man walked to Giuseppe and untied him, Giuseppe crawled out of the chair to Marcello, he reached out to grab Marcello but the substance had fully taken effect.

They then headed back into the car, with the three of them driving toward the penthouse. But as they came out, Elio and Marcel had both shared a look before Renzo said, “I’m sorry, but we have to get going too.” “What’s happening? I told you to tell me things and not keep me in the dark”. “This is just work, I promise. Anything on the Russian mob, we won’t keep it away from you,” Elio assured. “But Renzo and I have to go right now, but Marcel will be with you, especially with the important event today.”

“We have something to discuss.” And with that, we headed upstairs. Theo took a seat after placing the framed art carefully on the wall of my study. He gave it one last glance, then turned to me, waiting. I stayed standing for a moment, staring at the damn frame like it held the answers to the weight in my chest. “I had a word with Marcello last night,” I began, finally turning around. Theo’s expression shifted. Alert. “He’s still with the Mafia,” I added. “And from what he said, it looks like the famiglia are planning to expand their sails. New ports. New territories.”

“How much, Marcello? Name it.” Marcello’s gaze narrowed, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He stepped even closer, his presence overwhelming now, his body mere inches away from Vincenzo’s. His anger was now palpable, hanging between them like a threat. “You want her? Fine. But you’ll have to give me something for her. Something far more valuable than money. I’m talking about the company you’ve been coveting for years now. The one that’s worth billions.”