Novel & Cerita Marco Phoenix

he says clearly blowing smoke out of his mouth on the other end. “You blame me, dude?” I ask. “Nah man I get it,” he says. “Well there is this one chick, she used to work for me, she was reliable and worked hard, moved back to the States recently actually, I can call her,” Marco suggests. “A girl? I dunno man, I can’t do that shit again.” I say not liking that option. “Xavier, your options are limited, why don’t you just come to Madrid and take your pick, I have plenty more options here.” He says knowing my answer already so I don’t even know why he’s even fucking suggesting it again.

Rodrigo… has his adopted son finished carrying out the task assigned to him? Marco's company in Greece is engaged in shipping and became the number one company with a profit rate nearly double from the previous year, he plans to buy a large area of ​​land to be used as a warehouse and some of his company's equipment, on that land a villa will also be built so that one day when he visits, he doesn't need to stay at the hotel anymore… maybe the villa is finished. Even though the document he was viewing was finished with the screen and the computer turned off, he still sat facing the thin black screen.

Marco clenched his fist suddenly, but he didn't have a say this time. He nodded his head instead and turned to leave. He was the one responsible for this after all. His fiance was none other than Miracle Gonzalo, the only mafia princess of the Gonzalo Mafia Family. She was doted on and loved by everyone for her multiple skills in doing lots of things. Mimi, as everyone called her, and Marco had grown up together and when they came of age, they eventually agreed to get married. Marco had even called for an engagement party for them before she left Italy to complete her studies abroad.

"That's impossible. He's dead. He died ten years ago." But I recognized him from the portraits lining the sanctuary's halls. Cassia's son. Kira's older brother. Marcus Phoenix's first attempt at creating a phoenix-wolf hybrid through torture instead of birth. "Cyrus," Marcus Phoenix breathed, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked truly broken. The Shadow Walkers were using him like a living key, his corrupted phoenix fire eating through the sanctuary's wards from the inside out. Every scream that tore from his throat took another layer of protection with it.

For many years, Desmond controlled Lawrence. Flavio’s heart shook, and he didn’t know what to think. Desmond rarely appeared at the company. "Do you know why it’s called Phoenix Tower Corporation?" Esteban asked. "Because I am Desmond Montecillo, the man of the world. I will always rise from the ashes. Phoenix, a symbol of renewal and rebirth." Flavio was so scared that he didn’t know what to say. His forehead was sweating. He couldn’t believe that when Desmond left the mansion at twelve years old, he was already supporting himself.

"And what was that? Who was that Phoenix that the girl said?" Then it took me, the heir of the Phoenix Corporation, to be named Phoenix. I'm not sure since I only see him on the news sometimes. "No way, are you the heir of the Phoenix Corporation?" I asked. Wow, and here I was thinking they were a mafia group or something. The Phoenix Corporation is the top leading corporation in the Philippines. I had heard that the CEO of the corporation was an Australian, Mr. Arthur Hill who migrated to the country and settled down with his Filipina wife.

Cecilia asked, her heart thumping, as her patience was already running out. “Yes mom, but he sent two of his men to represent him, as he couldn't come because of some health issues.” “Well, that's a lie son. Marco is in Manila, he hosted a fashion auction and exhibition with Morgan in Quezon City. My friends sent me the photos.” “No way! This can't be true. Mom, send the photos to me.” Xavier said, his breath getting heavy as his heart began to pound. He turned around to sight Marco's men, but they were gone.

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

Was it the energy from the strong coffee that permeated the building, it seemed, or was it that The Phoenix Initiative was more than just another project; it was the company’s shot at the big leagues, a chance for Denver’s team to prove itself on a national stage. He glanced at the project dashboard in the elevator, watching the numbers tick upward: hours logged, milestones hit, bugs squashed in the eleventh hour. Everything looked on track. But Denver knew better than anyone how quickly things could unravel. And he hadn’t yet negotiated a contract to buy Marcus out of the business, because he was integral to this project. That in itself made him feel uncomfortable and on edge. The only wild