Marco X Jean Novels & Stories

“I shouldn’t have commented.” “Aurora will calm down in an hour,” he said confidently - like he knew her bone-deep. “I will try and make myself scarce around her, or anyone else who has a problem with me. I don’t want to stir any trouble anymore.” Marco’s uneasy look turned cool and casual. “We know exactly how to invite trouble.” He smirked. “Speaking of—” His eyes trailed up and down my height, clearly judging my oversized jumper and yoga pants. “Do you own any casual dresses?”

When I stepped into Viktor’s office that morning, ready to inform him that he had a pack of idiots running the South Warehouse—men who couldn’t tell good crack from rat poison—I found him lounging on the couch. Marco. He sat there like he owned the place, dressed in a sky-blue button-down that clung to his broad shoulders, and white slacks tailored to perfection. His dark hair was freshly cut, styled just enough to look effortless. That face—sharp angles, smoky eyes, a mouth curved in an arrogant, knowing smirk—made it painfully clear he was used to getting whatever the hell he wanted. Dangerous, handsome, and Italian to his core, he exuded the kind of confidence that made men nervous and wo

I was a bit nervous to come out of the car knowing there was a large possibility the paparazzi would recognize me. It was the unveiling event to present to the public Blue's secret latest accessories collection in collaboration with their biggest sponsor, the Van Diaz group, owned by the De Marco family. Without a doubt, Xander would be in this event unless God would finally walk in my favour, but when was the last on my side? Whenever an event is related to the De Marco name always expect to see the best out of the best in luxury. The theme for the decorations was white, so every intricate part of the design, from the polished marble floor to the ceiling designs made with plaster of Paris,

m. "Talk to Xena to manage the club well. Fortunately, she didn't meet me today because she's still abroad. If not, maybe I would question the effectiveness of her work so far," Marco said, making Pedro just nod. Marco indeed had some trusted people like Xena, who managed his club. Xena could be considered a friend whom Marco trusted to manage his assets. This time, his friend was abroad on leave from work, which made Marco somehow not too concerned about whatever he wanted to do.

she murmured in appreciation. Marco's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sheer amusement in her voice. Grace turned her attention to the suited man standing before her, holding the letter as she gave him a curious look. "Are you KS?" she asked with an arched brow, oblivious to Marco's looming presence behind her. Xy who was ever composed, gave a short shake of his head. "I am merely the delivery man." Grace scoffed, holding the flowers tightly. "A delivery guy in a custom-made suit?"

Marct pointed out. looking at the two closely, while Jackson had black jeans, Marct had white jeans. They both wore the same black and white short sleeves. Marct had black combat boots to pair with the outfits. "Oh my God, yes. What a coincidence," Samantha said. Marct went around, meeting the rest of the crew. Just like with Borax, things grew tense when he got to Bastian. I was paying attention to the way they were eyeing each other earlier. Bastian and Marct were giving off the same energy.

lucky him! “Are we going to your house or not? I thought you are ready!” Marky muttered. “I’m ready now!” he stands up on his swivel chair and gets his coat that hangs from the back of his chair. Zandro uses the usual suit he wore in every event of their family, a functional but high class well-tailored black three-piece suit emanating a very powerful and authoritative aura he had. While Marky uses a sober navy blue suit, both of their features are what a woman can die for. Zandro has a rugged look while Marky has the boy next door feature. They are opposite but they became friends for a long time now.

Seeing the Moretti brand on him could skyrocket my sales. “A perfect plan,” I muttered, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I drafted an email. *** Email to Chris Bruno Mars Dear Fashionista Chris Bruno Mars, I hope this message finds you well. My name is Gabriel Moretti, and I am the founder of Moretti Shoes, a brand dedicated to combining elegance, comfort, and innovation in footwear. Your impeccable style and influence in the fashion industry have inspired countless individuals. I believe your unique presence aligns perfectly with the vision and ethos of our brand. It would be an honor to collaborate with you as a brand ambassador, showcasing our latest collections and embodying the es

“I want more.” “Not on the menu.” He leaned forward. “Everything has a price, Anderson.” My name on his tongue felt like a key turning in a lock I didn’t know existed. Before I could answer, Marco burst through the door, face pale. “Mr. Voss—” “Out,” Xander said. One word. Marco obeyed like he’d been trained with a whip. The door clicked shut. Xander stood. Taller than I’d realized. Broader. He circled me once, predator assessing prey. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and produced a slim leather folder. I opened it, and a single sheet of paper slid onto the low table between us.

​ANG TAGUAN NI MARCO ​Hindi sila dumeretso sa AXL Towers. Sa halip, dinala sila ni Xander sa isang abandonadong shipyard sa Cavite. Doon, sinalubong sila ng isang lalaking may pilat na sa mukha at may bitbit na mabigat na baril—si Marco Santillan. ​"Xander! Aria!" sigaw ni Marco sabay yakap sa kanyang matalik na kaibigan. "Akala ko ay tuluyan na kayong naging French royalty at kinalimutan na ang dugong Pinoy."