Novel & Cerita Marco X Jean

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.

XO ***

He wasn't buying his own story, not even a little. Hence the door slamming against the wall the second he got back to his own apartment. Marco nearly dropped his multi-slate off the couch, game forgotten mid-round. The mustard cushions clashed badly with his auburn hair, though the campus getup tan pants, white tee gave him a look younger than his age.

Marco is like those guys that can’t take a hint, those guys that believe you’ll say yes when you see money, those guys that have no respect for girls or women everywhere, and he’s one of those guys I’ve punched in the face a few times before. I turn around and offer him something that looks like a smile. “Marco! Good to see you.” But is it? He’s wearing a brown jacket on a white t-shirt which helps displays his arms covered in tattoos and a faded blue jean, there are many chains on his neck making me wonder how they don’t hurt his neck, but then again it would be a good thing if they do and possibly break his neck off because I won’t have to see his annoying face again. He takes out the ciga

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

​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."

The steady hum of the jet's engine filled the luxurious cabin. Seated in the opulent, cream-leather chair, Marco Donato's fingers moved swiftly across the keys of his laptop. His eyes—dark grey—were locked on the screen, his expression sharp and focused. In his mid-twenties, Marco's entire presence radiated dominance. His tall, muscular physique filled the seat with an effortless grace, his black hair styled just enough to maintain a hint of messiness, giving him a charming look.

I replied as I stepped into the dressing room. Not gonna lie, the first pair of pants I tried on, I am pretty sure I tasted the back of my balls. “Marco, can you bring me a pair of pants that isn’t going to ruin the chances of there being another heir please?” Marco chuckled as he brought in another pair of black dress pants and they were much better. I tried several suit jackets before settling on a steampunk, black brocade, jacket coat. I quickly changed back into my jeans and t-shirt and took the jacket and slacks to the counter to pay for them. “Thanks for your help, Marco. Have a good day,” I said while exiting the store.

The girl who sat beside her chipped in. I took another look at the jean I was wearing and touched the fabric. It was indeed what they said it was, Marcus had brought all the clothes in the closet and I paid little or no attention to any of them. I hurriedly took out my phone and searched for the price of the Jean. "What!!!”. I exclaimed in shock at the price , I dropped the phone In my hand from the shock. "Marcus was really good at throwing money around, got me contemplating if he had anything to do with the money he had.

He even had the courage to wink at me. "Excuse me?!" I screeched and moved away, disgusted. "Don't worry, babe. It has tinted windows," he smirked, like telling me that detail would miraculously change my mind. If he was trying to break the ice or just straightforwardly proposition me, I didn't have a clue. "Yeah, I don't see that ever happening. Sorry," I apologized without emotion. "As they say, never say never," he winked at me. And, as if right on cue, Marco walked into the room looking deliciously hot as he rocked a maroon shirt that hugged his torso and showed off the ink on his arms with an ash jean.