Marcus Coloma Novels & Stories

His voice was low, smoky, like the whiskey he drank. Elena turned, crossing her legs so the hem of her dress rode up her smooth thigh. “The longest. You?” “Same. Business trips are all the same until they aren’t.” He slid into the stool beside her, close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something darker, masculine. “I’m Marcus.” “Elena.” She let her fingers brush his when she accepted the fresh glass of wine the bartender placed before her. The touch sent a spark straight between her legs.

"His family runs half of Europe's pharmaceutical trade. Polite as hell off the field. Completely ruthless on it." "Twenty two?" "Audric Sterling. Old English money, He's been in three separate disciplinary hearings this year and walked out of all of them without a single mark on his record." "And number four?" A pause. "Zian Castillo," Marcus says. "Half Spanish, half Korean." Another pause, heavier this time. "Don't get on his bad side." "Good to know." "I'm serious." The warning itself is off character for someone like Marcus who clearly seems to hate me.

Cosimo: “You are delaying things to your own benefit, and with each passing day, with each passing minute, they are growing stronger. It is not something that we want, Cosimo.” My elder, Jasperrando del Mariucci said, glaring at me. I had to force myself to calm down, reminding myself that he was not only my elder, but that he was in charge of most of the funding that came to us. “What is it that is forcing you to keep that woman alive? Huh? Why are you so scared of killing her like you’ve done for both her mother and father?”

He took over his father, Nicofero Rivera at the age of eighteen, and now, by twenty four, has expanded the family's territory to half of America. He is considered one of the most capable 'Dons' in Rivera history, rivaled only by Salvatore Rivera of the 1960s. His grandfather. I switched the laptop off when I heard Mariano's steps come toward the room. I knew what I wished to know anyway. He opened the door softly, expecting me to be asleep, but smiled as he took in my state. "Find anything of consequence?" He asked as walked to his closet. I shook my head. "Nope. I didn't even Google. I was just checking my emails." I lied.

“Is that why Cameron chose you to play against me then? Because he thinks I'm too dangerous? Otherwise, I would expect that my potential partner is the one to test my skills.” Marcos chuckles, rising to his feet and making his way toward the other side of the office where a fully stocked mini bar stands. He glances up at the array of beverages, considering his options before he turns to me to ask, “Would you like a drink, darling?” I shake my head immediately but Marcos ignores the action, turning back to grab a bottle. “You seem like a red wine kinda lass. So we'll have that.” I sigh, shooting him a glare I'm certain he can feel against the back of his head.

Even his command has lifted a little, and I see her slowly coming back. “Yes, mate,” he shoves down his shirt collar on the left side of his shoulder, where he bares Grace’s mark, completing their bond. “Huh, wasn’t expecting that,” Zander mumbled. “Look, sorry for coming up all like this, but we would really appreciate the help. Zander saw a matching mark that you have that is similar to the rogues. We need help figuring this out if you know anything,” I explain, trying to defuse the tension. The human looks like he’s one more stupid comment away from punching Zander in the face.

Marcus Ruvia just continued his exit from the abandoned building as if he didn't hear anything. Marcus Ruvia was known for being a ruthless, dominant, and powerful young boss of the mafia in the human world. He is very tall and muscular. His delicate features and obsidian eyes made him look mysterious and aloof. His aura imposed that no one should try to mess up with him or else they had their own death wishes.

The Marcus and the two fellow were unarmed but the young knew for sure that there were guards watching them there and with a snap of their fingers, a bullet might struck his head or his heart that would make him dead then "Who are you?" Marcus asked, drunkenly speaking with his shoulders lumbering. Joram stood still spooked by presence of a young man they hadn't notice would come to them. Jun just watched with his hands ready for the steel tucked in his belt "I am Rod, one of the hunters of Mountains. I'm here to surrender myself for the service of the Madrigals," he gazed at them wandering his eyes from Marcus then to Joram then to Jun as if to decide which of the three was the Madrigal. He

Like a slow leak from a pipe that someone had been careful to keep just below the alarm level. I was still staring at the operations numbers when my office door opened. "Miss Isabella," said a voice. "Do you have a minute?" I looked up. It was a man I did not recognize at first. Then I placed him. Marcus Cole. The junior auditor. Mara's hire, four months old. "I have thirty seconds," I said. "Make it count." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He was young. Nervous. He kept his hands at his sides but his fingers were not still.

LIAM Dinner was chaotic. Ella narrated the entire finger-painting session in exhaustive detail. Leo demonstrated his monster impression repeatedly. Alexandra tried to eat while mediating disputes about who got the last slice. I watched them. My family. My life. My phone buzzed. Marcus. "Marcos found the owner," he said. "It's not who we thought." "Who?" "Dante Marchetti. Carlo's son. He was fifteen when his father was arrested. Disappeared. We assumed he was in hiding with relatives. Turns out he's been in Switzerland, building quietly, waiting."