Marcus Coloma 소설 & 이야기

I can’t skip it. By the time I make it to the training ground, everyone’s already gathered. The chatter dies down as Luna Serena steps forward, her presence commanding. She scans the crowd, her usual calm and authoritative expression firmly in place. “Alright, today’s going to be… fun,” she begins, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The word ‘fun’ sounds like a threat. “I’ve brought in someone special for you all—a combat master.” Excited whispers ripple through the group until she steps aside, revealing a small, unassuming woman with a name tag that reads "Coach Morgan." She’s shorter than anyone here—barely over five feet—with wiry arms and a steely glint in her eye.

A few chuckles can be heard from around the room, but Tony just remains still as he stares at his mate who is still in a cell. "There has to be." Colt grunts, not seeming happy about the situation, but I guess that's because he's a massive man hoe and the last I knew he was in no rush to find his mate. Don't get me wrong, a week ago I would have agreed with him, but now I just think he's an idiot for thinking that way, because there's no better feeling than meeting your mate.

“Your father would have been too…” “His excellency, Alpha Aguilar Ivanov.” Marcel, one of the servants called. I nodded at him and he smiled before taking a step back, knowing to head back to the harem. Someone had to help Elena with the girls, especially since they were new within the pack and harem.

Hunter said it like he wasn't quite sure. “Seven hundred and thirty days…” Hector repeated slowly. “For 730 days I had to let Colin be in charge even though I knew Colin wasn't close to ready.” Marcus Grayman was Hector King's under boss back in 2012. That year Marcus wanted out. He decided that he was done with the mob and wanted nothing to do with that life anymore.

He then looked at me up and down, "You are that savior?" "..." Saviour? What the heck was this man talking about? "I deeply apologized! I have been rude to you! I did not know you are the person who discovered the way to reach Nirvana! I am Marcus from the Capital!" "!!!" My brain went into shock. ...C-capital?!

hear someone say from the other end of the table. Almost every girl is looking, but it was her gaze that was the most frightening. If I remember correctly, Zariah told me her name was Mareli, from the Passion Pack. her hair is a fiery red - not orange - that commands the attention in the room by itself. Her expression is hostile "Nah, just Fate," Brynn replies carelessly. Is a fight about to start here? Mareli narrows her eyes. "I seriously think it's cheating that you got to see Malik before anyone else. Especially since you broke the rules...Do you really think Malik is going to want a Luna who doesn't do what she's told?"

Eight minutes, thirty seconds. Dominic doesn’t touch it. He just watches me. “Why marketing?” he asks. It’s the same question he asked in the elevator, but now there’s no elevator to escape to. “Because people lie,” I say before I can sanitize it. “But their data doesn’t. And I’m good at spotting the difference.” That earns me the second flicker. “Marcus.” The door opens like he was waiting for his name. Marcus is tall, Black, mid-30s, in a suit that costs more than my rent. His eyes are cop eyes. He’s been in the room for 0.2 seconds and already decided I’m a problem.

I asked, tilting my head slightly. "Yeah," Julian grinned, gesturing with his glass toward a private leather booth across the secondary lounge, where a tall, dangerously broad-shouldered man in a sharp grey suit was sitting, speaking quietly with two other men. "That's Marcus. He's a senior software architect downtown. Total dominant, absolute control freak, and the best thing that ever happened to me."

"The auxiliary nodes are locked, and Elena has already initialized the honeypot on Node Nine. I need to go back to my subterranean control console before the general assembly initializes the bidding ledger. Let me pass." Marcus didn't take a single step back. Instead, his towering six-foot frame shifted with a sudden, predatory momentum, his long pinstriped jacket discarded on the velvet sofa, leaving him in nothing but his custom charcoal vest and open white linen dress shirt. He closed the remaining inches between them, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the exit drapes, his massive shadow enveloping her entire perimeter. The sharp, elite scent of his sandalwood cologne and raw ma

“No. I will find him. I want him to look into my face and know the exact shape of the woman he created.” Her eyes burned like a forge. “And then I will destroy him.” São Paulo, Brazil - De Marco watched the European broadcasts with a drink in hand and a wicked smile curling at the edges of his mouth. The clips were vicious. Flames licking sky. Blood in gutters. His allies falling one by one. But he didn’t panic. He leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar. “They think they’re winning,” he said to the man beside him, a gaunt, quiet brute with cartel tattoos down his neck.