Novel & Cerita Marcus Lopez Deadly Class

Marco didn’t pause. He landed a punch on Josh’s face, then another. And another. Blood sprayed from Josh’s nose, splattering Marco’s knuckles, but he didn’t stop. Delilah watched, breathless, as Marco slammed his fist again into the man who had haunted her nightmares. Josh, fueled by desperation, threw Marco aside and surged to his feet. But then—another gunshot rang out. Josh jerked. And dropped. Dead. Marco looked up, stunned, his chest heaving.

Marco asked with dilated pupils. “Oh, I am going to have a bomb on me the whole time. If the police don't show up on time, I will use it.” He announced. “What? No way!!” Elena and Marco screamed. Leo sighed and bumped his fist on his face. “Oh, I forgot that you two don’t believe that peace in death talk. Fine then, let’s hope the police show up or we become captives, and the Scorpione family are not known to be nice to their captives.” He replied.

I warned, the coldness returning to my voice. "Don't do this." "I'm the only one who loves you, Leandro!" Marco’s voice was high-pitched, hysterical. "I’m the only one who knows what you really are! You’re a King! You aren't a husband! You aren't a 'normal guy'! You’re a killer! And I’m going to prove it!" Marco raised his gun, aiming not at me, but at Delia. Time slowed down. I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. I saw the madness in his eyes—the twisted loyalty that had turned into a poison worse than anything the Commission could dream of.

she clipped That one word landed differently as Marco’s smile faded for a bit and Sofia saw it. “Ah! There it is, that look” she said softly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Marco’s gaze hardened. “Don’t I?” she replied. She turned the tablet toward him and the file displayed a series of names. They were all old, powerful and influential names with one name highlighted. Lorenzo De Luca. Another was crossed out. Marked deceased. But underneath it was a second identity, hidden and buried. Marco’s jaw tightened and was the first real crack she had been waiting for.

Mark became so comfortable and confident that he began rhythmically nodding his head to the club dj's Latin hip-hop mash-up of Daddy Yankee, De La Ghetto and Vico C. There was a sinister reason behind why 2Pac wasn’t fighting back. He was scanning Mark’s suit to see if he could find any integrity violations. The metal soldier went through his database of past prisoners he executed, and he searched for the cleanest and most efficient way to kill Mark.

He fired back, but the elite agent moved fast, dodging the bullets with ease. Meanwhile, Marcus and Lorenzo fought desperately, trying to hold their ground. But Leonardo’s strategy was flawless. One by one, Antonio’s men started falling. They were losing too many people, while Nuovo Ordine remained strong. Lorenzo, one of Antonio’s most trusted right-hand men, pushed forward, attempting to eliminate an enemy hiding behind the containers. But before he could pull the trigger— BANG! A bullet tore through his chest. Lorenzo’s eyes widened, his breath hitching. Blood trickled from his lips.

It was the sound of a man who had already envisioned the exact way he was going to end his kin. "History is written by the survivors," Marco countered. He looked toward the pillar where I was hidden. "And you, Zara... you were supposed to be the prize. But it turns out, you’re just the fuse. The Lucchesis don't want a bridge. They want a funeral." Marco raised a small, black remote detonator. "Luciano, the floor!" Vane screamed, lunging for Marco’s legs with the last of his strength. The world turned into fire and thunder.

Micardo was waiting for that precise reaction. I was too late. Micardo, agile despite his size, stopped his roll, turned, and fired from a sidearm concealed in his coat. Marcus went down. “Marcus!” I scrambled forward, dropping my own weapon for a second, hooking my hands under his collar and dragging his dead weight back toward the safety of the pillar. Blood immediately began to seep through the dark fabric of his trouser leg, staining the gravel. “I’m fine,” Marcus gritted out, his face pale with pain, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. “Just hurts like a bitch, Lorenzo.”

He was running, that bastard, and though every instinct in me wanted to chase him down and end him, I couldn't ignore the threat still present in the form of the Blue Moon pack wolf. I turned, preparing for another fight, when I heard the commotion from the far side of the battlefield. My eyes darted to Marcus, his Alpha, locked in a vicious struggle with Zane, my Alpha. My heart stuttered in my chest as Marcus's wolf crumpled to the ground, and with one final, deadly motion, Landon tore his throat out. Marcus's lifeless body shifted back into its human form, his face slack, eyes wide with shock even in death.

We passed by the large hall we all called Judgment Hall and I saw him - Marcus, my worst nightmare. He stood tall, menacing, his presence screaming cunningness and ruthlessness. Marcus is the underground’s most feared loan shark and mafia lord. And the very person who held my life in his bloodstained hands. “Do you know what happens to debtors like you?” I heard him sneered, tightening his grip around a man's throat. His voice dripped with venom. “They never live to tell their story. Well, maybe they do... in hell. To others like them.”