Marcus Ornellas Novelas Novels & Stories

“Like I’m choosing for myself. Not just taking what’s given.” After the mall, they hit a cozy independent bookstore tucked between a coffee shop and a laundromat. The bell above the door jingled as they entered, and the scent of old paper and fresh ink wrapped around them. Ella gravitated immediately to the fiction section—mysteries with intricate plots and fantasies filled with magic and second chances. “Maybe reading will jog something,” she said hopefully, stacking three books in Marcus’s arms. One was about a woman rediscovering her past through dreams; another followed unlikely heroes on a road trip. Marcus added a sturdy notebook with thick, unlined pages. “For when the pieces come bac

she astonishingly asked but Zena was trying so hard to cover up her worry as she mutedly swings her head indicating no, nothing is wrong but Maria was persuasive enough for Zena to speak up, Just in the attempt to speak up, Zena almost loses her cool into crying and Maria consoles her passionately while observing if anyone is watching. She looked around, and notice the streets were quiet, and probably Mr.Angus and his wife might be at the square watching how they flame the man, the hunters had apprehended, so she politely assisted Zena to walk home. Shortly after they entered Zena's room, Zena was sitting on her bed and her face turned to the side of her window, Maria was holding a note she

she whispered. The old man realized what she meant and smiled. He slowly moved, wanting her not to feel disgusted or begin regretting their night of passion. Even though he had no idea who she was, he already liked her. He apologized and moved a bit. "I am Marcus Rashwell, by the way," he introduced himself, expecting her to do the same, but Nera wanted to shrink under the covers. She wanted the world to swallow her alive. Marcus observed that her body posture was that of someone very uncomfortable. He was a little disappointed, but forcing things or bringing up their wild night was only going to make her regret the night.

"If Marcus has that notebook now..." He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Because they both knew. Anyone who possessed that notebook... Would never let Tayla live long enough to read it. Across the city... Inside a luxurious penthouse... Marcus Bell poured himself a glass of whiskey. A man entered carrying the missing notebook. Marcus smiled for the first time that day. "You found it." The man nodded. Marcus slowly opened the first page. Then... His smile disappeared. Several pages had already been torn out.

"He lied about Anya, made her out to be an adulterous gold-digger who abandoned their marriage for money. He's destroying her reputation while she's barely able to get out of bed because of what he did to her. So I'm going to give him a choice—he can tell the truth, or I can tell it for him. And trust me, if I have to be the one to tell it, he's not going to like how that story ends." "Understood," Marcus said, and I could hear the slight edge of approval in his tone. Marcus had daughters. He didn't have much sympathy for men who abused women. "I'll get started immediately. I'll pull in the rest of the team, divide up the work, and get you that file as soon as humanly possible." "Thank you,

"So — did you find anything interesting?" "A few things." His expression turned thoughtful. "Elias wrote about Orathyn differently than the surviving records do. He never called them rulers." She leaned against a shelf. "Then what were they?" "Keepers." "Keepers of what?" "I don't know yet." He tapped the journal. "Several pages are missing. Not torn out — removed carefully. Almost like someone wanted the journal to survive, but not the whole truth in it." Rosalie's smile faded as she came back to the table. "You think Elias took them out himself?"

Author Pov The living room of the Calloway mansion was heavy with tension, the kind that clung to the air like smoke from a dying fire. Linda Calloway paced back and forth across the Persian rug, her silk robe swishing with every sharp turn. Her face was pale, eyes wide with a mix of fear and fury. Cara sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, her legs bouncing nervously, fingers twisting the hem of her designer blouse. The news had hit them like a thunderbolt. Marcus had been arrested, locked away for crimes he hadn't committed. It all meant that the company, their entire world of luxury, power, and status was at risk of crumbling.

I was already too enthusiastic about making them the new ingredients of my topic book. "Grisella, can I ask you something?" Maria said she changed her position to sit "You're very enthusiastic about writing novels about them, it's because you have ambitions for yourself, right? You want to be famous again and make Delon, who is already engaged to your enemy, regret it? You want to make them jealous of you. Maria raised an eyebrow.

Celine sat close by enjoying the drama in front of her. “Your dearest husband felt threatened with my sudden presence in H city since I’m your ex. He was so consumed with jealousy which is why he ruined my company, drained it till it was under, then made sure I left country A without a penny!!” Nuella was surprised by what Marcos told her, she looked at Oliver and all he did was stare at her. With the look on his face it means what Marcos just said wasn’t a lie. Was jealousy the reason why he had done that? She didn’t think Oliver would go to such an extent, it is not as if Marcos approached her wrongly, except there is another reason.