Marichat Sin Novels & Stories

she suggests and I shake my head, saying, "Nothing. I will rather listen to what you will like to say. " She nods with a small smile before moving her gaze from mine and my eyes move to her palms, one she scrapes against each other— a hint of tension. Why will she be tensed? Taking a breath, she sits upright and meets my gaze. "Sinclair. " I hum and I can't decide if her next selection of words stuns me or excites the fuck out of me. "This marriage can't take place. "

Marlie pronounced with self-assurance as she gazed at her new face of her sister in the mirror. Consumed with sorrow at the thought of her sister's eternal absence while bearing her face, she summoned the strength to steel her heart and fulfill her mission. Indeed! She was Charlie now without a question. She was prepared to embark upon her quest to avenge her sister's death. While scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror, Marlie declared, "Prepare yourself, Chad. You and your family shall endure the consequences of my sister's death! I promise you this with unwavering certainty!" Marlie declared as her eyes were filled with passion for revenge.

I spoke aloud before speeding off to our next location on the hit list. 🎲🎲♠️♥️♣️♦️♠️♥️♣️♦️🎲🎲 MARÍA'S POV- It has been Three weeks since I've been held captive. All I want to do is go home. I miss my brothers and they can't be doing so well with the loss of Lucien. I wonder if they are looking for me? Stupid question really I know they are. My brothers wouldn't leave me to deal with this alone nor would Marcel for that matter.

“Isn't that right... Charlotte?” From behind the closed door, Charlotte van Houten stepped out gracefully. Her white Chanel suit contrasted perfectly with her platinum blonde hair. “Well done, Victoria,” she smiled. “You're just as sharp as your mother.” “Where is she?” “Maria?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Oh darling, you still don't get it either?” “What?” “Maria Maharani died 25 years ago. Truly dead.” Charlotte stepped closer. “That email? A little game to lure you here.”

Aling Pitang said shyly. “Great, girl! He’s really handsome!” Marife whispered to Marivic. “Yes! My God! My panties fell off!” Marivic whispered to Marife. Aling Pitang elbowed Marivic and Marife. “Stop it!” “Am I ugly from afar, miss?” Jackson asked. He was looking in Marife’s direction. Marife quickly walked up to Jackson and held out her hand. “Miss Marife. I’m single and ready to mingle,” she said with a smile. She was embarrassed by Aling Pitang and Marivic when Jackson rejected her handshake.

There was comfort in familiar faces and a steady terror in knowing how much still needed to be done. On the road between markets, where hedgerows bent and gulls roared in the distance, we encountered a ragged band of people who stopped our horses with the efficient rudeness of those who had had to defend their own skirts many times over. Their leader introduced herself as Vorrin — a blunt woman with a scarred eyebrow and a soldier’s gait. She squinted at our travel worn faces and then at the hermitage’s ledger Mara carried, and decided to trust us enough to listen. “We thought you were collectors,” she said bluntly. “We thought you wanted to trade what people had for coin.”