Mario Lopez Ethnicity Novels & Stories

On the opposite, a few men and women walked up while shouting arrogantly, “Get out of the way!” Lydia originally wanted to chastise them, but when she saw the other party's appearance, she quickly pulled Philip aside. Philip frowned, feeling very upset. He glanced at the foreign men and women walking over. Lydia seemed to know what Philip was going to do, so she hurriedly nudged at him and said, “Don’t cause trouble. You can’t beat him. His name is Javi Lopez. He’s the eldest young master of the top-ranking Lopez boxing family. He’s also the default heir and a high-ranking martial artist.”

I refuse to believe that he’s not taking steroids or something either that or his father is Zeus. “Nice to meet you name’s Mario.” He replies with a small smile, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth. And his voice wow it could compete with the sound of fucking thunder for God’s sake, on the other hand maybe he is the son of Zeus. His long black hair certainly adds to the look. The more I look at him the more I understand why Janet is so into him. “So how long have you worked here?” I ask as I buckle my seat belt I need to know all his secrets, I’m willing to be his student.

He clasped my hand with his large, warm one, and I couldn't help the tingles starting to form in my stomach "Lala," he noted. "Miguel Dela Fuente. You can call me Miguel," he proudly added, giving me a handshake. I could tell he's Hispanic. The way he spoke and pronounced his name with that accent sounded Latino to me. His facial features and tanned skin looked incredibly attractive. At first sight, I could absolutely tell by his appearance that he wasn't white. "Where 'you from? If it's not weird to know," I asked and fidgeted my fingers.

“I’m not, though, maybe?” My mother had pure Filipino ancestry. And she’d told me that my dad’s people came from Italy a long time ago and stayed here in the Philippines for good. Rocky Ace grinned. “Nobody’s perfect.” He slung on a jacket and took a final look around. “You’ve got my number. Call if you need anything.” “Will do.” Rocky Ace left, and I tried to regroup my thoughts. Then I headed toward the younger De Luna, the one who was far less complicated to talk to. Even if the conversations were mostly about prehistoric reptiles.

Linda was not happy after hearing my mom’s name, so she must’ve known something was going on between them. “I’m sorry. It was not my intention to come up here and ruin your marriage.” I apologized. “No, of course not.” Mario took a breath. “Are you sure you’re my son?” “Positive, and I’ll do a DNA test if I have to.” Victor laughed. “Of course you have to.” He stated. “You can’t just come in here and make these accusations—“ “Victor, please!” Mario shut him up. The man in front of me did not look like a cartel boss or a monster. The man in front of me looked like a fragile man who didn’t know what to do. He was a good actor.

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

My eyes are also adjusting to the shadows and I can make out more of Moon’s features. No pictures do him justice. He looks like a dark version of an Italian mob boss. I can’t help but remember the bits and pieces that came through about him while I was an officer. He’s of mixed heritage—African American and Mexican National. Seeing him up close and personal makes me wonder more about his heritage because he’s fucking gorgeous.

My eyes are also adjusting to the shadows and I can make out more of Moon's features. No pictures do him justice. He looks like a dark version of an Italian mob boss. I can't help but remember the bits and pieces that came through about him while I was an officer. He's of mixed heritage-African American and Mexican National. Seeing him up close and personal makes me wonder more about his heritage because he's fucking gorgeous.

I hope. “Adrianna!” I recognize Mario’s voice as he walks into the suite. He pulls me into his arms and I am assailed by the scent of a mix of made cologne and stored female perfume. Mario—my fiancé—is the quintessential, cliché fuck boy. Fast cars, easy money, fast women. He is the second son of Luca Lombardi, the patriarch of the Lombardi family. He is spoiled and willful, forcing his parents to fix whatever mistakes he makes with money. So far, they have covered up a bullying scandal, a hotel scandal, and several assault and sexual harassment cases. He is handsome in a boyish way and he has long, thin limbs. His blue eyes are usually unfocused and look washed out. His mother says it's str

MARIA'S POV I'd say Old Grandpa was the only one who was genuinely happy to see me. The rest of the people at the party had just been there as a formality. I can't blame them, I would be mad too if I had received an invitation out of the blue. But maybe I shouldn't complain. This party was for me after all, was it not? Maria Rodriguez. My name. The name that sent shivers down men's spine in my world.