Marion Robert Morrison Novels & Stories

Wade Roberto said, his voice laced with authority, he was even surprised at the authority by which he spoke to his mom. Daisy Hunter stood by his side and held hands in a bid to pacify his anger. Standing up abruptly, Mrs Angela said," Tracy go inside and wait for me at once." "Okay, ma." Tracy Molly said as she ran off into the room. "Wade, if you choose to marry Daisy or whatever you call her, just know that the marriage wouldn't ho…" Mrs Angela was interrupted immediately by the voice of Mr Gilbert Roberto. "No!" "No!" "No!" His voice barely above whispers as he steps down the stairs, the stairs creaking under his weight.

Her Marina. THE END

It must belong to his late wife. I breathed out feeling relief after hearing Mr Morris's soft voice, "Always prepared," His smiling face came into view as he stepped forward. He was gripping the door open for me. "Mr Morris," I sighed again, smiling at him. He was a kind man. His wife died four years ago with Cancer and his only son, Cane, was married and staying in New York. He had asked Mr Morris to come to New York and stayed with him many times. But Mr Morris was in love with his job and with the memories of his late wife.

Edwiin Morrison lowered his head and looked at her stunned look, her thin lips opened and closed slightly, "Do you have to stare at me like this every time?" This slightly cool voice made Suzanne Reid return to his senses. There was a slight blush on her fair cheeks, she reached out her hand to pull the Yuba of his mobile phone over, and whispered, "I just have a sprained foot, I can still wash my hair by myself." Edwiin Morrison narrowed his eyes, his eyes were a little terrifying, "Bow your head. I don't want to wait to hear the screams and come in and see the embarrassed appearance of you falling to the ground."

The McKinnons had invited a few investors and rich people over for a typical rich people small gathering. I could tell Mr. McKinnon was upset at the fact that I wasn’t in the kitchen like the other women of the house, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let some old piece of shit tell me how I am supposed to behave. I looked around for Joseph, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. I miss my home, Judith, and Mom. “Mary! I want you to meet Fiona. She is one of our company’s finest workers,” Joshua said as he chuckled a little with his hand on her back.

She asked her confusedly as her frown deepened. The woman gazed at her confusedly. You don't know? She asked wonder written on her face. Not wanting to waste more time, I stood up and walked closer to them. "Thank you madam for your help" we would take our Leave now" I said and she frowned. "She has amnesia and thus, can not remember anything except her name" I said wanting to clear her curiosity. Oh! She exclaimed and stared at Melissa pitifully. "My poor child" she exclaimed pulling her to a hug as tears trickled down her cheek.

“What will you do?” “I’ll have to push forward with no phone for now. It’s not in my budget. I have a lot of bills to pay, not to mention my sister’s bills as well.” “Can’t she work?” “It’s…complicated.” She wouldn’t understand even if I told her. Violet had fallen victim to drug and substance abuse because of the rollercoaster that had been our lives. She couldn’t take it anymore. She would rather snort the white powder than face her problems. It was worse for her because she was about to be married the week before everything happened to her boyfriend of five years.

— Luciana knew that they were talking about the little girl. —Well, that makes me very happy, I think you already know most of them, so before starting the meeting, I'm going to introduce you to my beautiful daughter, the person in charge of the company, Luciana Brown, honey, this is Santiago O 'Brien — Santiago smiled as he finally knew who the beautiful woman was and extended his hand.

Marion. Fuck.

Theon’s eyes widened in shock, mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came. Slowly, I turned to face her. Marissa. Or Tatiana, as she’d once been called. Her true name, the name that she was born with. I refused to want to see her as a Marissa, the weak woman that she has become. But then again, names were irrelevant now. She was a different woman now, a different person. She stood before me, bathed in the eerie glow of the setting sun filtering through the shattered windows, her hair cascading around her face, eyes glinting with dark amusement. My breath caught at her beauty, as perfect as the day I’d lost her, no, as perfect as the day she betrayed me. As perfect as I've seen her, and