Romans & histoires Marisol Garcia

Maria hesitated, then continued, “to ask for my hand in marriage.” “How utterly wonderful!” Donna exclaimed. “Tell me all about it.” “Jim is very successful,” Maria said. “He owns about a dozen car dealerships all over the area. If a Chicano buys a car — whether new or used — the probability is about two chances in three he bought it from a Jim Garçia dealership.” She paused and then continued, “But it could never work. He graduated from U.S.C., and has his MBA from Cal-Berkeley. I’m just an ignorant campesina,” she concluded.

Ariana’s POV “You’re not going.” Ethan doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. The words land flat and final, like a door being locked from the inside. I keep my eyes on the tablet in front of me. The dim safehouse lights reflect off the screen, washing everything in cold blue. A woman’s face stares back—early forties, sharp eyes, tension carved into the lines around her mouth. Marisol Vega. Former forensic accountant. Independent consultant. Disappeared eighteen months ago after submitting a sealed report to an internal ethics committee that never officially existed.

Over the phone, I heard Garcia curse in rapid Spanish. The door swung open before I knocked and I blinked at the smiling woman in front of me. I'd only met Marisol twice. And I could swear she hadn't aged a day despite having four kids. “Luca! Manny told me you were in our driveway. What a surprise!" She exclaimed pleasantly and drew me into a hug despite my protests, engulfing me in a rich flowery perfume. “Glad to see you, Marisol. Unfortunately it's not really a visit. I just needed to get something from Garcia, that's all." I stepped into the living room gingerly. There were toys scattered about and I was afraid of crushing one of them under my feet.

I speak, unconcerned, and calm about the situation. "Oh, sorry! I didn't know he got transferred and I am calling on behalf of Mr. Sherkey Holmes as his wife got into labor just now so he won't be able to attend the meeting at Damison Groups. I am so excited, THEY ARE HAVING A BABY." The lady screams loud enough to impair my eardrums. "Yay! Congratulations to them." I fake my excitement and write it down in my schedule diary. Before she could continue her rant, I keep the phone.

“Your father would have been too…” “His excellency, Alpha Aguilar Ivanov.” Marcel, one of the servants called. I nodded at him and he smiled before taking a step back, knowing to head back to the harem. Someone had to help Elena with the girls, especially since they were new within the pack and harem.

“I like this version of me.” Sofia grinned. “Good. Because by the time we’re done, nobody not him, not his mother, not anyone will ever forget who Gabriella Guerra really is.” A spark lit in Gabriella’s eyes clever, deliberate. She ended the call with Sofia and scrolled to Marisa Favino’s number. Taking a slow, dramatic breath, she pressed call. It rang three times. “Doña Marisa,” Gabriella said, her voice soft but warm. “It’s Gabriella. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

" A plan? Tell me about it " " Get me everything about this lady Iris. Her residence and every schedules " " I already have it " Marco replied eagerly " She reside in New York, living in western Hall rent which consist of six apartments. Her own apartment is on the upper floor. She is an elementary school teacher who only goes to school in the morning and return home in the afternoon. The rest of the day, she spent alone in her apartment but she Usually visit the grocery shop across western Hall rent every night. " No friends? "

A stunning young woman huffs, folding her arms across her chest, looking at the three of us most unpleasantly. “I’m...” I start to say, but she holds out her hand, making me close my mouth quickly. “I know who you are.” She narrows her eyes at the three of us. “I know who all of you are, Luna Ashleigh Blackwood, Beta Daniel Richmond, and Gamma Eric Stephans. You are all a long way from home.”

BRENDA WILSON. Giordana. "Hi, I'm Brenda Wilson." I turned in the direction of the voice. A tall, slim, model-like lady stood before me. She wore a dress that had a deep v-cut neckline exposing an ample amount of cleavage, the dress was very short and barely reached her mid-thighs. Her lips were painted blood red and her eyes were smokey. Well, she was definitely beautiful but something seemed off about her. Her smile was fake.

Damn, I'm hype! "So, since you are our future front line assets, can you introduce yourself" He points his finger at me and looks with a quizzical face. I stand up and introduce myself. "I'm Maria Isabela Monedero. I'm 24 years old," Single and ready to mingle. "I love to write romance tragedy genres and have joined many contests before, but I'm embarrassed to say this. I never actually won any of them, but I always get in second place or third place." As I introduce myself, I notice four guys entering the room.