Marisol Garcia Novels & Stories

Maria couldn't hide her excitement, this atmosphere was one she had always wanted to experience, and nothing could beat the joy she felt right now. "He- Good day, I'm Maria, Jackson's PA," she introduced herself with a polite smile and an outstretched arm. Her handshake was ignored but she got something even more amazing in return. Natasha pulled her into a big, warm hug and Maria almost died of affection that instant. She had just hugged Natasha Shaw, the all-time favorite American actress, she'd never wash this sweet smell off her body. "I'm a big fan of your work," Maria continued and watched Natasha's face lit up, "for a long time now," she included and it earned her a squeal from Natash

"It may be to you. But, like I said, he may let you work. But it’s dangerous. Mariano’s grandmother, Donna Ginevra, was killed in a grocery store. Shot." “That’s terrible.” She smiled at me, and I stood up. "Thanks, Aria, we should definitely hang out sometime." A smile took over her face. "Definitely, Izzy." I ventured off to look for Mariano.

His eyes stayed on the woman crossing the lobby toward us, and something unreadable passed over his face. Not surprise. Recognition. That unsettled me more. “You know her,” I said. “I know of her.” “That is a very Luca answer.” “It is an accurate one.” Brian stepped closer to us, lowering his voice. “Marisol Vega. Thirty-two. Mother’s surname. Educated in Switzerland and London. Attorney for six years before moving into private asset management. No criminal record. No public connection to Don until recently.” “Convenient,” Luca said. Brian’s mouth tightened. “Very.”

she said, her voice gaining a touch of steel, “are you going to marry me?” The question hung heavy in the air, the fairy lights doing little to dissipate the sudden chill that snaked down my spine. Marry Anne? The woman who could whip up a meal that rivaled Gordon Ramsay’s finest creations, who could hold a conversation on anything from astrophysics to the mating habits of the Patagonian mara (we’d discovered that gem at a particularly boozy pub quiz)? The answer, on paper, was a resounding yes.

Alonzo’s limousine sped away into the night. “Are you okay?” Markos asked, his tone softer now. I nodded, though my hands were still shaking. The thought that something could have happened was appalling. “Thank you. I don’t know what he was planning, but it didn’t feel right.” Markos’s expression hardened. “Alonzo is a sex trafficker, Hazel. You need to be careful.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “How do you know?” He didn’t answer me. Instead, he opened the passenger door for me and gestured for me to enter. The tension between us was palpable, the silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

But i still picked the call anyways. "Hi, please are you by anyways, Miss Selene Woods?" - A feminine voice came from the other end, soft, polite and yet, straight to the point. "Yes, i am she!!. How may i be of help to you?" - I replied in a wary tone. "Great!!. My name is Anne Moreau, i'm a manager at Livelia entertainment and also a friend of the professor." - She introduced herself briefly, her tone filled with strict professionalism. " Oh..." - I gasped.

Even from across the table I can tell it’s beautiful. “It’s nothing.” Arabella waves her hand dismissively. “You mentioned once that you liked their scarves and I happened to be near the flagship store in Paris last month.” “I love it.” Marisol holds the scarf up to the light. “I absolutely love it.” I look down at the wine bottle sitting uselessly on the side table. The meal is four-course exercise in humiliation. Marisol spends the first course asking Arabella about her work. “So you’re taking over the Thayer wedding project now?” She cuts her fish into precise little pieces “That’s quite a responsibility.”

‎She ran into the darkness. ‎Away from the fire. ‎Away from the screams. ‎Away from everything she had ever known. ‎And she never looked back. ‎Behind her the mansion burned. ‎And with it, Isabella Marisol Reyes died. ‎What remained…was something else entirely. ‎🖤 ♣️ ‎Daylight came too quickly. ‎It spilled over the city in soft gold, touching rooftops, flooding streets, warming a world that had no right to feel warm. ‎Isabella walked through it like a ghost.

Jake Carson God! This woman is going to be the death of me. Never in my life have I expressed my anger by dominating a woman but Danika is making me. How have I let a woman get under my skin so much? I am not going to lie, I have worked for a lot of beautiful women as a bodyguard, they used to hit on me, constantly. But I never gave into such urges, I would always be professional. But Danika. Fuck! What am I doing?

I walked to the driver and smiled. “Caren Inc please” I slipped into the car and he drove off. Caren Inc was a large office building, it wasn’t so popular but I already felt a homy feeling around it. I stepped out of the car and walked into the building. I headed straight for the receptionist, a tall blonde woman with huge spectacles. Her tag said Mrs. Helen Mayer. “hey, I’m Camila Santiago and I applied for a job here” she glanced through some files and smiles.