Mark Manio Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 1 Lillianna Damion looked at the man sitting in front of her and felt her throat constrict. This here was AJ Fortes… Notoriously well known. He came into the diner where she worked and asked to see her… AJ Fortes was looking at her darkly. She felt her entire body tense. “Can I help you?” She asked not knowing why this man wanted to see her. How the hell did he even know her name? She was really unsure… This man was infamous… He was dangerous and everybody who had any sort of social media knew this.

I remark, not sure what the point was. "Maiden Notes is an anagram for Damian Stone." Damian remarks looking highly of himself. "So what? So you own the building. Big freaking deal. That still doesn't explain why you're here." Damian, however, looks over at me with a weird expression on his face, almost as if he finds it sexy that I continue to challenge him.

He rested up against the bars entryway, messed with three different men. Noah slipped a gold-tipped stogie out of a square metal case. He hadnt seen Noah yet. When he did, he would stop chuckling. All along, Noah had gone through the Broadcasters more than any of the fallen holy messengers. He was a specialist in manners Noah never could be: That was an endowment of those whod tossed in with Lucifer- - they had an ability for going through the shadows of the past. One gander at Noah would let this Victorian Noah know that his adversary was an Erroneous date.

Marco hasn't stepped out of the back room since our return. He’s perched cross-legged, atop the table encircled by laptops and a ring of golden handprints he made from his own blood. His scars have turned gold shining steadily without any flicker. He. Eats nor sleeps. He remains silent except when communicating in code. I come across him at 04:11 fixated on one line, on his final active screen: ROOT@CITY:~# whoami isla_valentina_kane He glances up as I come in.

“We’re not done talking about this. ”She tilted her chin, defiant. “Good. I’d hate to bore you.” He escorted her off the floor, his hand lingering on her waist, a silent claim. Marsh approached, his face grim. “Got a name on the scarred guy. Marco Santoro. Neutral fixer, plays both sides. And he’s meeting someone tonight. ”Kai’s gaze flicked to Gianna, suspicion flaring. “Stay close,” he said, his tone a command.She smiled, sharp and sweet. “Always, husband.”

Mark sighed, closing his eyes as if trying to remember. "They brought me to a desolate area and pointed a gun at me when their phone rang," he continued. "The man answered the phone, and the frown on his face indicated that he received unfavorable news. He ended the call, turned to his accomplice, and said..." Mark looked up at Nicholas, who was standing, and proceeded with his next words, "They could kill her, but they fucking couldn't kill her. You know what's worse? Romano shot a mafia lord instead, and now they're being chased by his men."

"You were just a kid." "I was a DeLuca," he snapped. "There's no such thing as 'just a kid' in this world." The silence between us stretched on for a few seconds, and then he turned to me and said, "You want the truth?" "Yes." "Marco Giordano is the most dangerous man I've ever met,” he said. “And if he knew who you were, you wouldn't make it to sundown." I swallowed nervously, carefully hiding the sudden panic crawling up my spine.

Marcus bluntly said. “Do you think that would be easy?” Mariko raised a brow. “Well, let’s see,” Mariko said before she got back inside the hall. *** From a dark part of the garden, behind a large acacia tree, there was a shadow of a man quietly watching them and listening to what they were talking about. His eyes flared up on the figure of a woman returning inside the hall. When he noticed Marcus following inside, the man came out from where he had been hiding earlier. The light coming from the moonlight illuminated the young man's appearance. He had a scar on the left side of his face as if he burned his face.

His voice was low and dangerous. The bald man, Marko, laughed. He didn’t stop looking at me. “No problem. I was just admiring the view. Victor, your place is looking better and better.” Victor’s smile was tight. “Eyes on the table, Marko.” Marko waved a hand, but his eyes stayed on me. “What? A man can’t appreciate a nice painting? She is a very nice painting.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “What is your name, sweet thing? You have a very nice shape.”

He wastched us both suspicously, then said, "Vince, I see you met my daughter." His name is Vince? "I'm Sofia. It was a pleasure to meet you." I indroduce myself to 'Vince'. "Vincenzo Moretti." He said in a deep voice. He had an accent. "Vincenzo is the Italian Don." My papa said to me. That explained his sexy accent. Did I just call his accent sexy? "Why are you having a meeting with the Italian Don?" I ask, confused. "I'll explain later, now come, your mama made breakfast." He answered.