Mark Manio Novels & Stories

“How was it possible for my father to be working with a man like him? If you claim that he is as dark as…?” “Your father worked with those who we benefited from. No matter what the reason was, the price was, who the person was, and what they did. Bartolomeo has functioned himself to shut his humanity off a long time ago.” Mario said, answering her. She shook her head, clearly wanting to refuse believing what her grandfather was telling her. And I had to admit, even I was both confused and baffled by what we were learning when it came to what Cosimo was doing, and I knew the darkness that my father was often willing to have.

"This is crazy. I don't even know you." "Your name is Ava." He said it softly, reverently. "Ava Marie Chen. You were born on June twenty-first, eighteen years ago. You have a birthmark on your right hip shaped like a crescent moon. When you were seven, you broke your arm falling out of a tree, and you cried more because you couldn't climb anymore than because it hurt." Tears were streaming down my face now, and I didn't even know why. "Stop. Please stop."

Maybe the previous girl is not a good kisser, huh. “By the way, I am Jomuel Lourd Trinidad, ‘Jolo’ for short.” He looked cute, his face has soft features and the way he dress is not that manly but not bad either. I can guess that his body is not that muscular but not too skinny, as well. Just the right built. I smiled at him and nodded. They started introducing themselves after Jolo. “Mark Olive Mallari, just call me ‘Marko’.” Hmm, this Marko looks too professional. He is still wearing a slightly crampled suit without the coat like he just clocked out of work. He looked like a serious type, a husband material aura.

No different from Alfred, she answered every question Conal posed very competently. The last man is probably a private person. He timidly introduced himself as Phelan Mark. His hair is light brown, and his face is unremarkable. Although he was slow to answer, he was meticulous. Although it took time, it was a point that Conal quite liked. Because people like Phelan Mark are conscientious and responsible every time they work, the work is also less prone to errors.

However, everything is void and empty. He caught the sound of footsteps coming his way, followed by a man’s voice he recognized as one of his trackers. “Master, we’ve secure all the details, the lists of profiles, and all personnel was called into the estate, except for one.” Nikolai gave him his full attention. The wind is getting harsher by the minute, and it won’t be long before the blizzard comes. “Who?” “Donato Markov.” “Fuck!” He cursed aloud, his hand curling into a fist, nails digging at the heel of his palm.

His hands are bare despite the cold; he looks like someone who has never carried his own groceries. "Damian Caldara," he says. Not a question. A statement. He knows my name the way you know the name of a restaurant you have been meaning to try. I keep walking. "I do not know you." "You do not. But I know of you." He matches my pace easily, his longer legs eating up the sidewalk. "The man who took down Vinnie. The one who runs shipments through Devon's network. Mark's protégé." The list of my accomplishments sounds different coming from a stranger's mouth. Larger and more dangerous.

My eyes scanned the room once more, ignoring the bodies swaying on the poles. I was waiting. Minutes passed. Maybe more. Time blurred in here. Then finally the man I’d come for stepped out of the shadows. Tall and Dressed in a fitted black suit, no tie, the kind of man who blended in. He wasn’t an Alpha. Not a wolf either but power hung around him. His name was Marco. A broker. One who dealt in information, in blood, in secrets that made and broke families. I hadn’t seen him in months but he was the reason I’d dragged myself back here today.

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.

she finished and those amber eyes went to the place I was to also remain immobile before my incredulous gaze. “What did you say your name was?” I asked a few decibels above my regular voice. “Oh, Mark! So good you came, you were the only one missing.” I heard the voice of Kristopolis somewhere in the room, but my eyes were still locked with the woman’s who was a few meters from me, noting how pale she went when she heard my name. “Mark?” she said in a whisper. “Yes... Marcus Sanders.” confirmed Paul looking at her with worry eyes “he is the owner of the company and promoter of the campaign that you will develop… Are you okay?”

Just as the dessert was about to be serve, Marco received an urgent call from the colly room. " Excuse me please " He requested to everyone as he took his leave to answer the call. He stayed longer than necessary and when he returns, the smile on his face failed to deceive the Italian Mafia Boss who knows him so much. Marco sat down carefully but he managed to send Maximo a signal. Just by the strained smile Maximo knows the call is about konstantin. All the Mafia men around the table drop their cutleries at once and sat still , waiting for their boss to give order.