Mark Mina Novels & Stories

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.

Maximo scolded calmly. " Damn! " Marco gritted out. " I won't allow you to throw away your life this way, you are the lifeline of masses. If anything bad happens to you we all are... " " Basta! " Maximo suddenly yelled out in Italian. " Enough Marco! Do you have any idea how I have felt when Konstantin killed my best friend in my presence? Miserable! Frustrated! Helpless! I couldn't do anything and now I have the chance to pay him back in a way , do you think I will let it slip through my precious fingers? "

"That you were obsessed with Backstreet Boys in eighth grade. I know the street address of your first boyfriend, your niece's name, your roommate's phone number." He drew back suddenly. I shrank under his calculative gaze. I felt so…naked. "I have record of each breath you've ever taken, Bella." "Stalker." I stated. He snorted, before placing his hand on his chest, over his heart, and faked a painful moan. "Oh Bella," He mocked, "That hurt." So, Mariano Rivera was capable of sarcasm. I glared at him. "Do you…know everything?"

Maybe it was because I thought of the woman I was in my past life, the one who blindly threw herself into love. Blind love made women foolish and insecure. By the time I finished breakfast and returned to my room, I noticed I had over a dozen missed calls, most of them from Chris. I didn't bother to call back, deliberately ignoring them. Just as I was about to put my phone down and head to the library, I received an Instagram follow request. "Hi, gorgeous. Do you remember me? I'm Drake, the one who danced with you." I opened the message and saw his profile picture. He had brown curly hair and bright green eyes. He looked youthful and energetic, more like a sports star than a serious Alpha. I

Even I, who had not the slightest interest in a serious relationship, I felt a twinge of envy. “There has to be some downside. He looks like a goofball. Is he short, fat, bald? Mark's lips trembled, but this time he was silent. “Slightly tall, lean and muscular, with long, curly black hair. He is Indo-Canadian and has beautiful skin, beautiful eyes. Jenna, the man is wonderful. AND almost as handsome as Damien. Damien, the hot Australian. I looked at Mark and thought he probably would be

He had messy brown hair and an eager smile, like he couldn’t wait to talk to me. “Hey, fighter? That was incredible what you did back there. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Lissa like that,” he said, his eyes wide with admiration. I raised an eyebrow, a little wary. “Thanks, it was nothing, … uh, and you are?” “Oh, sorry! I’m Mark,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m one of the newer recruits. I’ve been watching your training sessions for a while now. You’re… really good.”

Bailey POV First. He came first. I grabbed the railing to keep from falling, my stopwatch dangling from my wrist, tears pouring down my face faster than I could wipe them. Mark Kingsley. Nineteen years old. National champion. The crowd was on their feet. The noise was deafening. A wall of sound crashing from every direction, shaking the air, shaking the ground, shaking something deep inside my chest that I thought had gone quiet years ago. Mark stood past the finish line, chest heaving, hands on his knees. He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, letting the moment settle over him.

Mark’s posture went rigid. “Who is that?” I whispered to him. “Adrian Cole,” Mark said, his voice tight. “My father’s favorite enemy. And mine.” Adrian Cole was tall and sleek, moving through the crowd with a serpent’s grace. His smile was thin and didn’t reach his eyes. A diamond pin glinted on his lapel. His gaze swept the room and landed squarely on Mark. He looked him up and down as if calculating his worth, then turned that same empty smile toward me.

I wanted to cover them, but Marcel wouldn’t allow it… I believed that it was his own way of showing the claim he was having over me. “So,” she murmured. “You and my son have been… active… it seems.” Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t look away. I refused to. “I don’t have the makeup to cover it up. I am embarrassed walking around with the marks, but Alpha Marcel seems to enjoy seeing them, and even if I wanted to, I have no way of trying to cover it.” She nodded, and I could see her chewing the inside of her mouth as she clearly debated on how to respond to what I just said.

“If you’ve got something to say, Markus, say it.” “I’m saying,” he said, lowering his voice like this was some big secret, “you’re in a prime position. Don’t let personal… attachments interfere with your game.” My jaw tightened. “You mean Tyler.” Markus didn’t confirm, but his silence was loud enough. “You don’t know anything about me and Tyler,” I said flatly. “I know you’re talented,” Markus said, still wearing that infuriating calm expression. “And I know the higher your profile gets, the more people will be watching. The more they’ll dig. And not everyone will be… understanding.”