Markus X Simon Mga Nobela at Kwento

He ruffled my hair and exited the room, leaving the door completely open. Oh God, I hate when he does that. So annoying! Marco's pov I went to the warehouse, I found Malik and Fred talking with our men in New York, counting the number of Simon's bodyguards, and the possible ways that he could run from. Simon is a cosmetic doctor, a very straight person in his relationships, No one could think he is into this. " Marco, we have a problem." Chris came worried Of course we have. " What?" " They attacked our men in the last mission in the port. Luke went to check the place with some other men."

I added before the guards disappeared into the woods. “Can’t wait to go see your mate, eh?” Marcus asked amusedly. “I can see it in your impatience.” I looked at him quizzically and shook my head. Then realizing there wasn’t any need for pretense, I smiled and decided to turn the tables. “Simone eh?” I smirked sideways at him. “Ohhhhh yes!” He replied without any preamble. “I can’t wait to see my mate. I really do miss her.” “Mine too,” I said calmly and shouted, “Seen anything?”

Elder Marcus exposed his secret, knowing that Simon was someone who wouldn't go about telling everyone about his impotency. "I still have my long cock but the strength of my cell can't fertile an ovary" Elder Marcus laughed about it because he was already used to it. "Your secret is safe with me, I won't tell anyone about this" "You shouldn't because you might lose your head..." Simon's eyes opened wide as Elder Marcus cackles, "You shouldn't be afraid of me, I'm old and can't be able to even kill you and besides you look more like a son to me so don't come in here acting all scared and tensed"

"What do you want from Simeon?" Marcus leaned back in his chair. "We’re the reason he’s rich today," he said nonchalantly. "And he hasn’t fulfilled the deal we had." I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the shabby bar he claimed to own. "How could someone like you make someone like Simeon rich?" Marcus laughed again. "We don’t show off," he said cryptically. "And who are ‘we’?" I asked, locking my eyes on him. Before he could answer, a young woman walked in. I couldn’t help but notice her exaggerated curves, the kind that screamed BBL special. She was beautiful, but the kind of beauty that made you uneasy.

Or just common sense around two people armed with mutual suspicion and caffeine. Simmons tips his chin toward the far side of the yard. Marcus stands with two of the younger ones, very deliberately facing away. The effort is almost charming. Almost. A man performing indifference with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb. “He’s not stopping you,” Simmons says. Maya looks back at him. “I noticed.” “He doesn’t let people study us.” “I noticed that too.” “He’s letting you.” Maya takes another sip of coffee and remembers too late that it is dead. Bitter. Cold. Punitive.

"I titled it 'Echoes in the Night.'" Markus turned to me, a look of surprise on his face. And then, his eyes narrowed as he took in my features. "Ah, you're the artist," he said, his voice smooth. "I've heard a lot about you." I smiled, my eyes locked on Markus's. "And I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Montenegro," I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. Markus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my boldness. "Please, call me Markus," he said, his voice low.

"I titled it 'Echoes in the Night.'" Markus turned to me, a look of surprise on his face. And then, his eyes narrowed as he took in my features. "Ah, you're the artist," he said, his voice smooth. "I've heard a lot about you." I smiled, my eyes locked on Markus's. "And I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Montenegro," I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. Markus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my boldness. "Please, call me Markus," he said, his voice low.

Lucian replied. The Alpha extended his hand toward me with a charming smile. "Drake Bennett. Fiora, may I have the honor of a dance?" "Of course." I stood up and placed my hand in his. Just as we were about to step onto the dance floor, Chris called out from behind me, "Fiora!" I ignored him and continued walking with Drake. "Who was that man calling your name just now? Your mate?" Drake asked as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

The silver of his hair glimmered in the flickering light, as his glasses reflected the hulking figure that sat across from him. Simon. Much different in his actual form than the slimy and greasy looking weasel he had been pretending to be for this past year. The real Simon was massive. A hulking and deadly looking figure, with dark hair cut short, sharp blue eyes, and an animalist face. A face that normally held a stoic expression much like my own, but today, it was filled with tight creases of worry that spread across his forehead and drew his face down ever so slightly. It may not have been noticeable for anyone else, but for someone versed in the ways of concealing emotions, it was easy t

"We're going to find Marcus. We're going to stop him. And then we're going to help you." "Why?" "Because that's what family does. Even broken family." Simone started crying. Real tears. The kind that came from somewhere deep. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." "I know." Julian stood up. "Now tell us everything you know about Marcus. Every detail. Every word. Every place he mentioned." Simone talked for two hours. She told us about the hotel where Marcus was staying. The phone number he used. The car he drove. The way he walked — a limp in his left leg, like an old injury.