Marquess Novels & Stories

As she brought it even closer, she noticed tiny markings on it, too tiny for recognition which made her squint in an effort to make meaning of them, but she had hardly seen anything when a familiar voice startled her, making her close her palms against the glass item instinctively. " That's an e-con, " the voice said, compelling Alice to look up at who it was, she had been so immersed in her thoughts and in trying to figure out what the item was that she didn't hear David come in, he stood so close to the wall his back would have practically touched it if not for the leg he had pressed against it, he held a wineglass in his hand, and for some reason she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable

Violet eyes focus on me, curiosity lightening his orbs. His lips move, words coming but not a sound registers. "Who is the Marquess Sawyer?" I blink out of my trance, only now realising he was speaking "Pardon?" "The Marquess The Grand Duke arranged you to meet. Who is he?" He questions me "Oh. He is an associate of my father's, he doesn't know I am aware that he is trying to arrange our alliance" I let out a sigh, dropping my gaze to my palms in my lap.

he added “I’ll wear a yellow next time for you, Marques” she curtsy and looked at her surroundings. Everyone was staring. Of course the place was not used to seeing the Marques. It was a boutique not for Nobles but for the poor and she was one of the five rich the store serves. She was not a noble for she was only a baron and not boastful rather she blended well in the poor. “Really! I’ll be delighted. Are you done with the fitting?” he ask

The Marquess and his wife bow and curtsey to us, and I have to ask, “I’ve never met a Marquess before. Is that a pack title or one you acquired in the human world?” The moment I ask it, I sense a shift in the interchange. The man draws himself up a little straighter, and his mate’s smile becomes tight. “I’m sorry, have I committed a faux pas?” I ask, and the woman, a short, beige-completed sprite, shakes her bobbed curls certainly. Because who is going to tell a queen she’s done something wrong? “It’s a title connected to my family’s land,” Dubois informs me, his boiled-chicken face still bearing the faintest traces of contempt

And don’t be draggin yer feet hurry along. As I reached the hallway connecting to the hall I could already hear my father and mother talking to the marquess. I take in a deep breath and put a smile on my face and straighten my posture. The butler announces my presence, I walk to stand next to my mother and give a small curtsy to the marquess. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance sir.” The marquess studies my features and his eyes roam to my bosom far too long that I am comfortable with. Desire in his eyes clearly in his eyes. The marquess swirls his scotch in his han

The breakfast ended with Marcos' continuously teasing him, he told his son that he was a chic boy in the past who girls line up for, he never courted someone except from his mother, it ended after as Marcos' fell into deep emotions regarding Amelia Warner. Later in the morning, Marcus prepared to go to Esper, he can't definitely miss to go to the company since it has been days without seeing Beatrice, he feels so lonely. Using his limited edition Bugatti Veyron, he accelerated fast to the company, walk ran the way to his office and found Drake Hart in his table. Drake was his proxy when he's out and busy with other companies, Drake stood up and bowed courteously as soon as he walked towards

says one of the marquises. "He must be still around here. It does not seem like he followed the carriage," Viishaun replied. His eyes caught the peculiar guy, and he gestured his eyes. The marquises are highly skilled enough to read their commander's command. "Drive him into a corner. Make sure that no one notices it."

What made today even busier than usual was Duke Mountravven's presence among them. Duke Mountravven managed to occupy the highest position in the gentleman's club, replacing Marquees Elmand, a young Marquees who was handsome and successful in his warhorse business, who was also a big-time playboy. Rumor had it, there was no woman in the capital that he had not slept with except Fuschia Mountravven – Duke Mountravven's only daughter.

"Lord Santi, you're wearing an Alexander Amosu Vanquish II Bespoke Italian Suit worth a hundred and one thousand dollars. I heard it had to be delivered in an armored car because of the gold buttons. Your watch is a Louis Moinet Meteoris worth 4.6 million dollars. Your shoes are also worth thousands. Even your sunglasses are Prada. You're wearing millions of dollars. Now you tell us not to think about your title and money?" The Marquess looked at Ajax. "Look who's talking. You might not have a title, but I know you come from a rich family too, Ajax Bosque." "At least I don't walk around wearing thousands of dollars' worth of clothes." The

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"The human." Maya's stomach dropped. "I'm not—" "You are." Wilder cut her off flat. "Marked." He said it like a fact. Like weather. Like something he already owned and didn't need her to confirm. Marlowe laughed. One short, sharp sound with no humor in it. "Marked by you," he said. "Not kept by you. Yet." Then he turned the full weight of his attention on Maya, and his voice changed. Smoother. Almost kind. That was somehow worse.