Miguel O'hara Face Novels & Stories

Five minutes passed and I was already getting impatient before he finally brought the bastard to me, and as soon as they got to where I was, Miguel hit the back of his leg and sent him on his knees. "Please spare me... Please don't kill me," The bastard pleaded as he lay on the ground and rolled on it, begging for his life. "What's your name?" I asked as I stared down at him. "Oscar, Sir," He replied to me with fear resounding in his voice, and I slowly nodded. "Oscar..." I repeated in a whisper and finally removed my hands from my pockets. "Why is his face still intact?" I looked at Miguel and asked coldly.

I bite my lip, bracing myself for the worst. This might be even more embarrassing than the panty thing. Someone as intense and serious as Orlando probably doesn't take well to people drawing caricatures of him on his own set. I'm probably about to get fired in front of the entire crew. Over stupid doodles! Instead, he tilts his head back and laughs. I glance toward Ford. He looks just as startled and confused as I feel. "You have some talent, Maggie," Orlando says finally, still smiling. "You're an artist, then?"

"Michael Rannigan himself is here. Flynn, didn't you do one of his cases for Siegler's class?" Maggie smiled. "I did." She followed Ben's gaze and saw him. He was tall like she remembered. His expensively tousled salt and pepper waves framed his handsomely tanned face, perfectly complementing his soulful brown eyes and seemingly permanent five-o'clock shadow.

I search the crowd of people with my eyes for Harry and after a few minutes, I spot him. He's wearing a navy suit, his brown hair gelled back away from his face, a lollipop in his mouth and holding a placard with Miguel's name on it. "Harry" I yell, pasting a smile on my face and wave my hands and when he sees me, he jogs over to where I'm standing with a surprised smile. "You're Harry Maguire." "And you're definitely not Oscar, except your parents dig that sort of name for a girl?" I laugh and shake my head

Striding inside, I was met by four guards, two from each Cartel Leader. 'President Killian O'Hara, Leader Miguel Laney and Leader Juan Nexu extend the hand of friendship and ask that all weapons be left here.' One of them said and signalled to Cormack and Liam before removing my guns and knives and placing them in the large crystal bowl on the table next to the door, and walked into the main area of the club. 'Welcome, Killian O'Hara.' Miguel stood and shook my hand, followed by Juan. 'It is good to see you both again.'

- I shouted. How could a person with a Porsche just ram into the back of a Palio? I kept on knocking until finally the door opened. It was a split second. My mouth went dry and my legs trembled. Wasn't it possible that after all this time this idiot was standing right in front of me? No, no! I blinked my eyes trying not to believe it, but it was real. It was Miguel Henrique, right there in front of me. - Look at me... - He started to speak and then got scared when he saw me - Olivia, is that you?

But it wouldn’t last. “We have to get out of here,” he said, wincing. Elena looked down at the silver drive in her hand. “Do they know it’s still with us?” “They will soon.” Suddenly, the screen above them flickered, then turned to static. A face replaced it. Miguel Rojas. Elena gasped. He was older than she imagined. Clean-shaven, salt-and-pepper hair, eyes as cold as a vulture. But it wasn’t his appearance that chilled her.

“He’s an old lawyer. Used to handle their contracts. If anyone knows something, it’s him.” “Call him,” Leo said. Miguel dialled the number. The phone rang twice before a deep voice answered. “Hello?” Miguel spoke calmly. “Oscar? It’s Miguel.” There was silence for a moment. Then the man said, “Miguel? Haven’t heard from you in years. What do you need?” “I need to know where Mr. Rivera is,” Miguel said. “It’s urgent.” Oscar’s tone changed. “Why?” Miguel hesitated. “It’s personal.”

The man's face was visible because the mask was off. “So this is you,” Orella said to herself.

Without wasting a second, I turned on my heel, ready to break into a run when rough fingers wrapped around my arm, yanking me against a broad chest. A gasp escaped me. That was too fast. The person spun me around until I was facing him but before I could follow my instinct and kick him in the groin, I took in his face and my heart turned cold in my chest. Miguel Fangion. Cocky smile, fiery red eyes, and blood-stained jaw— My mouth parted in shock. Miguel was a hybrid? What in the world?