Miguel O'hara Face Novels & Stories

I removed my hand from my face and looked up only to see the wolf getting strangled but I couldn't really see Nolan as he was above the wolf, strangling him. I looked at the wolf with horror oozing out of my eyes. I couldn't digest the fact that there was a wolf on top of me. As he pulled the wolf away from me and threw him away with the rope I looked up to match his eyes but my eyes widened even more when I saw the most unexpected person in front of me. Where is Nolan? What is the scarface doing here? Did he save me? But that voice...belonged to Nolan. He bent down in front of me and forward his hand near my face as he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand, making me gawk at him in pu

Then Miguel appeared. “There!” I almost screamed. Miguel stormed into view. His fists were clenched at his sides, his head ducked low. He looked furious. He moved quickly with his eyes locked on the ground, barely noticing anyone else. I saw the couple selling flowers whisper as he passed. They looked genuinely concerned. As he neared the edge of the frame, a male figure stepped in from the opposite side, hooded, and wearing a black jacket. The face wasn’t visible. Miguel looked up to say something, but the figure raised an arm and pressed something against Miguel’s face. It was a handkerchief.

“Well they never said we should you bring you back in one piece, you will see pretty soon things have changed from the last time we danced.” “He’s mine!” Obiora roared at the others before rushing for Miguel. Wishing to end things quickly, he made a grab at the shorter man to give him his signatory sack of potato shaking, to his surprise Miguel twisted free from his grasp and sent him flying with a back hand. Obiora cursed as he shook the stars from his eyes, in his short life, not many can escape from his grasp and fewer still could have sent him thumbing head over heels with a casual slap.

Curiosity got the best of me and like a little child I tried to peek over Narissa’s shoulder, to see who this person was. Green Blue eyes stare back at me, his golden-honey hair slicked back, and his chin covered in a faint that cut nicely along his jawline forming into a smirk as I assessed him. Oliver freaking Steward… Boy, did he clean up good. When I saw him last a few hours ago he was covered in dirt, blood, and a whole heap of other stuff that I barely recognized him. The eyes, his eyes confuse me, I couldn’t place why they look so familiar before, maybe it’s the mate bond playing tricks on me, but his eyes, I know I’ve seen them before.

He laughed out. Then, he pulled out his tab for where he kept it, “Let’s see her face once again, I wonder what it’d be when I start my revenge slowly,” He grin and scroll to Adrianna’s picture. She was smiling brightly in the photo that Miguel could feel his heart beating, he scoffed. “Forgive? I think I have formatted that in my dictionary!” He snapped. But his gaze fixed on her face “But, W-why does she look awfully familiar?”

The cameras clicked, taking pictures of Miguel and Nelly as she held him tight. "Mr Salvador. Is that your significant other?" A columnist inquired. Miguel went to Joanna as she concealed her face from the camera, her face consuming red from shame.

“Papa.” Miguel Rivera looked like a ghost summoned too late. His clothes hung loose on his frame, his face mapped with creases of regret, his hair thin and gray. But it was his eyes,the same dark, searching eyes Elena once carried as a child that made her body stiffen with rage. “Elena,” he whispered, voice thick, broken. “Mi hija… my daughter.” Her chest rose sharply. “Don’t. Don’t you dare call me that.” Harry’s jaw clenched. He kept his grip steady on Elena’s hand, though his other curled into a fist by his side. This was no coincidence, Miguel showing up here again tonight, after hovering on the edges of Harry’s life like a shadow. No coincidence at all.