Miraculous Marinette And Adrien Novels & Stories

A perfect breakfast from a perfect husband. Just then, the doorbell rang. One of Dante's men, Marco, stood on the doorstep, holding a plain brown paper bag. "Boss, the thing you asked for." Marco handed it over, his eyes darting around nervously. But I saw it—a small velvet box peeking out. Probably something for his little tryst. After Marco left, Dante returned to the table and continued eating as if nothing had happened. I stirred my coffee, my voice casual. "Dante, can I ask you something?"

Laurent. It was Adrien.

“That still was not an answer.” “Do not start.” Adrian’s smile faded. He reached up and gently adjusted a loose curl near my shoulder, the gesture familiar and harmless. Across the courtyard, Modric’s wolf pushed against the bond again. Adrian noticed my brief distraction and followed my gaze. Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Marriage suits you, Mary, even if your husband doesn’t deserve you.”

Obviously the conversation would have to come up at some point but for the moment it was the last thing I had to worry about. "And that is about it to say about her." I concluded "Already?" Margot exclaimed almost as if I hadn't been talking enough about Adrianna For some unknown reason she had a lot of interest with Adrianna. Not in a weird psychotic way obviously but in an admiring way. "She is a little evil but I love her with all my heart and soul." "It is quite rare to witness unconditional love especially if it is described through words but you did a great job." She smiled after finishing her sentence

Or even get enough of the scent. Who does this scent belong to? Looking down, in front of the tree, sat a lady in shattered dress and she looked unkempt and malnourished and she seemed to be sleeping. How come she is yet to notice us? Tenor stirred up and seemed suddenly interested in her. Who is she? "Mate!" He said and I stepped back a bit in abrupt shock. Mate? How could I have a mate? And that too so soon? "Please, don't give me that. Selene promised us a new mate. See, she look lean. Take her inside." He said but I could not move from the place.

I was about to give the beast within me free rein but before I could do that,I heard arguments at the gate leading to the dungeons. I decided to pay it no mind because no intruder could come into my house. I was the most powerful Don for a reason. I continued on my mission of removing his fingers and listening to his cry of pain. It felt therapeutic. I heard the sound of boots clicking. I turned back to glance at the person who dared to interrupt what I thought of as my therapy session. I looked back only to see the most beautiful sight ever. This sight had no words to describe it. I looked back to see Adrianna,the soon to be Reyna of the Italian Mafia unbeknownst to her, strutting in dresse

Chapter Twenty Two Adrianna's pov Mira went on and on telling me how she got married and how she gave birth to twins unfortunately they died at birth. I felt sorry for her but I didn't say anything because I thought it would bring up old wounds, "What does your husband do for a living?" I asked stylishly if I was going to get married to his cousin I need to know more about them.

Dawn said while staring right at me. "Fuck off, Dawn. You don't know anything about me!" I squealed. I couldn't stand here quietly while she spouted bullshit. I felt Logan's arms wrap around me. "Shh...she isn't worth it." Dawn ignored me and kept her eyes on him. "Consider this my final warning. Stay away from Marina. Eddie, Mike, Jason, they all fell for her lore and look where they ended up? Dead and buried. You'll be joining them very soon," she hissed.

She didn’t ask questions,just sat beside me, her hand pressed over mine. “You’re close,” she whispered. “Don’t slip now.” I kissed her temple. “I won’t.” She lifted her head, met my eyes. The same eyes Micah had. The same fight. “Bring it all down, Adrian.” “I will.” The marina smelled of salt and rotting wood when I stepped onto the dock at ten on the dot. Lights flickered overhead , only half the bulbs still alive, swaying in the breeze like lanterns in some forgotten graveyard.