Mr Dior Manhua の小説・ストーリー

the woman with glasses seated at the front of the arena explained. “Tsk.” The young master stood in the arena with his hands inside his pocket. Dio couldn’t stop the smirk on his face from appearing when he saw the shade of chartreuse green on the man’s hair. Let’s see what you’ve got. ‘You look amused.’ Dio looked at his bond that was staring right at him with curious eyes. He smiled and caressed its head before looking towards Arden Romanov who was faced with the test administrator. “I want to see if this man is strong.”

Looking up I noticed a man standing in front of me, but his face was not clear as he was wearing a mask. Removing the mask, it was that man from the hospital… Yeah, it's him, I thought. What's his name? What's his name?? Oh, yes… Edger, he is Edger. I exclaimed in my mind. Edger… Right? I asked, forwarding my hand… “Oh I am grateful, my lady, that you still remembered me.” he dramatically took my hand and placed a kiss on my knuckles. I quickly withdrew my hand from this flirty man.

Dario was impatient, and it looked like he was going to send the man away. “I am sorry for disturbing you, Dario. I saw you from my table right there…” The man pointed at his table across the hall, but Dario didn’t seem interested. Then he sighed. “My name is Morgan, Dario. I am Morgan Perry.” He made the instruction as fast as he could, and then he extended his hand toward Dario for a handshake, but he was ignored. Dario’s countenance changed at once, and it was very obvious that he had recognized him at a glance.

She often heard Merrick and Thaddeus tease him relentlessly that he had ‘screamed like a bitch in heat. “I’ll give you ten seconds to leave before I lose my temper,” Ronin snarled, the red of his eyes going dim. “Oh my Goddess,” Maia’s jaw dropped as she gawked at the growing crowd. “I can’t believe he showed up.” “Believe who showed up?” Liora followed her gaze, her eyes landing on the mysterious man who walked towards them. His straight copper hair fell in layers around his jaw, doing little to hide the long pink scar beneath his right eye.

Then who was the man? "Madam, why didn't you open the door?" Jenifer panicked, she tried to smile but couldn't. “Excuse me, who are you?” asked Jenifer who tried to hide her face but seemed unable to do so. The man smiled knowingly, he hadn’t even introduced himself and of course Jenifer was panicking now. “My name is Dias, and I am Mr. Biker’s right-hand man, who delivers dresses, shoes and so on along with a famous make-up artist for you, ma’am.”

" Naomi said, feeling a little like herself. Two minutes after she dialed a number, a man emerged from the building where the party was being held. As he came toward us, the man said, "Hello ladies." I looked at him from head to toe, and he was wearing a Dior top and designer shorts. The nigga was hot, man. He was wearing a pair of very nice shoes. Halfway to the back, his hair was braided, and he had weed between his left finger. When he first came toward us, it seemed as though his perfume and the marijuana he was holding were engaged in a battle to determine which scent would prevail.

Especially now that he suddenly seems to have disappeared from the business world, surely many are asking questions about him. The woman raised an eyebrow, waiting for the continuation of Leora's words. "Em, Leora Adhisti," continued Leora, smiling faintly. "My name is Rumi, thank you Leora for helping me," said Rumi, to which Leora nodded his head. "Mommy!" shouted a handsome man, with a sharp nose and white skin. And hazel eyes, which made Leora a little dazzled when she saw them. The gray coat attached to his body made the man's charisma even bigger.

I liked the nickname. Dalia Penedo Salazar says: No, you can keep calling me Doce. Mr. X says: Great. Now I need to work, but I’ll be back later. I hope to meet you here. Dalia Penedo Salazar says: Up to, Mr. X. Mr. X says: See you later, Doce.

* James * When we arrived, I parked the vehicle in the circular drive. She got down before I could even kill the engine. Two figures stepped out from the portico, an older man with shoulders that still carry a general's straightness and a face carved by decisions, Lance Dankworth if I am not mistaken, and beside him a smaller, composed old woman, Julliane Dankworth, whose eyes scan me with a practiced cool. They both look exactly like the kind of people who had run things here long before I was breathing.