Romans & histoires Muichiro Marked

he said with his thick Italian accent A soft footstep followed "That's weird, she should have woken up by now", that voice, i recognised it immediately She laughed softly, "She's fooling you, Marco" She kicked my side twice "Get up" I looked into a pair of blue eyes, the same eyes that had offered me a drink at the club. I stared at her bitterly. “So these are the eyes everyone’s been talking about,” Marco sneered, looking at me like I was dirt. My eyes? What the hell was he talking about?

When he turns in his seat to look, his light brown eyes brighten and he holds his hands over his heart. “Amiga?” With Musu’s help, Marco stands up to his full height, towering over everyone else. He has a wool peacoat draped over his shoulders with a black beanie hat covering his head. Beneath, he is wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with a military emblem on it. He takes the Musu’s hand to help support him so he can walk toward us. He looks much older than his twenty-six years.

“She has survived she has survived against all odds. God has finally accepted my prayers for once. “And has brought her back from the brink of death, proving that even in the darkest of moments, there was always hope.” But the celebration is cut short after Don Mauro starts laughing out happily and pours himself a glass of that expensive whiskey, he has beside him every time before he lights his cigar. He then commands the goon beside Erede. “Go ahead and mark her now. This is still your task. And I need you to smoothly complete it. I don’t like losers working for me. “I need you to mark her….Mark her and complete the marking to Kill Luciano’s wolf. Turn him powerless for me to kill him once

"O siya sige,, tama na nga! Bahala na bukas! Marco pa check nga ulit yung employee profile na pinakita mo kahapon. Tignan ko lang ang apilyedo ng Claire na yun." Walang imik na ini on ni Marco ang kanyang laptop at iniopen sa excel file folders niya. Magkakatabi ang kanilang ulo sa pagbabrowse. Tatlo silang tumitingin sa mga pangalan, at sabay din nilang nakita. "Claire Michaels!" bulalas nilang tatlo, "Hindi naman pala foreigner. Haha pero malay mo, may sugar daddy siyang foreigner!" si Marco ang unang nagka opinyon.

A scout from a neighboring pack, one thought long scattered in the war. In his hand was a sigil drawn in dirt and blood. Not of the Broker, not of Striker. A new mark, unfamiliar but pointed directly at us. Mia stepped forward, knelt beside him, and read the final breath he whispered into her ear. Her face changed not in fear but in recognition. Something she thought buried had just clawed its way out of the grave. “We’re not done,” she said, rising to her feet. “And this time, it isn’t about me.”

He said it like repeating a prayer he didn’t understand. “How would you know the heir?” Marco demanded. “How would anyone know?” Massimo rubbed the side of his head and looked at his hands, as if the words might hide there. “He pointed,” he said finally. “He pointed at a generational mark and he said the mark belonged to those born by that blood line. That was all he muttered before giving out a thin and cracked laughter. “That’s all I saw, I don’t know more.” He shuddered.

He greeted me with a wave and that familiar crooked smile. I didn't hesitate. I threw my arms around him in a fierce hug, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke. "You took your sweet time getting here, Darmos." Marco chuckled, returning the embrace before gently extricating himself. "Work held me up. You know how it is." I pulled back and pouted, "I know exactly how it is. Ever since you started working for the mafia, we barely see each other anymore.” "Hey, don't look at me like that," Marco said, his voice softening. He glanced around to make sure they were alone, then leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've got something planned."

It wasn’t just one image—it was several. Grainy black-and-white photographs, clearly taken from security footage or long-lens surveillance. A few were timestamped. Others had captions hastily scribbled in red ink. Marco was in all of them—some at docks, others near armored vehicles, one beside a man whose face was crossed out with a red X. But the worst one… Mia’s breath caught.

Mark had a moment of guilt, and he slowly walked in, standing in front of Uma's hospital bed. "Are you okay?" he asked. Uma turned her head and looked at him with confusion. But his eyebrows, his eyes, for some reason, gave Uma a strange feeling. "Who are you?" "My name is Mark," said Mark. Uma was surprised, "Your last name is Li?" "Yeah, same last name as you, Li." Uma's expression hardened. "What did you come here for?" Mark gave a bitter smile and said, "Don't you ask me about our relationship?"

At least something was useful in his body except heart and brain. Mark stood and asked permission from Falcon" Capo can I take part in this?" Falcon nodded "Gladly" he started sipping his wine from a tulip glass. He closed his eyes in satisfaction while listening to the crying and blood odor of Uzochi. Uzochi's dead body which was in shreds now limped on the floor. Mark kept his brain and heart in front of Falcon whose eyes shone in amusement. Whole meeting room was dead silent and the smell of blood reeking in the room but someone was shaking terribly. It was none other than Marko.