Normal People Marianne Novels & Stories

questions she asked, but got no answers. Alice was in so much shock that she staggered back to the car for her phone, she had to call someone, anyone, and that was when she saw it, they were everywhere, the lights flashed, against her and the unconscious man that laid almost lifeless on the floor, she didn't know how, but within seconds the once quiet road was filled with people, she couldn't think, she couldn't speak, she could barely breathe, what had she done ? everyone would know about this, she could already see the headlines, YOUNG IRRESPONSIBLE ACTRESS KILLS MAN UNDER THE INFLUENCE, ACTRESS OR ASSASSIN?

Chapter Thirty As she was walking, she saw another car parked beside her. She ignored it and she continued to work. She was distracted by the sound of the car because it made it obvious that the person's inside needs her attention. Before she could talk, the person already came out from the car. “I am sorry, but I have been watching you, are you fine?” The person asked. “I am fine, thank you” Marianne managed to say. “Common, you aren't fine. Where are you going to by this time of the day, with a lot of bags”

She simply wanted to get it done and move on to whatever was next in line. "Congratulations,” the woman attending said. "Your marriage has been registered successfully.” “Thank you, ma," Carlo said with a sheepish smile. Sloane was somewhat irritated by the act. She heaved a sigh and stormed away. Carlo rushed towards her quickly. “Wait!" He shouted. But Sloane was not in any mood for this. She wasn't cut out with the silly attempt to get familiar with him. She got into her car and shut the door. Carlo came knocking on the screen. Sloane looked at him. His lips moved. She rolled down the screen and stared at him.

It wasn’t a prison, but it wasn’t freedom either. A quiet knock startled me. “Come in,” I called, my voice hoarse. The door swung open, and a woman stepped in, her presence so vibrant it was almost jarring. She had long, dark curls and an easy smile that immediately softened the tension coiled in my stomach. “You must be Seraphina,” she said, her voice light and warm. “I’m Lilliana. Rafael’s sister.” I blinked. She looked nothing like him. There was no sharp edge to her, no coldness. Where Rafael was all shadows and quiet menace, she was golden warmth.

I don't know what they are hiding but one day it will surely come out. I was supposed to replace my sister when it was time for her to walk down the alter. It was obvious she really wanted me to suffer always getting married to someone I can never get to know in person first. I looked at Gilbert's face in the picture again. This time it wasn't a handsome man I was getting married to. It was an ugly man with freckles all over his face. Gilbert also had thick big PINK! glasses. Now I was sure that Kira had done this on purpose so I would feel bad. It's working because I really feel horrible.

I told Mariano after getting rid of my uniform apron. "Sit down here." He nodded at the seat in front of him. "Why?" He’d kill me here? "Have I told you not to question me, Bella?" "Yes." I rolled my eyes, obeying. Mariano called for Millie with a flick of his fingers. "Get Isabelle something to eat." He ordered her coldly. My eyes widened. "Mariano!" I hissed. "Be nice. She's a friend." "Not mine." Millie fixed a glare on him. Didn't she want to go to Venice anymore? She surely couldn't if she was buried six feet under.

My eyes widened, and my lips parted as my eyes registered each and every detail of this place. I took a stroll around and noticed a maid picking dead leaves from the ground. Her brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and she appeared lean and frail. I cleared my throat. “Hi there.” I summoned a smile, hoping to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t my killer-husband-to-be or the wall. She briefly raised her head, and I cringed at the possible thought of her head rolling off her bony neck. "Hello, madam," she replied with a polite smile.

Marianna tearfully gazed at Ren, who seemed enraged. “Don't play mute with me, slut. Didn't you hear me properly? You are to give your heart to Mariah, what can't you possibly understand!” she growled at her, then tugged more recklessly on her hair. Despite the pains, Marianna refused to respond – it wasn't mandatory she was Mariah's donor. Were they not countless wolves in the pack? Surely, one would definitely prove a match – why her? She, too, had a life to live. Marianna needn't ponder deeply about the whole situation; she might appear selfish, but so be it.

Muted jazz played in the background, soft and slow, the kind that usually helped me focus. But today, my attention kept slipping. I’d reread the same paragraph three times. Typed and deleted the same sentence twice. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. Then Marianne walked in. She was dressed elegantly, as always — a cream blouse tucked into tailored slacks, gold earrings catching the light, her hair swept into a low twist. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine spread, not skipped a family golf outing. I glanced up. “Why didn’t you go with Grandpa and Dad today?”

Suddenly Marianne spurred up, forcing the woman’s voice to halt, her eyes finding Marianne. Marianne, in a state of panic, swiftly approached Bella and hastily took back the plastic bag, expressing her apologies. She then abruptly turned and stormed away from the woman. Marianne's fear was evident as her face radiated with terror, causing her to lose concentration. Overwhelmed, she leaned against the wall, clutching her chest, while beads of sweat trickled down her skin. The air around her seemed to intensify the heat, creating a stifling sensation within her body.