Simon Marsh Novels & Stories

Hartwell left. Simon sat at his desk and looked at the door for a moment and then looked at the city through the floor-to-ceiling window and felt the specific satisfaction of a problem resolved before it cost more than it needed to. Not triumph — he was not a man who experienced triumph, he experienced completion, the closing of a loop that had been open long enough. He picked up his phone. He called Mara. She answered on the third ring. He heard the background sounds of the estate — the kitchen, he thought, from the particular acoustic quality.

Simon adds, pushing off the marble pillar with a dangerous, gliding stride. He steps into our circle, closing the physical distance with casual grace. His fingers brush against my shoulder, lingering just long enough to trace the line of my collarbone through the fabric of my jacket. His blue eyes flash with a mixture of playful mischief and fierce, protective possessiveness. "Don't listen to him, Eve," Simon murmurs, leaning down just enough for his breath to brush against my ear, sending a delicious, familiar shiver down my spine. "Ashford gets all the dramatic monologues, but I'm the one who memorized every single shortcut through these catacombs just so I could sneak into your quarters a

The next day, it was clear in the sky. Imperial Capital, Your Excellency's wedding. Simon stood at the door. Today, he did not wear a formal dress. He wore a military uniform, which made him look more and more tall and handsome. His hair was combed to the back of his head, revealing his smooth forehead. However, even if his eyes and brows were exposed, no one could guess what he was thinking. There was a soft female voice on it.

“An established outlet who cannot resists the temptation of money has no place in Diamond Country” “I will take over and rebuild it once the weeds are plucked” he stared at Mark with his cold gaze. “In exchange?” Mark is a businessman. He wouldn’t do things for free. “Nothing” Simon said flatly. “I have nothing to offer that you’re willing to accept” “Except, perhaps, some directions on how to proceed?” Simon winked at him then stood up from the sofa. “Simon says, try to complete the documents required for getting married. How about that?” he pulled a tissue and started wiping the seat he has occupied and walked out of the door without looking back at Mark.

“Who?” “My Spanish friend,” Simon said. “The one you used to bully in high school.” Recognition dawned. Damon burst into laughter. “Shit. Dork Xavier?” Simon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You call him that. But he’s not a dork anymore.” He leaned against the wall. “He’s built now. Like… really built.” Damon grinned. “No way. I can’t wait to see him. I kinda miss his dorky ass.”

One day, Simon was relishing the company of escorts and good wine at a premium lounge in a luxurious nightclub. The air was filled with smoke and the sounds from partying. Sitting across from him was the heir of the Schmidt Group, Josh Schmidt. The fact that Simon was invited to the party that night meant he had received the seal of approval from Josh. The Schmidts were considered one of his connections now. Now acquainted with the Becketts and the Schmidts, Simon had no reason to fear the Taylors anymore.

I step into my room and go straight for the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes and undergarments in my wake. The cascade of hot water loosens the knots on my neck and shoulder. Today went better than I expected . The deal I have been trying to close with Crest Holdings, finally found headway today. A slight smile tugs at my lips. It’s safe to say that Mr. Simon was completely sold at the event today. He had approached me with a huge grin and I dare say, new found respect in his eyes. As he shook my hands, he said “ Marriage is an honorable institution. Welcome to the league of family men”

It was subtle, just a slight tightening around the eyes, a fraction of a pause before his usual warm smile appeared. He looked at me, and I could feel the question in it even though he didn't ask it out loud. "Mr. Mars," I started, keeping my tone easy and casual, "this is Simon. He's a friend from the academy." Simon extended his hand with that natural confidence of his. "Nice to meet you." Mr. Mars shook it, his smile polite. "And you, sir." "Simon, this is Mr. Mars. He runs the house." Simon nodded, glancing around the entrance with quiet appreciation. "Beautiful place."

I am relieved when Simon makes an appearance. “The table looks so lovely M, I love what you have done with it. Maybe we should entertain more if I get to see how talented you are.” "Yes, I can see your house keeper is a man of many talents," Mr douche chimes in with false sincerity. Simon looks at him with a strange expression, and I can see his jaw harden. "Marcus is more than my House keeper he is also my friend and my…and ..and someone very special to me," he finishes softly, taking my hands in his. This man ..he really knows how to wreck me. I squeeze his hand, hoping he can see how grateful I am. I get up to bring the food to the table and tune out their shop talk as I plate the food.

Yet, Simon couldn't help but feel that he had discovered something extraordinary in Mara, something that transcended their supernatural labels. Simon's strategy wasn't just about knowledge; it was also about patience and subtlety. He knew he couldn't force Mara to be with him. Instead, he decided to be a presence in her life, to be the friend she could trust. He often found reasons to visit the Silver Moon Pack, engaging in conversations, offering assistance, and lending a supportive ear. He was careful not to push too hard, allowing their connection to evolve naturally.