Star And Marco Novels & Stories

the assistant said. Marco's face darkened, and he looked defiant. "Why can't I deal with the Carlson family? Who do they think they are?" "Sir, let's focus on the bigger picture," the assistant murmured, afraid that Marco would vent his anger on him. But his words calmed Marco down. They made sense. Star Entertainment had just started its development in Meawood City. It wasn't suitable to confront Delbert head-on. He should take it slow for the bigger picture.

Marco sat a seat behind her, fiddling with a deck of playing cards, trying and failing to act casual. “So,” Marco said, voice too loud for the mood, “I’m thinking if we make it back from this alive, I open a beach bar in Tulum. Cheap drinks, no guns, no Russians. I even serve mojitos with little umbrellas. Anyone in?” Silence. Emilia offered a weak smile. Isadora didn’t even blink. “Maybe if you stop talking, the chances of survival will go up.” Marco raised his hands. “Jesus. I’m trying to cut the tension here. We’re flying straight into the devil’s playground and you all look like you’re going to a funeral.”

Arsenio laughed when all the five people nodded at Arsenio. Arsenio gave them some money and clapped. A silhouette came in the presence of light , “What an actor you are Marco! You can try movies buddy you will win an Oscar…..I will not support them CAPO if you want you can kill me ....” He laughed and Marco joined him “He was hell bent on killing someone.” Marco said “I don’t like fear when my men face Marco and where Venito is? I need him to spy on someone.” “I will call him and ask to talk with you.”

Marco’s gaze swept over the scene, quickly assessing the damage. But then, something caught his eye. Gaia. She was lying on the ground, her face pale, blood pooling beneath her. For a split second, Marco’s heart stopped. “Gaia!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he sprinted toward her. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over her trembling body. There were two wounds—one in her belly, another near her chest. The sight of the blood soaking through her white wedding dress sent a sharp pang of panic through him.

Sabrina Marco’s personal driver pulled up and stopped the vehicle in front of the stadium. As soon as the car stopped, Sabrina and Marco hopped out quickly, as if their exit were being timed. Marco pulled the brim of his plain cap down and put on his sunglasses. Their ride drove off, and the two of them joined one of many lines of people being filtered into the stadium. The massive crowds reminded Sabrina of ants funneling into a colony. She felt glad to have Marco by her side and never allowed herself to get beyond an arm’s reach away.

Marco, charged into the room, his face a mask of determined urgency. "Fuck, Marco! Get me out of this!" Marco rushed over, yanking out a set of bolt cutters. “Hang on, I’ll get you out of here!” "What's happening?" I asked. "Marco's leaving the country, but he isn't going alone." "What are you talking about?" I asked. "He's got Taylor with him..." "What! I have to get her back," I said as Marco quickly sliced through the chains with swift cuts. "That might not be the best option,"

Later that night, after everyone had finally gone quiet, after the house had fallen into a heavy silence again, Marco sat alone in the office where Stefano used to work, the maps still on the table, the notes still where he left them, the chair slightly pushed back like he had just stood up and would return any minute. Marco looked at the maps for a long time, then slowly folded them and placed them in a drawer, one by one, closing everything Stefano had been working on, because there were no more wars to plan now. No more enemies to hunt. No more revenge to take. Just silence. Marco leaned back in the chair and looked around the office one last time. “You idiot,” he muttered quietly to hims

Puffing out smoke as the sheer weight of all the gold he stole put pressure on the engine. We ate into that twelve hour head start, every mile we drove away from the fortress feeling like a betrayal. I know Reu would be feeling the same, not that I was able to talk to him. The bulky Marco and Levi ensured that we were never alone together. We drove in separate trucks, never paired together. Marco was olive-skinned with a long skinny black ponytail flat to his skull. Levi had a white mohawk and long white plaited beard. Covered in tattoos and scars, we looked like a terrifying group.

“But some of us made it out. We’ve been laying low, trying to figure out our next move.” Nodding and processing the information. “Do you have any idea where Marco might be?” Rico hesitated. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” My heart raced. “What? Do you know something?” He glanced around nervously. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he suggested. We moved further away from the house, towards the cliff’s edge. The ocean waves crashed against the rocks below, the sound almost drowning out Rico’s next words. “I saw Marco,” he said quietly. “Last week, near the docks. He was with a group of men I didn’t recognize. I guess Powell's men.”

“And that it not going to happen if you are all fighting like a bunch of rats in some pod.” His expression shifted. Nathan glanced at me, curious but not surprised. “Marcel is unstable,” I continued quietly. “Dominic stands between him and destruction. The council is restless. Rogues are hungry. Packs are divided. And as far as the rumor goes, your little rogue has managed to contain a beast that would be more than willing to take over if Marcel simply ticked.” I stepped closer, my voice lowering. “All it takes is one thread to snap… and everything unravels.”