Tomás Novelas e Histórias

“They don’t have any respects for their supreme provider who made their lives sustainable? That’s unforgivable!” [Thomasito Felipe II or sometimes referred as “Thomas”, a famous Landlord in the country of Meccichuzan, known for his incredible knowledge in business trading, politics and large provisions to its subordinating towns. His son, who was rejected by the lady was Thomasito Felipe III (nickname: Tom), the next ruler who will be placed in position when his father retires.] Thomas stood up in his chair while having a tobacco on his right hand, walked towards the large transparent wall-sized window, smoking and looking to the direction of the country-side.

Katerina got up from the couch, shaking her head in both disgust and annoyance as she walked toward the bar. One of the girls walked toward our table, but both Ezra and Diego didn’t pay her a second glance. “They smell like aphrodisiac,” Ezra stated, and Diego shook his head. “Forcing their pleasure out of them. Something that my father has as a profession. It is a shame that he doesn’t see it as wrong and doesn’t have anyone to tell him off, don’t you think?” Diego said, standing up as he looked at the woman, Katerina. “What are you going to do?” I asked, and he looked back at Cosimo.

I remain composed with a small smile plastered on my face. Maximo smirks at me, his gaze simply darkening in a frightening way. It's the first time he has looked at me like this, “ Isn’t that right, Samantha? You won’t play any tricks on us right, cause you know I am itching to burn stuff up,” My senses are alert and I offer a sharp node. He snaps his fingers, “ Great, Santino, call her brother.” He instructs. As he ashes up the cigar in his palms. I took note of how he only smokes one type of cigar, the most expensive one in the world. He is truly living up to his billionaire reputation.

He was dressed in a tuxedo and was holding two glasses of drinks with a nice smile which he found strange because it was appealing to him, he waved it at the back of his mind and returned the smile "honestly, they are worst than a bug." The young man laughed softly at his joke before handing him a drink to which he collected, "allow me to introduce myself Mr. Boron, I am Oliver Simon, at your service" he did a dramatic bow which Kane must admit was a little funny since it wasn't necessary. "And what will be your service be to me Mr. Simon?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile on his lips. "To drive the pests away of course but you must be ready to pay me handsomely."

Even now, as I'm brooding behind my desk, his smile lights up the room. "Hermfuego?" I hear Tomás call out as he approaches my desk. Hermfuego was a term Tomás came up with, which is short for fire brother. He's always called me that ever since he was a little kid. I think part of it is because of my middle name being Blaze. I found it cute, so I never stopped him from calling me differently. I can't deny how much not being able to hear that endearment affected me. It was an endearment I had gotten used to hearing; it felt odd not being able to hear it.

Gold band on her left hand caught candlelight every time she moved. Tomás wore black linen trousers and nothing else bare chest tanned deep from vineyard walks, silver at his temples more pronounced now, making him look dangerous in a way that still made her thighs clench. The scar from Chicago was a faint white line across his left shoulder blade; she liked to trace it with her tongue when they fucked slow. They hadn’t spoken much over dinner. Words weren’t necessary tonight. After the last bite of fig drizzled with local honey, he stood.

It was small — a few hectares of granite and scrub pine above the waterline, a natural harbor on the eastern side that could swallow a small boat without difficulty, a white house that faced the ocean and had been here long enough to have become part of the rock. The person who lived there was named Tomás — sixties, broad, with the patient physicality of someone who had lived close to the Atlantic long enough to have absorbed some of its permanence. He met them at the dock with the complete absence of surprise of someone who had been expecting Marta specifically and accepted whatever she brought with her as part of the nature of Marta. "Three rooms," he said t

"I hit him." "You didn't have to go that far," he scolded. "I just hope this doesn't reach Katherina's ears." "She'd be more than happy if she found out," Tom whispered. "Are you...?" "I'm Maroon, the owner of this shop, boss of these crazies, and like a second father to Katherina," he introduced himself. "And you must be Tom, the one who almost destroyed the entire shop because of her," he laughed.

“Mr. Jenkins, hello, I’m Tomas Soros. We met a few weeks back, and I’m here trying to convince this young man to stop delaying and leave this area. I’m sure this accident hinders your business, but this boy is difficult to deal with.” Tomas said, losing all his arrogance when Jenkins arrived next to them.

“At the scene?” He hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Yes. She pushed me out of the way. The bike would’ve hit me otherwise.” I studied him more closely. His clothes were plain, worn at the seams. He looked like he belonged in a maintenance shed more than anywhere else. “Who are you?” I asked. “And why were you with her?” “I—my name’s Tomas,” he said nervously, voice trembling. “I used to work at a… facility. Years ago. An asylum. She—she was there once. That’s how we know each other.”