Vanoss Marcel Novels & Stories

Anyways let's have lunch and discuss further, all these are boring, am I right? I shake my head and chuckle, "You are impossible." I mutter. "No, bella," he smiled "Impossible is my friend, Damian Voss." "Mr Voss is your friend." the name Damian seemed to make my heart skip beat. "Mhm" he keeps smiling and giving me that 'I know something you don't know' look. "You've spoken about him before, what's he like?" I ask without giving it a second thought. He seems all too glad to answer this, "He's very annoying."

If Marcel is reckless enough to launch a physical assault, we might require someone in the field, someone who can hold him off whilst Morgan engages him directly. Alice looked at them, her eyes glistening. 'Someone… who?' 'I know a former field agent—a woman named Selina Voss. A combat strategist and infiltration expert. She could prove to be a crucial ally, but we must be careful… she’s not easily trusted,' he answered, his handsome face bearing a thin, mysterious smile. 'Right. The more allies we have, the smaller Marcel’s chances of winning. We must ensure this step is always ahead of his.' Marcel decided to execute his next attack directly. He arrived at their house, the rain drenching h

I sat up in my chair, wondering why he was at the club and not at the warehouse where I had sent him to oversee the new shipment of goods I had ordered to be brought in from Italy. He found me and walked past the two men stationed at the doorway, moving towards me. “Vincent…” He started. I shot him a deadly glare and he instantly made amends. “Don Russo.” Marcel was my second-in-command and my right-hand man. Before then, we had grown up together and he had been there for as long as I can remember. When my father had decided that he wanted me to train somewhere far away from home, from Rotana, Marcel had been there for me through it all. He was also the strongest of all of my father’s traine

I warned; I'd love nothing more than to bend her over the dining room table and spank her pretty ass raw. Just as I said, Aunty Maria walked in with three glasses of champagne, placing them on the table in front of us. Then she took a seat across from me and Cassandra. "Alessandro, I wanted to speak to you about the marriage situation, When will Cassandra be moving in with you? Aunty Maria asked taking a small sip of her drink. "As soon as she is ready, I wouldn't want to rush her, especially when her father has recently passed away," I said, placing my hand on her thigh reassuringly.

Genevieve spoke, her tone quiet as she felt defeat fall through her, her lips forming a slight pout as she watched Jasper move his gaze away from her at Mona's words. "Right, sorry," Mona smiled, the smile quickly falling away from her. "I can never keep track of all the married men you sleep with... or do you just sleep with men who are spoken for in general?" "I didn't sleep with Mar-" Genevieve began, her voice rocky and breaking, but both her and Mona both knew the name that was going to fall from her lips before she even spoke it. This was still about Mark. "Whatever, go to your room," Mona replied pointedly, motioning to the landing of the staircase as Genevieve bit back tears of both

Alissa’s cheeks flared crimson. She was too stunned to speak, her thoughts tangled in the smoothness of his voice, the warmth of his touch, the way his presence filled the corridor like dark silk. Before she could gather her wits, footsteps sounded behind them. “There you are!” Vanessa exclaimed, her irritation forgotten the moment she saw Marcello. “Oh my! And who is this fine young man?” Marcello turned with the poise of a seasoned predator, offering a polite nod. “Marcello. I’m Dante’s cousin.”

Why does it appear that the two are inseparable at all times? Anna considered reading the last email sent by Zero. And here is the word from Zero himself. 'Mrs. Davis. These images and evidence demonstrate that Felix and Marcel were acquainted prior to the founding of AMA Entertainment. And for the final image, I discovered that Felix is Marcel's assistant, although no one is aware of this yet.'

The man could speak for himself. “I’m not actually a professor, and my last name isn’t Langford.” He winced, “…it’s Vega.” Violet’s lips parted. She narrowed her eyes, taking him in. Something must’ve clicked in that head of hers because she scoffed once, then twice, then shook her head. “Marcel?” There was an innocent, youthful hope in her voice. Marcel swallowed, visibly nervous as he wrung his hands and smoothed down his bloody dress shirt. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

The sponsor leaned forward slightly, his face hidden, but his words cut like blades. Marcellus swallowed hard, bowing quickly. “My apologies, sir,” he stammered. “I… I ran into a guard… there were unexpected patrols.” The sponsor’s tone was scathing. “Do you think I care for excuses, Marcellus? You come here to serve, and instead, you almost fail before you even arrive.” He shook his head, each word heavy with disappointment and threat. “And now look at you—all of you. Sitting here like obedient little pets, and yet, none of you have gotten rid of that weak, corrupt-blooded girl, Ivonne.”