Marcel Gerard の小説・ストーリー

It was almost six. I stood up abruptly to freshen up and have a change of clothes. Before I came out, I could hear Gerrard welcoming some people into our home. They were here. Serena and Marcel. I could tell just by Marcel's unique scent. The one he alone had the sole right to use—anyone who used the same scent could be sued. Besides, there's no way they would be able to use the same scent because you could only get the scent from the Lorenzo dynasty.

In fact, he often spends holidays with my family. Marcel is forty-nine with short, limp dark brown hair fading grey at the edges. He has a salt and pepper trimmed beard and soft hazel eyes. Outside of the frown lines on his forehead he only has some slight creasing around the corners of his eyes, but no other wrinkles to be seen. He always dresses sharply and is currently in black slacks, black Armani dress shoes, a black pinstripe shirt and a black tie with a gold diamond pattern in the design. He’s also wearing his usual gold wolf cufflinks. He loves anything to do with wolves, he even owns one as a pet which he named Blade, who is absolutely gorgeous! I step out of the cab as Marcel walks

Marcel says laughing. "Brother try and relax, you don't need to be so uptight especially with us"Marcel says as he taps prince Aldrich on his shoulder in an understanding manner. Marcellus is the son of one of the most wealthiest and influential person in Nevera, his father holds the position as the king's right hand man and advisor. His father is a friend of my father and "High Lord Duncan" is a very hard man. So of any one can understand the burden that comes with being the son of someone that influential and powerful then that someone is Marcel...

Maison Virelle executives. They all stood when Marcelline entered. One of them smiled warmly. “Ms. Odette.” She blinked. “You’re…” “Jean Moreau,” the man said. “Director of International Partnerships.” Marcelline looked back at the assistant. He simply smiled. Jean gestured toward the table. “We wanted to meet you properly.” “You could have done that earlier.” “We wanted to see you first.” “Why?” Jean smiled. “To confirm something.” “What?” “That the rumors were wrong.”

Dario spoke loudly, gaining the attention of the other four men present in the room. "I had no idea that you had this sort of fantasies, Romeo. We invited you a lot of times, but you always declined us."Marcello said this as he started to make drinks for me. Marcello is a charming but ruthless businessman known for his cutthroat tactics. For a second I didn’t understand what Marcello was saying but then I remembered this circle is all about sex, money, and power.

“Like your mate? I’m sorry, my name is Amoux, not Gerard. People say that to me and I don’t even want to think about it because I don’t know the guy you are talking about. Just consider me his doppelgänger, ok. Stop following me or else, I will inform Garold and tell him that maybe you want to have an affair with me. We both know he wouldn’t take it easy with you. You know how he behaves.’ “Amoux, what is going on here?’ We both went still, our eyes widened as we both turned to where the voice came from. Gerard. He was in baggy black trousers, a baggy white designer shirt. His straight white hair was at shoulder length. His his arms decorated up with tattoos. He was breathtaking and his lips

"Not like back then." We both fell quiet. "He was such a lonely boy thrown into the world with no parents", Gerard whispered angrily. I remembered what they had told me. After Michaël had gone to study at Harvard, I had taken in Gerard and Marie. They had told me everything; Gerard had to drink wine to be able to speak, Marie had cried

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

Maria Maharani stood trembling in the corner, while a man in a black Brioni pointed a gun at her. “That's...” Marcus gasped. “Impossible,” Vic shook his head. “That's...” “Gerard van der Meer,” Dufort finished. “Or at least, the man we know as Gerard.” “What do you mean?” Dufort pressed another button. The screen displayed a scan of an old passport. “The real Gerard van der Meer died in a skiing accident in the Alps in 1998. His identity was then assumed by operatives of Les Roses Noires.”

replied the butler. “I see… Well, I don’t think staying here any longer will help. With that said, we’ll be taking our leave now,” said Gerald as he nodded at the group before leaving with his party… On their way to Marcel’s base—that the butler had given them directions to—, Professor Boyle couldn’t help but shake his head with a sigh before muttering, “It’s such a pity that Marcel’s dead… Our only lead is now exhausted!” “We don’t know that for sure. Either way, let’s have a look around his base first!” replied Gerald. This was his best lead to date, and he wasn’t about to give in that easily! With that said, all four of them then rushed to Marcel’s base…