Mark Manio Romane & Geschichten

It was a deep cut, probably from a knife, right below his collarbone. "What happened?" My voice was tender. I was so afraid. I had seen him get shot once, and I had seen him hurt before, but I still hadn't gotten used to the mafia life. "It's nothing." Mariano's voice was rough. He was still mad. "I'll stitch it up. It will be fine." "You will do no such thing." I snapped. "Shut up and come to the hospital with me." "No hospitals." "Fine, then I'm calling Dr.Rei." Dr Rei was the doctor for the entire mafia.

His eyes were staring deeply at Mina like he could tell her exact reply. He was patiently waiting for her to decline the offer just like the others who applied before. "I accept". "Eh?". Her reply caused Mark to almost fall off from his chair. "Doesn't she have any idea who our Mafia Cassano is?". He was lost in his thoughts. "Are you okay, Mark?". She questioned. "Of course I am". He said before searching inside his drawers to bring out a file, including lots of textbooks that had different hard cover designs.

Sage Pov The tension in the penthouse was a physical thing, thick and heavy, like the air right before a thunderstorm. I sat opposite Mark at the dining table—the only piece of furniture that survived my earlier fit of rage—watching him pull up encrypted files on his tablet. The earlier fury had settled into a cold, lethal focus, and I knew that meant war. "The old man's name is Domenico DeLuca," Mark stated, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "He is the architect. Vincent was just the muscle who inherited the name."

“I came to make sure no one here gets ideas. Damien dying was unfortunate. But he played with fire. You know that. I know that. You don’t have to pretend otherwise.” One of the old guys shifted like he wanted to say something. I looked at him, then back at the kid. “You’ve got whispers floating through this room. Marco’s name coming up too much. Like maybe he’s still got something. Let me tell you something clear. He’s got nothing.” I stepped forward. “He’s got no wife. No soldiers worth their guns. No power. He’s scrambling like a corner rat, and all he’s gonna do is bleed.” The kid crossed his arms, trying to look firm. “We’ve lost a lot.”

“Enough!” Anton couldn’t control himself, and he roared at his younger sister. “Let’s get back to the topic. Who is that person named Mark? Angelo just shrugged at Anton’s question. Because of this, he earned a deadly glare from Anton, which caused Angelo to bury himself even more in his seat. “Mark Akkin Castro is his full name. As for how he and Aimie got married, that’s what I don’t know.” Angelo could do nothing but tell the truth to the ugly frog he was talking to right now.

The fear that coursed through her veins was palpable, threatening to overwhelm her. "Well, I can assume that you might be someone special to Mara," Mark, the shady man, drawled, his voice dripping with malice. "You're probably not like him, or I would have known. My name is Mark, and what do they call you?" His words were laced with a calculating curiosity, his gaze piercing through Lucia like a cold blade.

I tapped the paper. “He did,” Nico confirmed. “His name is Marco. He’s a trustworthy man who could take a secret to the grave. He contacted me because he hadn’t heard anything from Fabio in years—and that’s when you crossed my mind.” “What did you say?” “That he’s dead…an unfortunate accident.” “What did he say?”

he greeted me with a small bow. "What did you get?" He dropped a file in front of me, I reached for it and opened it.. there's a picture of a baldhead man. "That's Justin Marconi, he's 57 years...he was a very skilled sniper.. he was supposed to be in jail but he broke out and up till now, no one knows his whereabouts... " I raised my hand, signaling him to pause. I took a closer look at the man, there's a big scar on his face and he seemed a little familiar.

An instructor lays out a few guns and safety gear pausing when he sees us. The stranger greets Justine and Damien and grins when she hands him my mystery box. He happily places it on the table and then brings his attention to me. “Lola, this is Markum, Gio's Guard. He’s been with the agency for eight years. He’s also a good friend of mine,” Damien proudly introduces the man. He and Justine step to the side to let us speak. Markum is handsome with dirty blonde hair and a medium athletic build. Not as god-like as Damien, but still sexy.