Michael Mell の小説・ストーリー

Michael was only one of them. And after Michael—who would come next?

My fingers tightly gripped the canvas straps of my thrifted duffel bag, the faded fabric a stark contrast to the pristine, stitched leather beneath me. ​"You're going to burn a hole through the glass if you keep staring at it like that," a low, gravelly voice cut through the hum of the engine. ​I didn't turn my head. I didn't need to. I could see his reflection in the window—the sharp, arrogant line of his jawline, now marred by a faint, fading purple bruise from the industrial warehouse brawl. Michael "Mike" Weller. Nineteen years old, standing at a towering six-foot-three, with a mop of golden blonde hair that looked effortlessly styled even when he'd just rolled out of bed. He wore a simp

After hearing the Italian Mafia Boss's order everyone switched into action. " I got it! " Willy, the short man from a corner replied. " Konstantin Dmitri visited the western Hall rent last week twice. Afterwards he invited a surgeon into his lair. In his account the amount of $4,976,468,588,568 was deducted for some reason I couldn't pinpoint. Then earlier today he hired a bomb experts. Right now he is in new York, having a light party with some strippers "

“This was the only thing left.” I felt a sharp pain in my chest. “Damn Tony,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “It’s one thing targeting me, but to go after all of you too? That’s pure wickedness.” She sniffed and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Michael’s wife left him just today,” she said quietly. “As he couldn’t find a job. He’s been trying so hard, Mellisa… but the wife said that she just couldn’t take it anymore.”

"We found something! The LLC's registered to a Derek Holcomb." Michael's lips curled into something that resembled a smile but carried none of its warmth. "Elliott's husband." The name hung in the air like smoke. Elliott Lane—Alex's older brother, the golden boy of Silicon Valley, the only person who had stood by her during the divorce. The man who had called Michael "a cancer on the business world" at a TechCrunch conference last spring, knowing exactly which reporters were within earshot.

The four of us grew up togeather, i trust these three with my life, though i trust nearly noone else. Ri'elle is 5'8'' with dreadlocks that come down to his shoulders, he is clean shaven, with a strong angular jaw, He is fit, strong but not bulky, his eyes are amber and seem to shine in the moonlight. Micheal is 6'7'' with short blonde hair, and large ears. I know that he is strong, but he really doesnt look it. He is large, but fat by any means, but he definitly has an extra layer.

And that meant bad in a whole different way, on a whole new level. **** “Like, don’t know what you did man, but Killian wants you as his bodyguard. Officially. “ Michael looked up from his coffee, some of the liquid sloshing and he cursed loudly. “Yeah, we’re all like what the fuck.” “Yeah.” Michael muttered, trying to wipe out the dark stains from his t-shirt. No one had told him. Apparently he was hearing the news last. "And here I'm supposed to be investigating them, joke's on me" he thought.

When his relationship with Avelyn was strained due to various problems. "Are you looking for me?" Michael's dream was broken, he immediately turned his head to the side to talk to Jim. “Tell that stupid doctor my name is Michael. My time to become Elvis is over." "Finally you're done too. How many times have I told you to stop being Elvis and trick everyone." "I have to do it to solve the fraud that has been happening at every Elvis company." growled Michael angrily. He did not do this without a reason, unfortunately he was caught yesterday in a game he created himself.

After all, he had just returned from a two-year peacekeeping mission. "Hello! Good day, princess!" a male voice interrupted my thoughts. It was Michael. I turned and looked at him. He was incredibly handsome, with fresh-looking skin and a pointed nose. He had the appearance of someone from Somalia or India. I was captivated by his good looks, gazing into his eyes as he greeted me again, bringing me back to reality.

"The subject never came up. And since I´ve been with the two of you, always I could enjoy living in the present, or even better, look to the future. I never needed to think about the past...." Beth stands up suddenly, her chair scraping back. "Enough, you men! Leave her alone. She´s had enough without you digging and probing... Let her enjoy her meal." For a moment, there is a stunned silence, then Beth turns to Michael. "So, what do you do Michael? Are you an architect or engineer too?" "No, not me." he smiles, still holding my hand. "I run ´Life and Fitness´, down in the west end." "Really?" says Richard. "I think Beth uses your services a couple of times a month, don´t you Beth."