Milo Thatch の小説・ストーリー

Milo got up from the sofa, waving his hand for Detective Austin to be patient waiting for him 'it is deserving of him getting a scholarship, he is very good at analyzing and responding to his tricky questions by answering in more detail the person's question without exaggerating and creating new questions for listeners' Detective Austin thought in his head "Literature, did you major in literature?" Detective Austin guessed as Milo walked out of his room with a looked focus in Laptop wide open in his hand

Third Person's POV Adelaide seized the opening. Her whip lashed out like a lightning strike, coiling tight around Milo's neck before she yanked him backward with a bone-crushing tug! Milo lost his balance instantly, stumbling and crashing to his knees right in front of her. Standing under the dim, yellow glow of a streetlamp, Adelaide looked down at him, her lips curling into a mocking smirk. "So, you're Milo Fernandez, the Commander of the Western Royal Guard. You lost."

Not the pleasure— but the ruin. He liked them young. Perhaps pretty and desperate too. Boys who wouldn’t scream too loud if he moaned in their ear while chaining their wrists to the bedpost. And one of them? Didn’t walk out. The kid was nineteen. A rookie. A nobody from the projects who got lured into that club with a few lines of coke and the promise of rent money. His name was Milo. Taiko said he had a soft laugh and shaky hands. Said Williams chose him because he looked fragile. Said Williams liked it rough. No—he liked it dangerous.

He asked, "What are you doing here? Why the gun?" Milo glanced at Suzie, who instinctively covered her ears. Then, Milo telepathically communicated with Felix. "I'm with headquarters now. My title is Storm Commander. I'm here investigating reports of an A-tier Malevolent Phantom at this hotel." Felix had not expected Milo to join headquarters, though it made sense. When chaos like this was happening, anyone with a shred of patriotism would want to help. Besides, Milo had likely been training with the soul techniques headquarters provided since Felix first entered Martial City. After three years, she would have made significant progress. Xena once mentioned that Milo was one of the few people

He must be going on an extreme diet that he had to avoid such foods. "There sure is, now come on.." I put my coffee back on the table and looked at him. Crossing my legs as I grinned. He shrugs as he began, "Well.. I am Jacob Milos Ellis, 21 years old turning-" "We already know that!" He laughs, "Tell me something that some of the fans like myself do not know just yet." Milo placed his coffee back on the table and acted as if he was thinking. "I'm not really sure if the fans still don't know about this yet, but I hate snakes." My eyes suddenly widened and stared at him closely - eager to hear and know more.

Phoebe, having finally caught her breath, inched closer and whispered in Mila's ear, "Mila, are you in love with him or what? He's Nathan Morrison from the Norvanian military and a Defense General." Mila exhaled softly. Masking her real feelings, she denied, "I don't love him." "That's good to hear. You almost gave me a scare." Phoebe patted herself on the chest. "What would we do if you fell for him?" "Let's go." Mila marched away with tears in her eyes. … A car cruised down the wide street. Summer had begun, but the interior of the car felt cold. A tense air hung in the enclosed space.

“You done?” He glared. “Not yet. I did what I had to do. Marcus pays. You preach loyalty, but loyalty doesn’t pay bills. Money does. Power does.” I nodded once. “Then go enjoy your power.” He frowned. “What?” I stood, pointing toward the door. “You’re done here, Milo. As of now, you’re out. No patch. No home. You so much as show your face near this clubhouse again, I’ll bury you myself.”

Perhaps, he did not understand that he was asking that question to a gangster, who has his hand over everything possible. Kai, passes a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to slap Huck across the face. "In case you don't know, my name is Milo Kai Anton, known as Lord Viggo. I have access to almost everything I set my eyes on and your community was fortunate to be amongst the things I like. Further, your home or whatever it is picks my attention and does contain what belongs to me". He said the last part with his face void of emotion. The confidence in his tone could tell that he was set to get what he wanted and no one was going to stop him.

I had no idea where they were going with this but I got the feeling that they were trying to put aside their differences with the throne and give me a chance. “Marquess of Mintia, that means he’ll answer to you but given that he’s your brother we have no objection to the title being given to him. We have one concern though.” I knew exactly where Elder Gavril was going with this. “Milo won’t feed on anyone. He survives quite well on blood bags and when he needs fresher blood he feeds from me.” “I prefer type B positive though, personal joke.” Milo grinned and a few of them smiled back, getting his joke.

And Milo—because of course Milo—perched on the low wall, flipping his knife like a man with no interest in keeping his fingers. “Storm girl,” he drawled, grin bright as coin. “How’s it feel being Nytherra’s newest controversy? Fan club? Hate mail?” “Do you practice being insufferable,” I asked, “or is it genetic?” He pressed a hand to his heart, stricken. “Wounded. Catch me, Jarek.” “No,” Jarek said without looking. Kaia clipped mint and didn’t hide her smile. “Stop pestering.” “Pestering?” Milo gasped. “I’m enriching.” He winked at me. “Right, Zoey?”