As the time passes by and everyday is working hard to earn money for their life Julien chooses to hold a private press conference as to involve more paparazzis this year as he wanted to see if the culprit comes to his conclusion of making himself a victim by sneaking picks and writing his scripts down for a fake news. Julien makes sure that he have enough bodyguard standing by for taking his instant orders. He also conducted ten more bodyguards in front of his house. Tyler, his personal assistant and driver for the protection of Monica. Monica has been throwing up since she was left on the bed alone earlier the night. Or she had food poisoning? Julien couldn't come to a clear conclusion. It never appeared in his head and something was off. So he set two more cameras in her room. Monica took two weeks off. For god sake she looked pale and almost like a lost child. Julien holds his breath and pushes through the door of Monica's room. "Good morning, sunshine. I got meat stew for you. It'
After sitting in the store for two hours the salesman comes with the paperworks to Julien “All right Mr. Tedd, it’s all ready. One red Mercedes-Benz G-Class G63 AMG, in the name of Monica Tedd. The car will be ready for delivery on the twenty-second of the month.” At first, he was told that he have to wait until February for thecar, it’s the middle of December now. When Julien not so kindly informed that he would be paying cash and that he expects to have a car delivered prior to Christmas day, the salesman almost shits himself. He came through though. They always do when they realise you have money. Julien figured that he would put a big ass bow on it and call it a Christmas present. She can’t reject a Christmas gift, can she? “I just need you to sign here, and here,” the salesman says, pointing out where Julien needs to sign. “You’ll need to leave a twenty percent deposit today and the rest will be due two daysprior to delivery.” Pulling out his wallet he hands over the black car
As soon as Catalina texted back to him telling that his wife received something more than her name. About some tombstones. "Hey, Bray what's more there?" "Uh, a picture of a tombstone." “Whose tombstone was in the picture, Bray?” Julien asks, needing more information. “Look, she’s okay Julien. I’ve got her right next to me, actually she’s so close to me it would probably give you a coronary if you saw.” He’s probably right, but he also knows he’s trying to distract him from the situation. “Bray, do me a favour and send me a picture of the piece of paper. Keep her fucking close, I swear if anything happens to her …” Julien lets his sentence drown off, because the thought of anything happening to her is inconceivable. “Okay, I’ll send a picture. See you when you get here, bro.” He hangs up before Julien can reply. Bray sends the picture through straight away. The moment he zoomed in on the image, his blood went cold. There are two tombstones, one older looking one, he can barely make
As they both melt into each other and Julien feels the taste of sweet white wine lingers on her tongue, as shemeets him stroke for stroke. Julien gets so lost in the moment, that he forgets where they were, he forgets about the picture that had his blood running cold. He forgets it all as he tries to communicate with her just how much he fucking love her with this kiss. Pulling back she smiles up at him. “Mmm, hi.” “Hi, sunshine. How are you feeling?” Julien asks, not wanting to ruin this moment but also needing to know if she really is okay. He pins her with his eyes as he waits for her answer. “I’m better, now that you’re here,” she responds, batting her eyelashes at him. Julien laughs and damn it feels good to laugh. “How are you really feeling? I saw the picture. Monica. You don’t need to pretend or hide your feelings from me. Youknow that, right?” Julien feels like he needed to reassure her that no matter, he was not going anywhere. He knows that she hasn’t had that much in he
“Oh Monica, we need to go, we have to get home!” Sarahexclaims. Julien body tenses, like fuck is she taking Monica home. Julien looks to Monica, to her mischievous smile up at him. “Oh babe, I have to do something at my townhouse. I forgot until just now,” she says like that’s all the explanation Julien needed to hear. “What is it you have to do?” Julien asks, he knows that she’s very tipsy,and if she thinks that Julien was letting her go anywhere without him she’s bloody nuts. “Umm … I umm … I have to … you know …” She’s looking to all the girls to help her. Help her what? What could she possibly have to do that she can’t tell Julien? She is being like a puppy in front of her friends? “Told you, he’d find out. You’re a fucking hopeless liar, Monica,” Bray laughs at her. “Find out what?” Julien asks very pointedly to Monica, who issquirming in her seat. “Argh, it’s a surprise and I’m not telling you because it’s a surprise for you. But you can’t see it because it’s a Christmas sort
Leaning in Julien whispers in her ear, “babe, I know he would be respectful, I know my brother. I never doubted his intentions. It’s just a little fun to watch him squirm for abit. But I’m glad he was there to help you. I just wish that it was me. I should have been there.” “You can’t be with me all the time, Julien. It’s not how life works. Now I need you to drive Sarah and I to our townhouse, because I have someone meeting me there.” Who does she have meeting her at her place? Julien was curious and was wanting to question it, but when he remembers how happy she was when she talked about how she has a surprise for me, he can’t bring himself to question her. Like he just told her that he trusts her completely. Julien pulls over at the front of Monica's townhouse. The drive here has given her time to sober up, which has returned the nervousness of what she was about to do. Think of Julien. Think of Julien and nothing more matters. Repeating that over and over in her head, she can see h
As a child Monica spent many nights lying awake, dreaming of how different her life would have been if her mum didn’t die. If she had siblings that she could count on to be there in hard times. When she have kids, she definitely wants at least three, so they all have each other to lean on. Hold the front door. Where the hell did that thought just come from? When she have children? What the hell happened to a girl who would literally have apanic attack at the thought of having kids? Julien happened, that’s what happened. She can see how much of a great dad he will be if they had children. He steppedup and took over raising a thirteen-year-old girl and seventeen-year-old teenage boy. That could not have been easy by any standard. But he has never made it out to seem like a chore, he’s never complained about having to grow up before his time. He loves his siblings unconditionally. Monica knows without a shadow of doubt, he will love their kids the same. Monica was brought out of her t
There was paint everywhere, red paint splashed all over the room, on the floor, on the walls, it’s even on the ceiling. The message that’s written above what used to be Monica's bedhead is what breaks her frozen stance and has her screaming at the top of her lungs. The message painted in what she hoping is red paint says.I’m coming for youWe will meet soon xxxOh my god! All of her things, everything that she have worked so hard to get has been destroyed. Running to her wardrobe, Monica was scrambling to the mess. No, she cannot have ruined it. She was crying, rummaging, trying to find it. She can’t find it. Why can’t she find it?Strong arms wrap around her and pull her back, stopping her from looking. “No, I have to find it, it has to be here,” Monica says as she fights her way out of his hold. “Shh, sunshine, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. It’s going to beokay.” It’s not going to be okay, it’s never going to be okay. Why doesn’t he know? This is what her life is, one fucked up sit
As they both share a passionate time.“Princesse, please.” It’s a beg, Monica will admit, but it’s growled with deep hunger. She flips her hair over one shoulder, putting her weight onto one arm to take Jackson in hand. Standing him upright, she aligns herself with him. “I loveyou, husband,” she says sweetly. “I love you, wiiiiife.” Jackson means to return the sweet words, knowing it will get her off as much as it does him, but Monica sinks her bliss down onto him, taking all thought and word formation skills from his brain. Engulfing all of Jackson in her warmth and wetness, she begins to move, sliding up and down his shaft at an unhurried pace. Jackson murmurs to her in French as he pinchens and plucks her nipples, reaching between them to circle her clit with his thumb, and lay a sharp smack to the flesh of her hip. Tobias once told Monica that a man has three women—his wife, his mistress, and his whore. He was the lucky bastard who has found all three in onewoman. Monica was eve
The reception was full of laughter, dancing, and magic. It must be magic because nothing else could bring that big of a smile to his bright bride’s face. Monica was on the dance floor with her bridesmaids. They were swaying andmoving, lifting their hands in the air as they sing along with the music. “She’s beautiful,” Jamaica grunts from beside him. “Congratulations.” Jackson looks over at him, taking a slow sip of his scotch. “Watch it,” Jackson teases. They have made peace, with each other and their pasts, not letting them affect their precious futures. In fact, Jamiaca was doing much better now, working an apprenticeship in home construction with plans to become a project manager one day. He grins back. “What can you tell me about her?” Jackson follows his line of sight and chuckles and he sees Claire from the coffee shop that Monica prefers. Monica insisted that they fly Claire to France for the wedding. “Good luck. Just don’t fuck it up, or that one will eat you alive.” “That s
His expression was like he had too much on his head already. He grew beards and had an manly scent. Not that she was still attracted to him. But his expression told her that he was not happy with the life he was living. The knowledge of breaking the news of getting married with Jackson had filled Julien with false hope and accusations that she can always come back to him if she wanted to. She can still have a half portion of his heart and stay there for his and hers little boy's sake. “How do I look?” Monica asks her Mom, glancing down at her beautiful dress. “Gorgeous,” she says, on the verge of tears again. “Are you sure you are not going to be cold, though?” Hopefully, she holds up the lacy shawl she found online for her. Once upon a time, she would have heard that as a way to say she doesn’t like her dress or as a critique of the timing of the wedding, or even a question about whether she should be getting married in the first place. Now, Monica takes it for what it is. “I’m no
“I already gave some to Simon. You got yourself a good one here.” Monica's mother's gives Jackson a smile of approval as she fans herself playfully. “I think I’m the fortunate one to have captured Monica's heart,” hereplies, looking deeply into her eyes. Monica thinks Mom flat-out swoons at his poetic words, French accent, andgrumbly voice. She was pretty sure she hears her whisper to Jacqueline, “I think we are going to be grandmas soon if he keeps saying things like that.” “Mom!” Monica exclaims aim, flushing brightly in an instant. “Oh, I’m only teasing,” she says. She turns to Jacqueline and Nora. “Has she told you how she struck out from our little town, with nothing but piss and vinegar in her blood and a dream in her heart? I was so worried, but this one . . . you can’t tell her a thing!” Monica's mother goes on to tell Nora and Jacqueline how she had worried about her being in the big city, had waited for her to come home with her tail between her slender legs, and how proud
Most of the models are local to NYC, but she had lamented that her Amour mourning dress was meant for Jeanette and that she was sad she would never get the chance to walk it. So Jackson secretly surprised her by flying Jeanette in to do it. She was not wishing the show away, but she truly can’t wait to see Jeanette strut in that gown. No one can do it justice the way she can. Monica swears, she blinks and the time flies past until she was standing backstage with Jeanette in the voluminous black gown. “Remember, slow. Eyes forward.” Monica demonstrated the defiant gaze she wants on Jeanette to have, tackling the future with strength after the loss of love. “Pose, small smile of hope. Then back like a queen.” “Slow. Strong. Hope. Queen,” she repeats clearly. Her English has gotten much better. Monica's French was improving daily, too, from listening to Jackson. “Tue cette piste, fille,” Monica tells her, snapping her fingers. Jeanette looks at her in surprise. “Oui, I will kill the run
Molly pushes Monica's shoulder. “You would bust ass to get as much done as possible, and then leave to ‘work at home’ or ‘visit the park for inspiration’ and come back the next day with barely anything else done since you left.And you would have a dreamy smile on your face.” Molly makes a vacant-eyed, open-mouthed smiling expression that Jackson thinks is supposed to be what Monica looked like. Jackson did that to her, he thinks cockily. Katarina nods, agreeing. “We thought you had found a French Romeo, and then we saw Jackson wearing the same necklace you had started wearing. It didn’t take much to put one and one together.” Beatrice adds quietly, “We were a bit worried for you, as he has quite the reputation. And it didn’t seem to be helping you in the competition. We weren’t concerned about that until . . .” She trails off, and he knows that his aunt turned that particular screw to get Beatrice to do her bidding. “Okay, so no hard feelings?” Monica asks them all. Molly leans over
“I should have told you,” she whispers back. Monica pushes at him, nearly shoving him out of his chair. “Get up and hug her, or I’m going to have to do it, and I’m not getting snot on her jacket. It’s too fabulous for that.” Jackson gets up to come around the table, and for the first time in he doens't know how long, he enfolds his aunt in a hug. Jackson knows it’s been long enough that he have forgotten how thin she truly is. And he doens't think he have hugged her when he have been taller than she is, even in her power heels. How long ago must it have been since they embraced? It must have beenwhen he was truly a child, before he was a teen growing inches seemingly overnight. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs into his chest. “Me too.” They sit back down, and he looks to Monica, silently asking what she thinks about his aunt’s request for a fashion showplace. They have a conversation consisting solely of raised and lowered eyebrows, pursed lips, and smiles. Finally, Monica turns back to J
She has let that go and is looking toward the future. With Jacqueline, Monica was only concern is him and his little feelings. He squeezes her hand tightly so she knows how much he appreciates her. “Yes, well . . . I guess . . . when I found out that you were gallivanting all over Paris together, I will admit that my first thought was that you’d seduced Jackson to improve your chances in the competition.” Monica points to her own ample chest. “Not a gold digger, just so that’s clear.” Jacqueline nods, accepting that fact now. “At the time, though, it made sense. It wasn’t the first time.” She looks to him for confirmation, and Jackson grunts in agreement. “There was that idea in my mind. But also, if the reverse were true, that Jackson had in fact pursued you” —she flicks her eyes to Monica this time— “I felt like it would be doing you a disservice. I didn’t want you to be distracted by him and miss out on your opportunity, because I know what something like this could mean to a youn
They sit in folding plastic chairs at Jackson's folding plastic table after he closes his laptop. In the awkward silence, Monica can hear the loud buzz of a drill every few seconds as the crew hangs new drywall. “What are you up to, Jacqueline?” Monica was not doing niceties or waiting for her to launch into a practised speech. She wants to throw her off, make sure she knows that they were not under her thumb and have no problem calling out her game play. She has come all the way here to talk about something, after all, so may as well not delay. She presses her lips together in response but gives in. “The reactions to the fashion shows have been quite exciting. Perhaps you have heard?” Monica doesn't look at him, but Jackson stays quiet, and something Jacqueline sees in his expression must give her pause because her nostrils flare. “Or maybe not. But the media buzz has been quite positive. For House Corbin and the designers themselves. Seeing as two of the designers are from America,