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My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 64 A touch of love
Monica reaches up touching Julien's face and pulls his eyes up to meet hers. "Julien, honey, I’m still marrying you. There is nothing in this world that could stop me from wanting to marry you. I can’t wear my ring because it’s just too big, it’s not practical. I have to put gloves on and off all day, I won’t be able to do that with the ring on.” Although Julien feels like a weight has been lifted knowing she’s not leaving, he still doesn't like the thought of her walking around without the fucking ring on her finger. He wants the world to know she’s taken and taken by him. There’s also the fact that that particular ring has a GPS tracker in it. Julien knows, not his finest moment putting a tracker on her fiancée, but given the circumstances he thinks if he ever had to actually use it, he won’t regret putting it there. She of course does not know that her ring has this extra feature. There is no way Julien is letting her walk out of this apartment without that ring on her. Standing u
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 65 true lovebirds
“Come on lovebirds, I have somewhere I need to be. Ican’t hold this button forever you know,” Bray calls out from inside the lift. Laughing at him, Monica pulls away and walks into the lift. As the doors close, an unsettling feeling returns to Julien's gut. He tries to shake it off as separation anxiety. That’s all it is, he haven’t been separated from her for over three weeks now. She’s safe at the bar, there is security everywhere there to protect the staff and the bidders. Looking at the clock again, Julien notes it’s just nearing one o’clock. He has been at the club for the last three hours going over everything they can have on Catalina. There’s nothing giving any whereabouts to where she could be now, and it’s pissing him the fuck off. The foreboding feeling that he have in the pit of his stomach hasn’t left him all day. Something isn’t right, they were missing something, he just don’t know what. Julien has been texting Monica all morning, and now and then she will send a br
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 66 the mischief
Monica's head was pounding, she reaches up to touch her forehead and find her movements restricted. Her hands were tied with rope. What the hell? Trying to look around, it’s dark, she was in a small cramped space, she was in a goddamn car boot. Closing her eyes, she tries to keep her breathing even and recall how she got here. She remembers being at work, she was serving snacks to an elderly patient. She remembers an orderly entering the room and that’s it. But she can’t remember anything else. She just need to breathe, stay calm. As much as she wants to scream out, she knows she needs to stay calm. The longer whoever put her here thinks she is still out of it, the longer Julien has to realise that she was missing and start searching. Oh god, the thought of Julien brings tears to her eyes. This is meant to be the start of their forever. What if they don’t get a forever? What if this morning was the last time she would get to kiss him? Hug him? She should have listened to him, she
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 67 she is okay
A man dressed in black stops and squats down in front of Monica. "Monica, it’s okay. There’s an ambulance on the way. Just hold on, okay?” he says as he cuts her wrist free from the rope. She doesn't know who this man is. She doesn't know how he knows her name, but right now she doesn't care. "Julien, I … I …I need Julien,” she pleads with whoever this stranger is. “He’s going to meet you at the hospital, it’s okay. You’re safe now." She hears the sirens getting closer and she lets go. Closing her eyes she gives in to the darkness and let it take over her. Beep, Beep, Beep. Oh god, someone shut off the damn alarm. The noise continues, her eyes flutters open slowly and she takes in her surroundings. The smell of antiseptic, the beeps of machines, the chill in the air. She knows that she is in the hospital. Confusion wrapsaround her brain. Is she at work? Why is her head pounding? She attempts to lift her arm but a burning pain pauses her movement. “Argh,” she groans out loud. “Sunsh
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 68 Monica is pregnant
The doctor continues, “my guess is it's early, the scan willtell us more.” Pregnant. Pregnant. She is pregnant. How did this happen? Of course she knows how this happened. She smiles at that thought. Then something lingers in the back of her mind. “Why don’t I remember what happened?” Monica asks the doctor. “You were injected with propofol, you were asleep for most of your ordeal I believe." She nods her head. Well, that explains why she can’t remember anything. “Will that hurt the baby?” she asks the doctor, as she does Julien looks up to the doctor while squeezing her hand. The doctor shakes his head. “No, the baby should be fine. Let’s get the scan done and find out how far along you are,” hesays with a reassuring smile. Monica was about to thank him but before she can, Julien breaks his silence. “Should be? Should be fine is not good enough.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialling someone, looking back down at her briefly before the call connects. “Dean, find the bes
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 69 a new beginning
"Excuse me!” Monica bumps and swerve through the crowd of people also crossing the street with the light, faking left but then, seeing a hole to the right, she dodges that way instead. “Excuse me . . . pardon me . . . coming through, please.” Despite the overly practised manners that would make her small-town mother proud, she gets stuck behind a man in a suit with a phone pressed to hisear. “No, unacceptable. Call him back and tell him to be in my office within the next hour or there’ll be hell to pay,” he says snootily, sounding like the worst thing he’s capable of doing is making someone persona non grata at the country club in Martha’s Vineyard. She was sure the phone call is significant to him, but nothing is as important as her getting to work on time, this morning of all mornings. She doesn't make it a habit of running late, another politeness Mom ingrained in her at an early age—on time is late, early is on time—but today is critical. Her boss, Nora Jacobs, has a video conf
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 70 Julien
"Hey!" Monica says as Julien grunts and says. "Sorry, was in the gym just thought of calling you and saying you that I'm not getting home today. You can have your tune at the shift. And how's Jamie?" His voice made her squeeze her eyes shut. "Ah, he is okay. He is big enough that he doesn't needs his mommy and daddy around. Well, gotta go see you." Saying Monica ends the call. Luckily, the line isn’t too bad this morning and she stands in the back, tapping her foot and wiggling her hips to a tune only she can hear. It basically sounds like ‘hurry,hurry, hurry . . . I need to hurry’ and probably makes me look like I need to pee, but no one pays me any mind. If it’s one thing people in New York City know, it’s to mind your own business. If someone wants to break out into afull-blown tap dance Broadway number, complete with striptease in the middle of the morning coffee rush hour, you keep your head down, not seeing a thing, and your hand on your bag. “Hey, Carrot Top! I’ve got your o
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 71 past
Monica was back into the door, pushing it open with her butt, and joining the morning rush of people on the street once more. She makes it to the corner and go through the glass double doors simply marked Jacobs in a beautiful gold script font. Nora’s storefront has a smallselection of off-the-rack options, but the bulk of her work is through custom designs and the few boutiques she works with directly. Inside, she was hit with a bustle of activity as assistants run back and forth to set up racks in the conference room. “What’s that for?” she asks an intern. “Backdrop scenery for the call. Nora’s early morning, brilliant idea,” he replies, never pausing. In the conference room, Nora’s presence is commanding as she gestures and gives orders to the people scurrying about to do her bidding. At five feet eight in her bare feet—not that many see her that undone—she’s sharplydressed in a white pantsuit with a custom hand-embroidered rose on the lapel of her jacket. It’s her own design, o
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