Hetalia Monaco Novels & Stories

*** Caelen POV Monaco was exactly as I remembered it and nothing like I remembered it. The harbor, the hills, the way the buildings stacked themselves up against the sky like they were competing for space. The circuit barriers are going up in the streets below the hotel, transforming a city into a track the way only Monaco could, making the whole place feel like it was holding its breath for something. The first time I came here, I cried in the car and thought I was hiding it. The first time I came here, we were still pretending. We weren't pretending anything now.

I knew she was close and I began to go a little faster chasing my own release. “Oh my god Ivan…” she screamed out flooding my dick with her juice. I kissed her collarbone and almost went crazy when my mouth landed on the her marking spot. My cannies were out, I tried to calm my wolf as I wasn’t sure Monna was ready yet but Leon was way out of control. “Pleaseee” Monna moaned under me “What baby?” I asked confused “Mark me Ivan… my wolf is going crazy” That was all I needed.. I kissed the spot a few minutes readying it for my my mark of ownership.

Kir Monaco is a sun-bleached monument to terrible people with excellent credit. I stand on the stone terrace of the rented villa, looking down at the harbor. It’s a glittering, obscene display of yachts the size of office buildings and water so violently blue it hurts the eyes. The whole micro-state is designed for men who traffic in human misery to drink thousand-dollar champagne and pretend the rules don't apply to them. I’m self-aware enough to know that in any given conversation, I don’t have the moral high-ground, but I still feel like I’m better than them.

“It is a purebred Arabic, her name is Scarlett. She is a female.” “Oh,” Daniel was amazed by the horse's majestic beauty. “I honestly prefer males, but a female is not bad either.” He smirked, looking at Andry who seemed to get the message. “Do you need some help?” Daniel nodded and Andry offered his hand to him. He held him until he got on Scarlett but the older didn't let go of his hand. “Your Majesty?” “Please ride with me, will you?” Daniel asked gently. “With pleasure,” Andry bowed. “I will bring my horse.” He said before returning with a beautiful white Andalusian horse.

But darkness was where I learned to see now. While Katie was at her afternoon play therapy session, a new routine to help her adjust to her "big life changes," I sat in the library with my laptop. I typed a single word into a private browser window. Monaco. The results were a flood of glittering travelogues and yacht races. I added a year. 2012. The images shifted to parties, paparazzi shots of a younger, harder Louis, his eyes glassy with a boredom that looked like contempt. I scrolled past images of celebrities and socialites.

Caleb’s grip tightened on the phone. Across the room, Jonathan Monroe stopped pacing, his sharp eyes narrowing. “What happened?” Caleb asked, voice clipped and low. Miss Jones—his ever-efficient, never-rattled executive secretary—let out a frustrated breath. “There’s a diplomatic issue. The Monaco delegation dropped out of the virtual summit... ten minutes in.” Caleb frowned. “That’s it?” “They were offended by your virtual background during the opening remarks. The artwork displayed behind you—it triggered political tension. Apparently, the AI-generated image resembled an old sovereignty emblem banned in their region.”

Dominic was standing there and the second his eyes landed on me, his jaw dropped. "Angel. You look beautiful." Dominic said in awe before stepping in and grabbing me by the waist. I smiled and pulled him down for a peck without thinking. I froze when I realised that kissing Dominic non-sexually and platonically was crossing the invisible line. Although, he didn't seem to mind it at all.

“No, I’m glad that I get this chance,” Monica tells them. “Really. I want to learn about all of Paris . . . and Jackson.” They hoot at that, teasing Jackson in French that no one translates, but it must be good because Jackson blushes slightly. The tallest of the boys looks at her with keen interest. “You are . . . most beautiful woman I see.” The compliment is delivered haltingly as he translates in his mind. But he also seems intense, his dark eyes almost diving into Monica's soul. “Aww, thanks. What is your name?” “Jamaica ,” he says, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles much the same as Jackson did. Monica wonders if Jackson is teaching them some of his charm too. “You have made my d

Lady Monica hurryingly added, "One of them mentioned something interesting though," "And what is it?" Alec crossed his arms. Lady Monica looked around and whispered, "They had a mark on their forearm. Something that looks like a large bird, perhaps an eagle," Alec frowned and rubbed his chin. Kenneth had no mark on his body—besides his scars. "Have you ever seen such a mark on the king?" Lady Monica asked, and Alec's cheeks burned as her question might also mean if he ever saw his naked body. Alec cleared his throat in embarrassment and mumbled no.