Monica Gellar Novels & Stories

“Get straight to the point, Monica.” “Well, she's here… Clara Mallon, the representative.” I could smell the jealousy that was laced in her voice. It's always like that with the women I fuck. They never want to let go of me even though I always make it clear that I'm not in for anything serious. “Send her in,” I said calmly. As she closed the door behind her, I turned back to look at Mike who looked like he had a bunch of questions to ask. “What?” “What damn representative is Monica talking about???” He sighed. “We have a million things to handle and somehow you think another investment is what we need?”

BMOM ➭ 159 ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ ARYM ZCHRYNNE “MaiMai” – Monica couldn’t respond to what I said. She just cried silently, seeming calmer now since she wasn’t struggling like earlier. Jasper was determined to press charges against Monica after her personal assistant confessed to the investigators. After sending me those malicious photos, Monica had already planned an attempt on my life and Zanyca’s—just to scare me. She wanted to corner Jasper into going with her in exchange for our freedom.

I said. Monica sat up, wincing as she stretched. "Fuck. My body feels like I ran a marathon." "You did run a marathon," Jade smirked. "Just not the kind with sneakers." Monica laughed gently, shaking her head. "That was–" She paused, searching for words. "That was the best sex of my life, hands down. No competition." Jade raised an eyebrow. "Really?" "Really." Monica looked at both of us, her gaze sincere. "I've had my share of experiences, but nothing… nothing compares to what happened in this room." She paused, her cheeks flushing. "I’m sorry I judged you both quickly. Especially you, Van."

One girl even pointed. “I think they’re talking about me,” Stacey muttered. “They are,” Lily confirmed. “It’s the video. And… Derrick.” Derrick scratched the back of his head. “Ignore them. If I paid attention to everything people said, I’d go insane.” “Too late,” Lily joked. Just then, Monica appeared at the hallway turn, her two minions trailing behind her like shadows. She was dressed in a perfectly pressed uniform and a smug expression. She locked eyes with Stacey, her lips already curling.

Harvey calmly spoke up Before Darwin could tell him the woman’s identity, Harvey replied calmly, “Who are you?” “I’m the mistress of the Nobita family and Jakai’s daughter, Monica Vaus!” Monica glared coldly at Harvey, her words filled with the intent to kill. “Looks like my son was right. You’re the bastard who terrified my father with a badge! After that, you crippled him and ended his life! You’re despicable!”

Killian waited in the center for them to arrive. Monica sat in her room, not sure what to do. She thought about leaving or even ending her life. HSe couldn't take it anymore. Mainly, because she was an omega and omegas never do what she did. How could she live with herself? She had to tell Crystal she was leaving. She went to get up and go find her when there was a knock on her door. She opened it and was shocked to find Crystal on the other side. "Luna?" "Monica. How are you?"

He better not. Releasing Christabel cloth. "The ring looks good on you bitch. I wonder what he sees in you," Monica said bitterly. "I will be back, fool, you can't just have everything," "Monica you don't have the right to call me a fool," Christabel defended herself.

He slammed shut his laptop, left in a daze, and stared into space. Monica arrived at the airport in Atlanta, Georgia. Her last time there was years ago and she realized that things had changed so much. She checked into a hotel and called a few apartments for rent. She was not ready to break her bank account since she only had a few thousand dollars. She hadn't seen the money transferred into her account by Veronica. She got an affordable and presentable apartment, instantly moving in. She turned on her phone and the flood of calls breaking her phone made her realize just how selfish she had been.

Having been absent from the industry for a year, she believed such gatherings required thorough preparation. In the midst of the vibrant crowd, Erin spotted a woman with short, straight black hair cascading down to her shoulders. "Hello! I'm Erin Villaverde!" The woman scrutinized Erin from head to toe. Her expression soured upon observing her. "I'm Monica. So, you're that Erin. Your skin is dry, and you look old because of your eye bags! Don't you use any skincare?" Erin felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Monica's words held a degree of truth, prompting Erin to swallow her pride.

I called, “half an hour to show time.” “Thanks, Charlie,” Monica said, as she shimmied between me and the door frame. Her long bare legs made short work of the red room floor—we preferred red instead of green like in theater—as she strode toward her vanity and took a seat. The fishnet stockings she had on were dotted with glittering crystals at every cross section. I’d been eyeing them for weeks considering buying myself a pair, but the good ones cost upward of a couple hundred dollars. The money she earned during her routines made purchases like that no big deal to her. Monica was my highest grossing dancer. She’d been stripping here at Ascension since I first started as a dancer. She and I