Novel & Cerita The One With The Fake Monica

I'd probably be dead by now. "So, have fun girl." Courtney said with a perky attitude. "With the fake couple thing, I mean." "I won't, but no one can know about the fake part. Alright?" I told her. "Of course." She nodded. .

I let out a long yawn and slowly close my eyes, allowing myself to drift into a much-needed rest. When I open my eyes again, I'm in front of crowds. People were waving and jubilating. They seem so happy to see me. Just then, the door to my right opened and Maya walks up. My heart pounds furiously in my chest as I notice people starting to take an interest. Maya points an accusing finger at me, shouting, “I’m Maya, she’s the imposter!” I retreat slowly, feeling my heartbeat escalate beyond its normal rhythm. Suddenly, my phone rings, and I turn to see Petal holding it, glaring at me with intense eyes.

None of those women can compare to her natural beauty. "You are more beautiful than all the women in every herd. They are all the same, tall, and fake. They're more human than anything with how they dye their hair, get breast enhancements, and all the other fake stuff I can't think about. They assume that's what men want. Maybe some do, but not me. I prefer natural beauty. Who wants something fake when you can have something real with meaning?" Monica looks up at me and smiles slightly.

“What do you have in mind?” He gives me a crooked smile back. “How about sending some fake info about a ‘new’ liquor which doesn’t have the bitter taste of alcohol and has even stronger effects on werewolves? Downing one glass, and the werewolf is knocked on his/her butt. What do you think?” A new secret liquor. Very interesting. I like it. I nod my head. “That sounds good. How are you going to ‘leak’ it to the rogue pack?”

“Whatever, voracious monster.” I spare a quick glance outside the window once Juno was out of sight. Monica was leaning discreetly on a waiting shed not too far from the restaurant. A camera was on her hand and she glared at me when our gazes met. I chuckled silently before showing a thumbs up to her. Monica rolled her eyes before stepping out of the waiting shed to retreat back in our company building. Step one - success! On our way here, I secretly texted Monica to follow us to steal a few shots from us. I then instructed her to create a dummy account to spread the photos on the internet with a malicious caption. That way, everyone would be curious and suspicious of my dating life.

She curiously asked. "Eddy James," Monica said what came to her mind. "Good. Any reference?" Gertrude asked. "Yes, I will open a fake website and send the l**k to you," Monica explained and continued. "I will transfer the money to his account for him to transfer it into the Norman Holdings Investor account." Gertrude was a bit skeptical. "Monica, are you sure about this? What if Sly doesn't take you back? I think this is extreme. You are giving him your life's hard work," Gertrude tried to discourage her. "I know, but It's worth it," Monica said frantically.

I asked, intrigued. "They think I sent those shooters after Anthony to get his property because he willed everything to me. They won't let me have it, and no matter how many lawyers I call, none are willing to work with me," Monica explained, desperation etched on her face. I raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you want me to do?" Monica's request caught me off guard. "I need you to be my fake husband.” I was taken aback by her request. “Your fake husband? What are you talking about, Monica?"

I asked in disbelief. "Yes, Luna," she answered and led me to another corner. "B- but you were reported to be dead, you committed suicide," I stuttered, finding it hard to believe. Could she be a ghost? Ghosts are not real, or are they? Even if ghosts were real, why would Monica come to me? I didn't harm her in any way, I was in fact trying to help her. "I faked my death," Monica told me. "You faked your death, how? Why?" I bombarded her with questions.

“Will you help me?” I begged my childhood friend, Matteo Russo. “Right now, you’re the only person who can stand against Elijah. If you help me, I can fake my death and leave.” Matteo is the Don of the largest mafia family in Sinticily. To him, staging a fake death through an accident would be effortless. However, instead of answering, he asked, “Hazel, are you really willing to give up everything? Five years of marriage, and your son, who has always adored you. Once you fake your death, you’ll lose it all.”

Below it, a face flashed in high resolution. Sharp, aristocratic jawline. Slicked-back black hair. Cold, dead eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses. Damian Vance. A cold chuckle erupted from the tablet’s speaker, a voice untouched by any electronic modulator this time. "Four years, Lydia," Damian’s smooth, predatory voice echoed through the empty, rotting warehouse. "Did you really think a pathetic placeholder like Julian Miller could keep you from me? I let you play house. I let you pretend. But the game is over."