Zion Girlfriend Novels & Stories

The liquid pooled on the floor before she snapped out of her trance. Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and typed "Jonathan fiancee" into the search bar. Soon, various news articles appeared on her screen. [Jonathan Sinclair's Mysterious Fiancee Spotted at Jorundale Airport] [Jonathan's Fiancee Is a Local Woman Returning From Overseas] Kylie clicked through the articles, all of which were dated on the same day as her birthday. And then she saw the picture of Jonathan's fiancee. Her name was Zoey Whitfield, and she was a woman of mixed heritage.

she begged, and I sighed and asked her calmly, "Have you found your mate? What happens when you find him?" "I will reject him," she replied swiftly, as if she didn't want to be mated to anyone else except me. Zoey was beautiful, endowed, and curvy. She passed the Luna test, and my mother liked her, but Zion didn't like her. He felt on edge around her, like she was pretending to be nice on the surface, but deep in her heart, she had ulterior motives. You know, like a two-faced person.

Pain slammed through her and shocked as Zion stepped into the room. “You better get the fuck away from my girlfriend.” “Come on, Zion. This has gone on long enough. No one believes she’s really your girlfriend. It’s getting a little boring now.” Maya got to her feet, but before she did, Zion helped her up. He held her hand, stroking her cheek. “Did she hurt you?” “I’m fine.” She didn’t dare look at him as she lied. Cheryl had hurt her. “You touch her again and you’ll regret it,” Zion said, looking at Cheryl. “I will make sure your life is so damn hard you won’t know what fucking hit you.”

I smirk, leaning back from her a bit, but before I can give her a suitable retort, a voice cuts in sweet and cool. “This is a ladies’ room, not a war zone, please.” We turn around, and Zaina Washington is standing by the door, hands on her hips, looking gorgeous in a light blue ball gown. “Hi, Zaina,” I say, facing her with a smile. “Hello, Luna. You know you owe me a phone call,” she adds as she walks towards me, her eyes moving briefly to Marjorie and Geena. “Ladies, I thought we all left this kind of childish habit in high school?”

Qiffdiya asks. "Nop. This is Yaya Zulqanayn's girlfriend." Qiffdiya's eyes fly open. "She's here, already. But no one told me she's coming. I probably stink. God let me go and bath then I'll introduce myself." Qiffdiya rushes upstairs with her veil serving as a train for her. "That's Yaya Mariya, but we call her Yaya Qiffdiya. She's a model and a brand influencer." Hassana says.

“She defies me openly, us. She chooses a lesser wolf in my place; she does this in my face, a cruel jokester! What am I supposed to do?” “Ah, but is she not simply playing the game by the rules you made?” Movement in the headquarters' eastern section draws my attention—figures visible through windows partially obscured by rainfall, yet distinct enough to confirm Siena and Zion have relocated to her private office. Rather than remaining in common areas where settlement residents or council observers might overhear conversation, she maintains an intimacy with him. Does she love him? Zion is full of lies, of ego. He wants only what makes his life the better. I know she thinks he supports her…

Not real girlfriend but a girl that he always hook up with Zac Zac.. I'm so going to friendzone you

But now that I spoke about it, these are part of the things that made me attracted to her, the fact that she just live her life without trying to impress or check if others see or approve of what she’s doing. “What did you want me to do Zain? Will you kill me here? Blowing such a trumpet in her garage! Why didn’t you tell me when we are far away from here? That’s unfair!” “Did you even know what this means? Saying you love a woman after that goat, a she goat to be precise.” I laughed when Fiona called Zara a goat, my conscience and soul agreeing with the name she gave her this time, everytime Fiona finds a different name for Zara and it’s always fun to hear.

Not anymore. Zoe sighed, pushing aside the thoughts that threatened to linger. She had a job—a real one. She wasn’t just Adonis Walter’s contract wife. She was Zoe Powers, a five-star therapist. Reaching for her phone, she decided that if this so-called honeymoon was already a disaster, she might as well get back to work. She scrolled through her messages, checking for new clients. Most were familiar—high-profile names she had worked with before or new referrals. But one stood out.

said Zoey, "I was looking through photos of Boumerank shows in Brazil and the United States. She was always with you. I'm sure she's your girlfriend." "Why are you so curious?" I asked. "I don't know," Zoey said, "female instinct." "And what is it?" I asked. "Usually women always want to be the number one," Zoey said. “But I realized my position. I'm just a prostitute who should be grateful to have been released." "You're not a whore anymore," I said. “After being free from here, you are a free person.” "I'm afraid I can't do it alone," Zoey said, "I've never been far from Saltyville. I don't know the people of Surabaya."