1 | Monique-s Secret Spa- Part

Monique smiled. It was a small, sad curve of the lips—the kind of smile a mother might give a child who has just woken from a nightmare. “I know the names of everyone who finds my door. Do you want to know why that is?”

Monique finally turned. She wasn't the ethereal, white-robed aesthetician Julian had expected. She wore a heavy leather apron over a sharp black turtleneck, her silver hair pulled back so tight it looked painful. Her skin was flawless—not just smooth, but translucent, like polished marble. monique-s secret spa- part 1

Monique pinched the bridge of her nose. "Right. I'll handle it. Prepare the extraction room just in case. And Barnaby?" Monique smiled