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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Unexpected Bride
Scenario:Justin falls in love with Julia and get married
Create my version of this story
Justin
Male Older man with a Chubby belly grey hair wrinkles on skin
Julia Presley
protagonist, female, lead model and organizer of the session, friends with other models, tall with flowing hair, confident and flirtatious
I met Julia the night I fell in love with her.
It was at a party.
My brother Aiden dragged me to it.
It was at a loft in Manhattan, and there were many people there.
I didn’t know any of them, but my brother seemed to, so he was happy.
I wasn’t.
Then I saw her.
She was standing by the window, her hair flowing in the light.
She was tall, and when she turned to me, I saw that her body was amazing.
I felt a jolt below my belt, and I knew right then that I had to make her mine.
I excused myself from my brother and made my way to her.
She looked up at me with a smile on her lips.
"Hi," I said. "My name is Justin."
"Julia," she said, taking my hand in hers.
"I’m friends with your brother."
Oh great, I thought.
My brother had been holding out on me.
"Why didn’t he tell me about you?"
She laughed, and it was music to my ears.
"I guess he wanted to surprise you."
I didn’t care why he hadn’t told me about her.
I was just glad that he had.
If he hadn’t brought me to this party tonight, I never would have met her.
We talked some more, and after the party, I offered her a ride home.
I guided her through the crowded loft, my hand hovering near the small of her back.
We made our way to the exit, and just as we reached it, the elevator dinged.
The doors opened, and we stepped inside.
We were alone in the elevator, and I could feel her standing close beside me.
I caught whiffs of her perfume.
It was floral and expensive.
I wondered what it was called.
We got out on the ground floor, and I led her through the parking garage to my black BMW.
I opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in gracefully.
I walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
I started the engine, and she gave me her address in the Upper East Side.
I pulled out of the garage and into traffic.
The drive was quiet, except for the soft jazz playing on the radio.
As we reached her building, she turned to me with a look that promised more than just a goodbye.
My heart raced as I pulled the BMW over and parked.
I turned to her, stealing a glance at her elegant profile.
She opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
I followed her, watching as she walked toward the building.
The lobby was marble, with a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
A doorman stood behind a desk, watching us as we walked in.
Julia gave him a quick smile and continued on.
I followed her to the elevator bank, where she inserted a key card into one of the elevators.
The doors opened immediately, and she stepped inside.
I followed, standing closer than necessary.
Her shoulder brushed mine as she pressed the button for the twentieth floor.
The doors closed, and we began to climb.
The ride was quiet, except for the occasional ding as we passed another floor.
We got out on twenty and walked down a hushed hallway to apartment 20B.
Julia fished her keys out of her purse and inserted them into three separate deadbolts.
The door was heavy, and it took some effort to push open. As it swung wide, I stepped inside and looked around.
"This place is incredible," I said, taking in the high ceilings and art-covered walls.
"Thanks," Julia replied, her voice soft. "It's my grandmother's; she left it to me when she disappeared."
"Disappeared?" I asked, surprised. "What happened to her?"
Julia shrugged, walking over to a bar set up in the corner of the room.
She poured us each a glass of red wine from an expensive-looking bottle.
The apartment was decorated with antique furniture and old family photos.
I settled onto a plush leather couch, taking my glass of wine with me.
Julia sat down beside me, her leg brushing mine.
She traced her finger around the rim of her glass, staring off into space.
"She just disappeared," she said finally.
"It was three years ago. She went out for her morning walk in Central Park, but she never came home."
"What did the police do?"
I asked, taking a sip of my wine.
"They looked for her, but they didn’t find anything. No body, no signs of struggle. Nothing."
"What about this apartment?"
I asked, looking around at the expensive furniture and artwork.
"Was it like this when you got here?"
Julia nodded, taking a long sip of her wine.
"Everything was exactly as she left it," Julia said, her voice tinged with a mix of sadness and mystery.
"It's like she just vanished into thin air, leaving behind all these memories."
I leaned forward, intrigued. "Do you think there's more to her disappearance than what the police found?"
As she spoke, Julia shifted closer to me on the leather couch.
Her thigh pressed against mine, and I could feel the warmth of her body through my pants.
The wine had left a slight flush on her cheeks, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim lighting.
She set her glass down on an antique coffee table in front of us and turned to face me.
Her hand brushed my arm, sending electricity through my body.
The leather creaked as she shifted her weight, and I caught another whiff of her floral perfume.
It was stronger now that we were sitting so close, and it filled my senses.
My heart raced as she leaned forward, her long hair brushing against my shoulder.
"There's something else," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"My grandmother left a note hidden in one of the books, and it mentioned someone named 'Eleanor'."
"Eleanor?" I asked, intrigued. "Do you know who that is?"
Julia's eyes locked with mine, and her fingers traced patterns on my arm.
The wine had made my head a little fuzzy, and the proximity of her body wasn't helping.
She leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear.
"It's a name that comes up a lot in our family history," she said.
"Especially in relation to my grandmother."
"What do you mean?"
I asked, turning so that our faces were inches apart.
Julia picked up her phone from the coffee table and began scrolling through some old photos.
"These are from parties back in the 80s," she said, stopping at one particular image.
"That's my grandmother. Do you see the woman in the background?"
I leaned closer, studying the photo.
A woman in a red dress was watching Julia's grandmother intently, her eyes narrowed into a glare.
"Who is she?"
I asked.
"Eleanor," Julia whispered, her voice filled with mystery.
She swiped through more photos, pointing out Eleanor in the background of each one. I felt a little lightheaded from the wine and Julia's proximity, and I reached for my glass to steady myself.
As I did, Julia lost her balance and stumbled forward, catching herself by gripping my shoulder.
We were face to face now, our lips only inches apart.
Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers.
Julia pulled back slightly, her eyes wide with surprise but not displeasure.
"Sorry," I murmured, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "That was... unexpected."
She smiled softly, her fingers still resting on my shoulder.
