Is Genuine Fraud Novel Available As A PDF?

Willow Creed always put her career before any relationships but found that the road to building your career could be a lonely one. When her editor suggests that she write a believable romance story, Willow is at a loss for words, especially since she's so jaded about the topic of romance. After hearing Willow complain to her best friend about her situation with her editor, Reid Grayson proposes that they enter into a fake relationship under two conditions: she attends his brother's wedding as his date to get his family off his back about finding someone special, and they are not to fall in love with one another. Willow knows that she would never fall for the arrogant and rude Reid Grayson, so she agrees. Will both of them be able to keep to the conditions set in place when Reid is hiding a secret that could potentially break her? **This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.**

The first time I meet Solana Charvet's childhood friend, Tyson Hatch, he claims that he's the best fraud buster ever. At the dining table, he keeps lecturing me. "Men shouldn't overdress, you know. If not for the fact that Solana actually told me that you're her boyfriend, I'd definitely group you up with the gigolos together." Solana keeps agreeing with everything Tyson says. "You're far too flashy when it comes to your fashion sense. Just listen to Tyson and change your habits, yeah?" I can't be bothered to listen to a word Tyson says, so I come up with an excuse to use the toilet. But on the way back, I hear Tyson giving Solana his verdict as a fraud buster. "Solana, Charles' posture and the way he speaks are all clear indicators that he's a fake heir who has undergone training. He intends to get close to you for your money, you know! "That watch he's wearing? And the sports car that's worth over a million dollars? How is it possible for a doctor like him to afford all these things?" Fury burns in my gut. I can no longer tolerate Tyson's nonsense, so I dial my mom's number right away. Right, have I mentioned that my mom's the richest woman in the country? "Mom, give me five million dollars right now. I want to buy an agency that specializes in fraud busting and teach a certain someone a lesson!"

I'm bound to a rebound system by nature. Everyone who has come up with rumors about me will receive backlash in return. When I was in high school, a male classmate had spread rumors about me being a prostitute who had intimate relations with a few old men. That very same day, he was taken away by a dozen or so old men and was modified into a gigolo himself. When I was in college, my boyfriend's childhood friend spread rumors about me being the female lead in porno videos. That night, all of the available porno videos on the Internet featured her as the female lead. Since then, no one dares to gossip about me. That is, until I'm reunited with the wealthy Hartley family, which happens to be my biological family. The fake heiress, Claire Hartley, takes my hand while adopting a friendly expression. "Hey Amanda, I heard that you got pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a murderer's child. Now that you're back, why didn't you bring the baby home with you? "We're a family, after all. We won't look down on you."

On my very first day studying abroad, my mom brought her real son back home. Within two years, he had won over every single person in the family. By the time I came back, she tossed a signed disownment agreement in my face. "To be honest, I've always thought you were pretty selfish. All you care about is money. You refuse to hand over control of the company, and you never show any real concern for us as parents. Thank God my real son isn't that cold-blooded. So do the right thing—hand over your shares and walk away from this family on your own." She stood there waiting for me to break down, to beg her to let me stay. But I just let out a quiet sigh and pulled out a DNA test linking me to my grandfather—her father. "Mom, I'm not your biological son—that much is true. But I am the biological grandson of the man who actually runs the Harrison family. The one who should be leaving the Harrison family isn't me—it's you."

A week before the college entrance exam, my twin brother, Tristan Doyle, runs away with a delinquent. Our parents abandon their massive corporate empire and set out to search for him. I intend to join the search, but a comment abruptly flashes across my vision. "Don't go, Ryan! If you skip the exam too, your family is doomed!" With no other choice, I shoulder the pressure and walk into the exam hall alone. Yet the moment the exams end, my parents return and lock me in the basement. Ten years later, I finally escape, only to discover that Tristan has stolen my identity. He's celebrated as that year's top scorer, gets a degree from a prestigious university, and is even married to my former high-achieving girlfriend, Alisha Hudson. They share a perfect life with two children. Furious, I attempt to confront them, but they bind me and throw me back into the basement. As I howl in rage, my parents reprimand me, "Tristan was never as smart as you, and that delinquent tricked him into running away. There was no way he could've gotten into college on his own." "You're his older brother. What's wrong with letting him have one thing? Stop being so selfish." I break down completely and die in despair. Only after my death do I learn that Tristan was the one who sent that comment. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Tristan elopes with the delinquent. The comment appears once more. As I stand there frozen, Alisha gently nudges me with a smile. "Go study! Your whole family's counting on you."

The Lombardos' long-lost son turned out to be some "scam-busting" influencer. He stormed into the company with my fiancée, cut me off mid–quarterly report, pointed straight at me, and went live. "Drop a comment if you're watching. Blow this up. I'm exposing a fake heir who stole someone else's life!" His crew dragged me offstage, ripped my suit, and shoved me into a neon vest stamped with "FAKE." "A fake's always fake. Never real. I'm ripping off your mask. If you're smart, get on your knees, hand over the CEO seat, and get lost!" I glanced at his parents—faces drained—and gave him one warning. "You don't get to call me a fraud. For their sake, apologize now, and I'll let it go." The room buzzed. Everyone thought I'd snapped, waiting for the "fake heir" to crash and burn. They had no clue. I wasn't the fake. I was the one the whole family answered to.