A Match Made In Lies Novels & Stories

“This is your last chance. Tell me the truth, or I swear, you’ll regret it.” Her lips tremble, and for a second, it looks like she’ll stick to her lies. But then, she crumbles, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I only gave it to you once. Just once, when I came back to the pack months ago. Besides, it was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” I can feel she is lying. I can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, disgust crawling up my spine. “You’re telling me I divorced my fated mate and lost my Liam, all because of a love potion? You call that an accident?”

They even dared each other to try out the massage chairs in the middle of the walkway. As they sat side by side, letting the mechanical rollers knead away the tension in their shoulders, India turned to Vanessa with a sly smile. “You know, we’re pretty good at this partnership thing. Maybe when this is all over, we should go into business together. Professional matchmakers.” Vanessa snorted. “I don’t know if the world is ready for that much chaos.” “Fair enough. But I do think we’ve got a shot at pulling this off. Between your charm and beauty, and my cunning, they won’t know what hit them.”

I wanted him to believe that I’d secure another guy for Emma if he didn’t act quickly. To further solidify my plan, Liam played his part perfectly, spinning a tale of how I found the perfect girl for him through the dating site. He shared how they had fallen in love at first sight, which added credibility to my matchmaking skills in the eyes of Justin. I made him believe that Emma is not giving up on finding love and I intend to keep searching for the right guy for her if he doesn’t step up and get the love of his life.

“Not even close.” “I wasn’t about to indulge in this nonsense, not when I had to make it back to the one I truly loved.” “He’s lying!” the woman screeched, her shrill voice making my ears ring. “Look at him, muscular, pretty face. He’s exactly my type! I know he’s my mate!” I let out a dry laugh, leaning slightly into Damon, who had stepped up beside me. “This is really funny, lady,” I said, eyeing her. “I didn’t realize mate bonds worked based on who fits your type. And for the record, I don’t even swing your way.”

"We've already confirmed with the hospital. The injured party is Rose Jenkins, female, 12 weeks pregnant. Due to severe impact, the pregnancy was lost. What else do you have to say?" I let out a small laugh. "The hospital? Which doctor ran that exam? Bring them here. Let's talk face-to-face. I've said it already. Rose is a man. There's no fetus in there. Just a silicone implant and a bag of red ink." That made them pause. They probably hadn't seen a suspect this stubborn before. One of the male officers slammed his hand on the table. "You still won't admit what you did? The surveillance footage, your coworkers' statements, the hospital report, everything points to you! You think making thing

He looked at my father and gave Dave a very hard look, then walked out. “What are you doing here?” “That's not how you speak to your husband, Rhea.” My father's voice was calm. I sat up straighter, ignoring the pain shooting through my ribs. “I don't know what he told you, but it's all lies. Every word…” “I know everything.” He cut me off. “The surrogate. The ex-girlfriend. The donor eggs due to your medical complications. Which part is the lie?” My mouth opened in disbelief. “You…you can't actually think this is okay.”

I tilt into him, one hand on his chest, gazing up like he's my entire world. Flash. Flash. Flash. Each one feels like evidence of my complicity. "Tell us," the reporter gushes, "what's the secret to your whirlwind romance? You two went from strangers to married in a few months!" Lucien's smile is perfect, warm, completely fabricated. "The moment I saw Mara, I knew." His voice carries just the right note of wonder. "She was serving at a charity event—so focused, so determined. When she accidentally spilled champagne near me, our eyes met and everything just... stopped."

“We’ll talk later. Go make the soup. “I’ll buy you more of the ingredients. Just hurry, Clara just gave birth, she’s weak. Don’t keep her waiting.” He had completely forgotten that Sophie and Clara gave birth on the same day. That her body was just as weak. Sophie swallowed the bitterness rising in her chest and turned toward the kitchen. The coal stove took too long to catch. Daniel’s restless pacing behind her beat against her nerves, so she poured a little kerosene into the stove to speed things up. The moment she struck the match and brought it close… Boom! The flames exploded outward. The blast knocked her off her feet, her head slamming hard against the wall.

"You're marrying one, aren't you?" I paused. Just a blink. But it was enough. Then I smiled again. Smaller. Wistful. "Yes. Yes, I am." They stayed a little longer, filling the room with stories about school, exaggerated tales of cafeteria brawls and science fair sabotage. Lawrence claimed he'd discovered a way to hack his math grades with AI. Mark swore up and down he had a crush on someone named Naomi, and Lawrence rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out.

"Ballsy or stupid? Jury's out. Coffee? Lucian's in a meeting, but he'll be back soon." "Sure," I said, following her to the kitchen. Our hands brushed as she handed me a mug—electric. "So, tell me—how'd a girl like you end up in this revenge plot? Sounds like a movie." She leaned on the counter, close enough I caught her scent—vanilla and something wild. "Long story. Cheating groom, mysterious savior... you know the drill. But you? Single fisherman billionaire? What's your type? Spill—I love matchmaking."