A Match Made In Lies Novels & Stories

He’s using my sister to wash the taste of me out of his mouth. "Look at them," my father said, appearing at my elbow. He sounded satisfied. "The press is eating it up. 'The Captain and the Contessa.' It’s a fairy tale." "It’s a lie, Father," I muttered. "Everything is a lie, Alessandro. Success is just a lie that people believe in long enough for it to become true." He patted my back. "Go stand closer to them. The 'Best Man' needs to be in the background of the main shot."

"That's a conversation for another day. Come on. We still have work to do." We spent the rest of the afternoon going over potential scenarios. What if someone asked how we met? What if they asked about our first date? Our first kiss? "We need a story," Alexander said. "A believable one. Here's what we're going with: We met at your grandfather's memorial. You spilled champagne on me." "That actually happened," I said. "Exactly. The best lies are rooted in truth. We talked on the balcony. Connected over shared experiences with loss. I asked for your number. We went to dinner the next week."

To say the least, I was skeptical about the speed. When I opened his profile, I was surprised by the quality of the match. Both of us were Cancers (the sign, not the disease), we both liked hockey, we were both fitness fanatics, and we were both into older rock bands like Fleetwood Mac. We were perfect for each other, almost to the last detail. “He seems almost too perfect,” I said to Lily as we cleaned up the dishes for ladies’ night. “He must be a bot that the software made up based on my profile—”

A sequence of code, numbers, lines I couldn’t give a fuck about, except for the name flashing beside them. Capone—Adriano. 99.9% probability paternal match. For a moment, the world stilled. I thought I was hallucinating. Then the world detonated. My blood roared hot, molten, a violent flood that rattled my teeth. My chest caved in, lungs collapsing, vision blurring red at the edges. “No,” I whispered, but the sound was hollow. “No. She said—” The memory of Madeleine’s face when she told me she’d aborted ripping through me. She lied. She fucking lied.

She felt so happy to hear it, but… “You are lying,” she whispered, with tears on her cheeks, “You told me you were waiting for your mate. How could you love me?” “Because you are my mate,” Ragnar said. He had had enough of those disguises and fakes. “I knew you are from the moment I saw you, L,” he said, “And I have been in love with you since that very second.” Elena heard her heart pounding. That was such an unexpected answer, but it was so sweet and amazing. She felt her face burn.

She turned back and walked towards Kyle, she looked at him before looking at me, with a glare "No one will ever love you, you will never get a man as good as Kyle. You are pathetic Tara, sorry to say but no one likes a girl who keeps secrets from her boyfriend." Damn, she always gets me, I hate the fact she always gets to my head. She turned back and was about to leave when I stop her, I walked towards her and stood right in front of her, staring into her eyes "For your kind information Maria, you are the pathetic one, not me, if I remember clearly, Kyle didn’t cheat on me, actually, we were playing each other." I said before I looked at Kyle. It hurts me to lie but I have no other choice, I

“Definitely! You made a statement! So how was it? Are you and Dominic actually cool now?” Maeve shrugged her shoulders carelessly. “Sure, we can say that,” she lied. They were definitely not cool. The man practically followed her into the bathroom like a fucking creep to threaten her. Nope, not cool at all. As the image of Dominic towering over her and glaring down at her flashed through Maeve’s head, she immediately remembered how she felt, how she was suddenly feeling again – hot and bothered. It seemed as though he was this close to leaning down and kissing her in the bathroom. The image of Dominic kissing flashed through her head again, slamming his mouth against hers. Okay, what the act

Expressing her excitement about Friday. All lies, of course. But that was fine. I’d been lying too. Two liars circling each other. But I held all the cards. I always win in the end. Always.

The challenge was simple: match 100% with someone else on the app, and the first two couples would win an all-expenses-paid trip to a luxurious island. Guests scrambled to d******d the app, their phones lighting up as they created their profiles. Laughter filled the room as people joked about how they were "so not ready for the matchmaking process," but the competitive energy was palpable. Maria watched as people furiously swiped left and right, creating profiles and hoping for a match. After a few minutes, two couples erupted in cheers, their phones showing the coveted 100% match. The speaker, with a grin, announced their victory, and the lucky couples were given their golden tickets for th

With no chance, I placed my hand in his and the little girl pulled us by the fire. Jordan and Lia were also dancing and though it was something native to them, we tried our best to match the step. Asher just stood there and clapped as the women showed me the steps. It was complicated as fuck but I tried my best. I glanced up at my mate and he was silently watching me. “The way he looks at you says a lot,” Lia distracted me. “Sorry?” I muttered, trying to keep up with the music. “He’s obviously a man crazy in love,” she said. “You two look perfect together. Match made in heaven.” I gave her a smile in response.