Among The Impostors Book Novels & Stories

My mother and Cayden came down and let me know there was something important to talk about, I followed them feeling anxious until they showed me that I was sleeping with an imposter. I didn't believe it because I knew my husband and Omri was Omri, there must have been a mistake. I looked at all the pictures, the properties, the embezzlement, and the proof that even Jared found out and the confirmation from Malkie's blood, it doesn't match with Omri's. I was in denial and total shock, I threw the file away saying, "It is all lies, why would you lie to me," my heart was beating so fast at the revelation, this couldn't be true. I heard the door and Omri walked in but it couldn't be, the beard a

The murmurs turned sharp, slicing. “I feel uneasy.” “I think we should wait for the host.” “Nuella Hale wouldn’t lie about this, would she?” My jaw tightened, but I didn’t move. Not yet. I wanted to see how far she would go with her performance. Nuella turned back to me, her eyes glittering like broken glass, “Tell me, impostor. Do you really think you can fool Capital City? Do you think you can parade around in a borrowed name and get away with it? I, Nuella Hale, will expose you for the fraud you are!”

"I'm just an impostor, a distant relative of the Gomez family." After the young man's confession, Caleb shoved him to the ground and restrained his arms. "You're quite the trickster, aren't you? How dare you parade around and pretend to be me, leaving everyone convinced that I'm the impostor. You've certainly got some nerve."

I want to pull her into my arms so badly, but I know that I can’t. “Viv?” I ask. “Hm?” “Why did you run from me?” Viv finally turns away from the window to face me. “There are imposters,” she says in a whisper. “They take the shape of those you love the most. It’s a trick… I’ve seen them devour souls who have gotten too close thinking that they’re their long lost loves or their children or their parents. I didn’t think that you were real.” Before I can respond, Vivian speaks again.

The one who kissed me like punishment and touched me like I was his only salvation. He comes to me like a shadow, determined and slow. The fake one—Britney—stands beside the marking stone, draped in white. Her eyes burn with triumph. But she’s already lost. She just doesn’t know it yet. He stops in front of me. And I lift my chin. “Come closer,” I whisper. “Just one last time.” He growls under his breath. “You have a death wish, impostor .” “No,” I say, smiling softly. “Just the truth.”

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There had to be some kind of proof of what they were doing, they had to keep records of their findings from the trials they were running on the homeless. I quickly changed into a disguise I had put together—black slacks, a white collared shirt, and a name tag that said "Neil." I had an employee who ran a business making illegal documents for immigrants. He copied MID's barcodes to make me something that could get me in without raising suspicions. I wasn't worried about it not working, he was the best at what he did. I was more worried about somebody recognizing me while I was inside.

If this contract was broken, the price would be paid in blood. She felt no relief when the deal was done. Only more well concealed fear and anxiety. Amberleigh couldn’t help but think the enemy of my enemy was not a friend. It was rather another fucking enemy! And they seemed to be closing in indeed because Grayson had just laid out the fucking welcome mat. Chapter 45

Camilla screamed, her voice cracking. “Don’t raise your voice at me, **imposter**!” Vivian barked, glaring daggers at Camilla. The room fell into silence. **The only sound was** Camilla’s heavy breathing. She glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins—they both looked terrified. **So did Holly’s family.** She could feel Holly trembling **inside**, but she looked okay **on the outside.** She was scared; Camilla knew it. “It is me you want. Let everybody go, **and** I will let you have me,” Camilla said.

What kind of game is this? “Answer him,” Cassian chimed in, his tone smug, his eyes gleaming. “What do you mean?” I asked Mr. Everhart, tilting my head in confusion, my best impression of a wounded socialite. “You’re an impostor,” Cassian snapped, leaning forward. “You’re not the Aria we know. So where is the real Aria?” Impostor. The word hit like a slap. How the hell did he find out? I felt the heat rise under my skin, but my face stayed cool, a perfect mask. As far as I knew, there was no proof. If there was no proof, there was no crime.