Cheating Liar Novels & Stories

Before my wedding, my fiance's secretary dumped out all the Dom Perignon champagne I had ordered for the guests and replaced it with Yoo-hoo. I turned grim instantly and demanded an explanation. But my fiance—who had always claimed to dote on me—stood firmly in front of his secretary to defend her. "Susie only had your best interest. Don't ruin the mood for everyone." His pack of so-called friends burst into laughter, egging him on. "Come on, don't be petty, Giselle. It's just a few bottles of Dom Perignon. Don't be so selfish." Yet their eyes were enveloped in evident malicious amusement. At that moment, one thing became certain: this fiance had to be replaced.

Neil Jackson's true love steals highly radioactive materials, but I'm the one who's facing a jail sentence. I find the thief, but Lorraine Larsen refuses to own up to her crimes. Even my longtime boyfriend refuses to act as a witness for me. All he wants to do is send me to jail. It's too bad they don't know I'm a researcher at the nation's secret research center. They also have no idea that they've stolen highly radioactive materials—they can easily be killed by those.

With Valentine’s Day approaching, my husband, Edwin Welles, finally freed up his schedule and agreed to spend the holiday with me. I joked that he must be the busiest man in the world. After all, the acting chairman had no time for the actual chairman. However, as soon as we entered the cinema, his phone rang. With just a single glance at the screen, a trace of panic appeared on his normally composed face. “Honey, a serious problem has come up with the tech project. I have to go back and deal with it.” I watched him walk out through the ticket checkpoint. The surrounding noise of the crowd made my chest feel tight. All of the company’s tech projects utilized my father’s patents. He was the dean of the top research institute and the company’s chairman, yet he had not received any news of a problem. What could Edwin, a research novice, possibly need to go back to handle? I opened the phone tracker app and followed him. I would just have to see for myself what this “serious problem” really was!

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

On the last day of the year, my music player app pushed out my 2025 listening report. My keyword was 'Resonance.' I had not actually spent much time listening to music that year. My account had mostly been used by my boyfriend, Jeremy Steward. A small line of text appeared underneath. [At 4:00 A.M. on December 1st, you were still sharing the same song with someone. So this is what love looks like, staying awake through the night.] My breath caught. December 1st was my birthday. However, that night, I had gone to bed early. Jeremy had rushed off right after cutting the cake, saying he needed to go back to the office for overtime. Almost as if possessed, I tapped my trembling hands on the unfamiliar profile that showed up as my most frequent interaction. Their keyword for the year was 'Exclusively Yours.' My heart skipped. I opened the details. [This year, you and this user listened to songs together late at night 688 times. Every time is a private whisper between souls.] Right then, a message from Jeremy popped up on my phone. [Babe, I have to work late again tonight. Don't wait up for me. Sleep early, okay?] At the same moment, that unfamiliar account posted a new update. A photo of two hands intertwined inside a car, fingers tightly laced together. [I love working late with him the most. We'll listen to music together for a lifetime.]

When Joseph Belfort was at his lowest, he caught me lying in bed with another man. Later, he made it big and married me in a wedding of the century. Everyone said he loved me more than life itself, but I knew he only did it out of revenge. Every day, he brings different women home. He sleeps with them to my face, even telling me to serve them. I do as told as long as he pays me. He's thoroughly disappointed in me and asks for a divorce. Then, he gives everything I once wished for to Yarra Quinton. He doesn't know everything I did in the past was just a lie, though. I'm about to die.

At my best friend’s marking ceremony, another shewolf tried to snatch the bouquet. It bounced off her hand and landed right in my arms. Everyone in the room looked in unspoken agreement at Alpha Derrick Anderson. They started egging him on. “Mark her! Mark her!” “This is the Moon Goddess’s will. Alpha Derrick, mark your Luna!” Derrick was pushed forward by the crowd until he stood in front of me. My cheeks turned red. My heart pounded as I waited for him to say 'will you be my mate'? Instead, he calmly took the bouquet from me, turned around, and handed it to the shewolf beside him. I froze. He reached out and ruffled my hair. His voice was as gentle as ever. “She got it first. Come on now. We’ll get it next time.” I looked at the shewolf next to me. Her face lit with surprise and quiet delight. My own face turned pale in an instant. What Derrick didn’t know was that there wouldn’t be a next time, as my marking ceremony was next week.

I gave Evan Cole six years. I changed my name, walked away from the Moretti family, and became the kind of woman he could handle: quiet, useful, easy to overlook. I paid the bills, fixed his proposals, opened doors he thought had opened by luck, and waited every time he said we were almost ready. Then Maracame back. His first love. The woman he swore he hated until the second she needed him again. After that, I became the problem. Too jealous. Too dramatic. Too hard to please. Evan thought I would break down and beg for my place. While he played house with Mara, I saved every receipt, every post, every lie. Then I cut off the money behind his perfect little life and called my family. On Christmas Eve, he asked if I would wait. I smiled and let him believe Leah was still waiting. By the time he learned my real name, Alessia Moretti was already gone, and the mafia princess he never knew had finally chosen herself.

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

At twenty, Lacey and I married into the Blackridge Pack’s elite Hale family. Fated mates are rare among nobility, so the Hale brothers had to choose us as their mates. In my last life, Lacey chose the charming Caleb. But Caleb didn't love her; he spent their wedding night with an ex and eventually moved his pregnant mistress next door. The pack mocked Lacey until her wolf spiraled into madness. I married the eldest, Damon. Branded as Luna, I earned the Council’s respect. Consumed by envy, a dying Lacey dragged me off a twenty-eighth-floor balcony. Now, I’m back on Selection Day. Lacey immediately grabs Damon’s arm. She’s reborn, too. "Tessa, you take Caleb," she hisses, claiming Damon before I can. I glance at Caleb. He’s staring out the window, clearly loathing this arrangement. Damon doesn't even look at me. "Fine," I say. If she wants Damon, she can have him. She clearly has no idea what being Luna actually costs. "No regrets," Lacey smirks. "No breaking the bond until death." I smile. "Deal."