Deception 100 Novels & Stories

Desperate times call for desperate measures. That was exactly what Bridgette did to Philip. She trapped him into believing that the child she was carrying was his, even though she knew it was terribly wrong. But when Philip discovered the truth, he was furious and filed for divorce. What would happen to her child? Who would the child grow up calling "Dad"? What if, one day, fate brought her face to face with her child's real father again? Would she finally tell him that their one unforgettable night had created a life? Or would she once again let another man bear the responsibility for her child? Enjoy reading! ^_^

"Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction." ― Criss Jami His dark piercing gaze glided upon her like a warm silken cloth, tickling her senses as his eyes moved from her head to toe taking her all in at once and Mahi felt an odd tingling sensation passing through the back of her neck, which couldn't be entirely termed as unpleasant.

And trust me when I say I’m no player, because I’m honestly not. Eighty-five percent of these girls were clearly after status and fame. Searching for a wealthy bachelor they see fit and the other fifteen percent were just too clingy, declaring their love for me and hoping to become Mrs De Luca. such delusional women. I assume you can’t help but wonder what my type is and in all honesty. I don’t have a type, but all these women just seemed to lack something I looked for in a woman... “originality”. Anyway, I have totally given up on all this relationship drama, as the hopes of finding love give you the harmful torment of burning up inside. So relationships are a thing of the past. Rather, I’v

The creator spoke with breathless excitement. He replayed my interview response frame by frame. Slowed footage. Magnified pupils. He measured how long I blinked. He counted the seconds between my breaths. “This,” he said confidently, “is classic deception behavior.” The comments flooded below. She’s guilty. Look at her eyes. You can always tell. I scrolled. Another video. A girl sat in front of a ring light, holding my book. Sticky notes marked nearly every page. She flipped to highlighted paragraphs. “She wrote about forbidden love here,” she said, tapping the page.

The decks were reshuffled. So, that's how she's doing it, he thought. After all these years, she still hasn't changed. Let's beat her in her own game. Now, I know that there is no miracle at work. He sat down, observed her movement. Six cards, she has drawn, he had done the same. Not a bad hand, not at all. Four of his six cards were units; the one of the last two was a magical card while the other was a spy. The shaman wasn't a complete novice; he had observed a championship in this game. Lots of tricks he has in his pocket and he knows the right time to use them.

"It is not without logic." "Yes," Sera said. "Their definition of deception is doing significant work," he said. "If the panel accepts that concealing her voice constitutes material deception the argument holds." "If," Cress said. "If," Finn confirmed. He looked at the document. "The question is what the concealment was in response to," he said. "Deception implies intent to deceive for personal gain." He looked at Sera. "What were you concealing from?" Sera looked at him. "A structure designed to punish accurate perception," she said.

The true death of a deception doesn't happen when the data is printed or when the evidence is cast down onto the marble floorboards; it initializes in the precise, bone-chilling second you look up into the eyes of the man you controlled and realize his gaze is sliding right past your face as if you were nothing but a sheet of dirty glass. When a protector’s easy-trusting nature drops to absolute zero, the engineered tears dry up instantly on your skin, forcing you to drop the fake act, stand up on your own feet, and finally rip off the mask.

I knew I had betrayed his trust but the truth was going to come out someday - nevertheless. "He was my boyfriend," I replied, looking up at him. He stood still, shaken to the marrow. Then like a joke, his voice rippled out a devilish laughter. "Was? for how long?" He put in. "Three years." He laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You are 24 years old and you do not act like the professional trained assassin that you are. How then will you be able to handle Tyler Skyler? Have you forgotten that you're supposed to be his secretary in our supposed revenge-plan and no one should know who you are?"

Phoebe scolded me, "You're such a fool. I saw him at the mall buying jewelry with another woman, all smiles. You should interrogate him." I brushed my new haircut. "Why would I do that? I don't love him anymore." Phoebe's eyes lit up. "Should have done so a long time ago. You used to be so lovesick. Now you're more carefree and attractive. Remember that dance leader who kept checking you out? Interested in a new romance?" I shrugged. "Maybe." It was around 11 p.m., but Derrick still wasn't home. I called him, and he answered quickly.

He approached Julia and asked her accusingly, "Did you throw the script on the ground?" Yasmin and her assistant looked at each other and smiled triumphantly. The director was known to have a short temper, and now he looked furious. They would soon witness the humiliating spectacle of Julia being dismissed from the team, and that was exactly what we wanted. That was what Yasmin and her assistant believed, but... Julia's voice was even and unruffled as she spoke. Douglas Murray's best-selling book, "A Journey to Splendid Beauty," inspires this script about a civet cat. This tale depicts how... "