Fake Chat Exo

After I started working at the zoo, I was added to a group chat called “A Hundred Ways to Kill a Human.” Every member had an animal as their profile picture. At first, I thought it was some quirky staff group. I even found it kind of cute. That was, until I realized they were discussing how to eat me. Pedro the Parrot: [The new human has beautiful eyes. I can’t wait till Christmas. I want to peck them out right now!] George the Gorilla: [Relax. There’ll be many visitors during Christmas. We’ll have more eyeballs than we can eat! Also, I’m calling dibs on her thigh.] Thor the Tiger: [Nobody’s taking her head, right? That’s mine.] Tucker the Elephant: [I’m a vegetarian, but I can crush her bones to dust.]

After a painful breakup, Selena finds herself in a vulnerable moment, seeking comfort in the arms of a mysterious stranger. However, when she discovers that he is Justin Branson, a billionaire playboy CEO, she is shocked. Their secret encounter has gone viral, threatening her already fragile reputation and Justin's. To divert attention from the scandal and salvage the situation, Justin proposes a fake relationship. Selena agrees, but soon finds herself drawn to his charismatic charm and undeniable attraction as they work closely together. She struggles to trust him, despite his playboy ways, which seem determined to destroy her. As they navigate their fake relationship, real feelings emerge. Will their fake relationship turn into something real, or will secrets and complications tear them apart?

Mi pareja en línea resultó ser… mi jefe. Pero claro, él no tiene ni idea de que la persona del otro lado del chat soy yo. Y lo peor es que, una y otra vez, insiste en que quiere conocernos en persona. ¡Madre mía! Si eso ocurriera, terminaría en un estado fatal al día siguiente. Así que, sin dudarlo, lo dejé. Después de eso, se puso de un humor terrible, y toda la empresa tuvo que pagar las consecuencias con horas extras. Y pues… ¿cómo decirlo? Por mi salud mental y física, volver con él… tampoco suena tan mal.

"$50,000 if you're willing to be my fake girlfriend." It was an offer she couldn't refuse, not just because of the big money, but also because Jonathan's ‘thing’ was huge, kind of XL! **** Weni first met Jonathan on a crowded train, feeling a 'big' presence that stuck with her. Little did she know, he was the CEO at her new workplace. During the interview, Jonathan was intrigued by her and offered her a $50,000 contract to be his fake girlfriend. Weni accepted, despite some awkward moments they had to go through to keep up the charade. After agreeing to the contract, she was shocked to find out that Jonathan's cousin was her ex, David, who betrayed her in the past. Determined to make David regret cheating on her, she embarked on a journey of revenge while playing the role of Jonathan's fake girlfriend.

He needed a fake fiancée. She needed a lifeline. Neither expected to become a target. Amelia Monroe signs a contract to save her clinic and escape a crushing lawsuit: pretend to be the future wife of Frederick Blackwell, a cold, calculating billionaire with more enemies than friends. But the moment the ink dries, everything spirals. A mysterious car crash. Silent boardroom wars. Leaked secrets. And Frederick—her supposed fake fiancé—goes missing. As Amelia gets pulled deeper into his world of corporate deception and hidden vendettas, one thing becomes terrifyingly clear: this was never just a contract. The threats are real. The danger is closing in. And the only thing more dangerous than the lies… is the growing truth between them. How do you fake a love that starts to feel real—when someone out there wants to see you both destroyed?

While my boyfriend, Caleb Lawson, is in the shower, I grab his phone on a whim and drop a message in the group chat he's in with his friends. "Guess who I'm with tonight." I expect them to say my name, but their reply blindsides me. "That freshman who used to chase you when you were a sophomore? She's obsessed with you. She's definitely easier than your girlfriend. Want us to swing by tonight?" My gut tells me he's hiding more than an affair. Just as I start scrolling through his messages with the freshman, a notification from her pops up. "Caleb, I agree to the threesome. I'll do anything you want." Seconds later, another message appears in the group chat. "Just be careful this time. We don't need another body on our hands."

At the yacht party, everyone watches as Sophia Montgomery falls overboard by accident, whereas I dive in after her to save her. When I reach her, she clings to me, dragging us both under. Jack Harrison doesn't hesitate to jump in. He pushes me away before pulling her into his arms. Up on deck, the crowd erupts in cheers, applauding the hero for saving the damsel in distress. Camera flashes go off endlessly. Meanwhile, I struggle alone in the freezing ocean to reach the ladder. No one notices me. The next morning, still burning with fever, I place a document in front of him. "I want a divorce," I demand, my voice hoarse from swallowing seawater. Jack frowns. "Just because of last night? Sophia can't swim, and it was an emergency. Since you can, you could make it back yourself." A laugh escapes my lips. Of course. I can only rely on myself. I've been doing it for the past five years. He only has eyes for Sophia, so, of course, he doesn't care whether I live or die.

I accidentally ruined the cake at the fake daughter's birthday party. As punishment, my parents and brother locked me in the basement. "You’ve let your jealousy ruin a perfectly good celebration. Stay here and think about what you’ve done!" they shouted. They left me in the basement and went off to the Maldives to throw another birthday party for the fake daughter. When a gas leak occurred at home, I was still locked in the basement. As soon as they remotely turned the lights on, the whole house exploded, taking my life with it. After my death, my spirit drifted over to where my family was celebrating. I saw them gathered around the fake daughter on a beach. When a luxury three-tiered cake was brought out, they watched her make a wish with a smile. The fake daughter put on a show of concern about me. "Darling, you’re too kind-hearted. People like her deserve to be locked up and taught a lesson. Let’s see if she dares to take anything from you again," they said. Hearing that, I completely gave up on my family. When they returned home and saw the destroyed house, however, my parents and brother went mad.

The enemies of my adopted sister's parents mistook me for her and kidnapped me. Before the rogues killed me, they gave me three phone calls for help. If anyone was willing to give me three hundred dollars, I could live. For the first call, I dialed my father. Father didn't listen to a word I said. He immediately unleashed a torrent of curses. "Where the hell are you? Get your ass back home right now for your sister's birthday!" For the second call, I dialed my brother. My brother listened silently to my plea for help, then hung up with a cold snort. "You're never around when the pack needs you. Who's going to fall for this act now?" For the third call, I dialed my fiancé. He didn't even answer. When I called again, I'd been blocked. The rogue wolf laughed at me. "Looks like being the eldest daughter of the Ashwood family doesn't mean much, does it?" After he tortured me to death, he stuffed my body into a suitcase and threw it in the river.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”