Fake Façade Novels & Stories

The system chimed, cheerful and cruel as ever. [Main Mission Activated: Become the CEO’s Shield.] [Task: Accept Fake Relationship Proposal.] [Reward: +15 Affection Points. Failure: Host Termination.] Termination. Again. My lips twitched into something that might have been a smile. “Fake boyfriend. Sure, I can do fake. I’m amazing at fake. My whole life is basically fake.” Dream tilted his head slightly, his tone flat. “So you accept.” “Do I even have a choice?”

A well known and powerful celebrity was hosting a networking gala and like most of the wealthy people in the country and beyond, Frederick was also invited. Frederick devised a strategic plan to leverage the upcoming networking gala as a platform to showcase a fabricated persona—his fake wife—who would embody charm and sophistication and elevate his social standing among the wealthy elite. By presenting her as his partner, he aimed to create an illusion of a perfect union that would draw attention and intrigue from other affluent guests. The goal was to not only impress the attendees and get them talking about them outside. To make it clear that he was indeed married and to no ordinary woman

A blank canvas I can shape without the usual resistance I get from women who think they have leverage. My hand moves before I can stop it. I pull my phone from my jacket pocket, keeping it low under the table edge where the others cannot see. The screen lights up. Her profile loads instantly, the one she spent years building to hide the truth. I scroll slowly, my thumb moving almost on autopilot. There she is at some fake charity brunch, smiling in a rented red dress that hugs her body exactly the way the silk nightwear did last night when I peeled it off her. The caption reads something about “grateful for old friends and new beginnings.” Silly. Innocent. Completely fabricated.

shе rеpliеd, hеr words lacеd with falsеhood. Dеspitе knowing shе was lying, I chosе not to prеss thе issuе furthеr. Instеad, I fеignеd accеptancе of hеr rеply, masking my truе fееlings bеhind a façadе of composurе. "I can't еvеn allow you to givе hеr thе Empirе back," I statеd, playing along with Janе and hеr siblings' charadе.

“Answer the question, please.” Adrian started to rise. Vanessa stopped him. I straightened. “I never lied. I protected my family.” “And in doing so, you impersonated your twin. Legally married under false pretenses. Enjoyed the benefits of a marriage contract worth billions.” “It wasn’t for me,” I snapped. “I was saving my father’s company.” “So your personal motivation excuses deception?” I went cold. “Your client faked a pregnancy and filed a false birth certificate.” “And your name is nowhere on the legal record,” she shot back. “So who really faked what?”

Something irreparable, but coverable: with smiles, with pretty looks, with good gestures. She doesn't lie, she hides the truth. She doesn't say anything, and she yells a lot in complete silence. She is the absolute image of the controversy. The good, which must be bad by nature. The beautiful thing, that it is completely broken. The strength, which has weaknesses. The quiet girl with books and loud music, who goes out to a party to get high. The promiscuity, that she does not like to kiss. The life that is not real. The life that is invented. The life that must be lived out of obligation. The fake life she invented in her dreams to survive.

He plastered her profile with, fake school incidents, club VIP entries, luxury vacations, purchases of designer bags, charity scandals, influencer rumors, random petty gossip, dramatic public breakdowns, paparazzi sightings, drunk escapades, the perfect mask. The perfect decoy. The Elena the world mocked. The Elena no one would believe capable of killing a powerful councilman. Or dismantling a dozen armed men in the dark. Or hacking her way into the NSA database at sixteen. Jace sat back, breathing hard. “Try digging now,” he whispered, smirking darkly. “See what trash you find.” He activated a shield sweep. Anyone who dug deeper would get looped back to Elena’s fake socialite persona. A com

“The terms. The arrangement. The… fake love story we now have to parade to the entire world because I couldn’t handle being humiliated.” Dante leaned back against the sofa, watching me like he was waiting for a performance. “Go on.” Fine. He wanted rules? He’d get them. “Rule One,” I said, pacing the length of the suite. “We sell it. All of it. The public wants a fairy tale, so that’s what we’ll give them. Photos, kisses, handholding, the whole charade. If we’re in a room together, we look like a couple that can’t keep their hands off each other. No exceptions.”

Since then, the youngest heir to the Vuitton tech fortune released a follow-up video—in clothes this time—apologizing, no doubt attempting to mend ties with the Bass family, whom the Vuittons invest heavily into. Good luck with that. In the video, she—or should I say her lawyer—explains the dangerous prevalence of artificial intelligence and deepfakes, painting Priscella as an innocent victim of some extortionate hacker, who has yet to be unveiled. Let me be the first to say, no one's believing that, Miss Vuitton. Not me, not my readers and especially not tycoons on Silicon Avenue. All of us know the truth... Those pixels were realer than every one of your "orgasms."

He took my face in his hands and directed my gaze to his deep blue eyes, assuring me that everything would be alright. “You need to answer that phone and put it in a loud speaker,” he continued. “I am here with you, Shane. Nothing will happen, okay? Trust me.” he assured me. With my trembling hand, I swipe my thumb to the screen and put the call in speaker. “Shane Croven,” he said as soon as I picked it up the call, his voice is deep but whole. I doubt that this is his real voice so I am sure that he is using a voice manipulation.