Fake Hero Novels & Stories

I muttered. Her eyes widened. “Really?” She asked. I nodded. “Yeah, it's because he disguised himself as another person.” Ava's mouth opened. “What, how is that possible?” She asked. I shook my head. “I don't know, but I saw his picture, and the disguise was so perfect that you would have never imagined it, Jake.” “This Jake is really a criminal. How did he do that?” She said. I sighed. “We are in the digital age; there is nothing impossible.” I said.

"No you don't. You have a younger brother. Marcus. He's sixteen and wants to be a pilot." Vale's face went pale. "See?" The front Hale stepped closer. "I'm real. That thing behind you is the fake." "He's lying," the back Hale said. "It's pulling information from the files it stole. It knows everything about all of us." "Then how do we tell?" I asked. My voice came out weak. The fever was making it hard to think. "You can't," both Hales said at the same time. Then they both smiled. The exact same smile.

"Call the cops? Go ahead." I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. "You have me arrested, and the whole city instantly finds out Cassandra ditched her marriage and hired a body double." "The great heir to the Sinclair Group, played for a fool by a knockoff this whole time." "I've even got the headline ready: 'SHOCKER: Billionaire Heir Falls Victim to Body-Double Honey Trap. Is This the Twisting of Human Nature, or the Collapse of All Morality?!'" Julian took a deep breath, the vein on his forehead twitching.

The fabric slipped slightly, exposing more of my skin to his gaze. “And me?” he let out a humorless laugh, “Most of the time, I’m Alessandro Costello. A tech genius. A mobster. A killer. A hacker. A murderer. But then—” he paused, snapping open another button, “Then there’s Ghost. And Ghost? He’s pissed at the world, Red. So fucking angry. At everything. At women. Especially women. And he doesn’t even know why. He doesn’t understand what made him this way, but he’s past caring.” Alessandro’s hand stopped on the last undone button of the jacket, the fabric now barely holding its place on my shoulders and then with a mere twist of his wrist, the last button popped open.

Name: Marcus Nelle Age: 30 years old Identity: Hero HA2 Ability: Psychokinetic Additional Identity: Father of 3 little naughty children Original World: Earth ‘Not a Transmigrator. Almighty Heroes’ [His bulky figure and scar face scare most children that admire him but his bulky figure was also the one that can make his enemy lower on his level intimidated. He was a tough guy outside but a soft guy at children inside especially for his naughty children.] The scarred guy bio instantly pop up beside his figure with bold characters and coloured blue, no Heroes could see it, even if a Sotiras will be here, they can’t also see it as the privacy is strictly encrypted.

She’s stroking her Barbie doll as her gaze shifts between her father and the Pretty Lady. “How do you know my daughter?” He demands. “What the hell are you playing at?” “We…” Halsey glances at Jo who shakes her head. Don’t tell him that I snuck out, she prays. “We met at the restaurant that night,” Halsey lies. “S-She was lost so I helped her finding the way and then-” “We were attacked by the men in masks!” Jo chips in. “Pretty Lady saved me that night!” “Halsey,” Halsey smiles at her. “I’m Halsey.”

“What do you have in mind?” He gives me a crooked smile back. “How about sending some fake info about a ‘new’ liquor which doesn’t have the bitter taste of alcohol and has even stronger effects on werewolves? Downing one glass, and the werewolf is knocked on his/her butt. What do you think?” A new secret liquor. Very interesting. I like it. I nod my head. “That sounds good. How are you going to ‘leak’ it to the rogue pack?”

He saw me as nothing but an obstacle to his true love, desperate to be free of me. His friends immediately offered suggestions. Until one proposed an idea that had everyone eagerly anticipating the outcome. "I've got the perfect plan—Travis, you fake your death at the wedding. We'll livestream it and watch her break down completely, crying her eyes out!" After saying this, the person seemed to realize they'd gone too far and stopped talking.

Then he attached it to an anonymous whistleblower tip and sent it off to three major media outlets under fake identities, ensuring every trace of his identity was scrubbed clean. By the time he was done, his phone buzzed again. "Food delivered." He smiled. "Well, Alina," he said aloud, sitting back, "enjoy your chicken." Then his voice turned colder. "And you, Mr. Ashford…. Enjoy your last night of freedom. Because tomorrow the whole world would be watching your empire crumble.”

“Well, he’ll do it either way, so what do you have to lose? Perhaps he might surprise you by telling you he feels the same way.” Florence highly doubted it, even though she desperately wished it was true. There was no way Scott faked his feelings the entire time they were together on their honeymoon. There was no way he was that attentive, kind, and passionate toward each woman he slept with or took on a vacation. Florence wanted so hard to believe she was different to him. That he had never felt that way with anyone else. That he treated her differently. If not, how could she explain to herself how he made her feel? Should she believe that he was able to trick her into believing he cared fo