Fake Identity

Everyone in the pack envies how devoted Kingsley Laurent is to me. After getting appointed as Alpha, he turns down every she-wolf who throws herself at him and vows to wait until his position is fully secure before marking me. The mate bonding ceremony he promises is the most sacred of all, one that would place me beside him as Luna and establish our pup as his rightful heir. Kingsley openly despises my rebellious sister, Heather Johnson. His eyes harden whenever her name comes up. "Don't let your train wreck of a sister ruin our ceremony." Until one night, when I find a voice message on Heather's phone and hear his voice—hoarse, ragged with desire. "Will you shift for me tonight, baby? I want to see you in chains." While he claims he's on a business trip down south, he's actually spending the night with my sister at a couples' hotel. Over the phone, he swears his devotion to me. "If I ever betray you, may I be punished by losing you forever." At the same time, he grabs Heather by the chin and says coldly, "I will only ever have one Luna, and that's Eliza Johnson. You're just a plaything." Since he made that vow, I'll fulfill it for him. I fake my death, burn down our home, and vanish from his world with his pup growing inside me.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” I burst out, staring at Ethan like he’d sprouted twenty extra heads. “You want me to... to pretend to be your girlfriend? What, like, fake holding hands? Fake kissing? Fake everything?” He didn’t blink as his nonchalant gaze met mine, a hint of a smirk playing on those lips. “Yes, Riley. That’s usually how fake dating works.” All Harper Adams wanted was to get through one evening pretending to be her best friend on a blind date. But when her date turned out to be Ethan Reynolds—her infuriatingly handsome CEO—things quickly spiraled out of control. Now, she’s caught in a whirlwind of fake romance to help him dodge his family’s relentless matchmaking schemes. Between awkward office run-ins and public displays of “affection” at high-society galas, Harper is discovering that fake dating might be a lot harder than she thought—especially when her feelings for Ethan start to feel all too real. With secrets piling up and hilariously disastrous moments at every turn, Harper’s left wondering: can she survive this charade, or will her fake love life blow up in her face?

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

July a workholic woman who is in a relationship with her old lover in secret. The age that is no longer young makes her big family urge to get married, even they arrange an marriage partner for her. The reason July keeps her relationship with Argus a secret from people around her is because the past history they had as former college student and his status as a widower. Argus once left July before and married another woman of his parents ' choice. July does not want her big family to know which is definitely the they relationship will be opposed by all parties, even on the day of her marriage, July still kept the identity of the groom until the end. That's why an agent hired by Argus can show up at a wedding to be a substitute groomer. July is trapped in a fake married life with N over a contractual agreement.

I was only ten years old when Timoteo Panno found me on the streets of Sirithi. He's the Don of the Panno family, the strongest mafia family in the country. He's also the one who taught me how to protect myself. When I turn 18 years old, I become his lover as well as the weapon he's most proud of. Timoteo isn't interested in other women. I'm the only one staying by his side for many years. We've been with each other for four years. Everyone thinks I'll eventually become the Madre of the Panno family. That is, until Nadia Bellucci accidentally kills her fiance and desperately needs a clean identity to wash herself of all suspicions. As she clutches her chest that houses her heart, which is now weakened from the time she has saved Timoteo's life, she whines coquettishly, "Timoteo, I don't want to go to prison…" With a smile on his face, Timoteo doesn't hesitate to push me out as the scapegoat to take the blame for Nadia. "You've always been a pawn who gets abandoned all the time, so you might as well do it one more time."

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

On the day of my wedding to Elliot Wendell, a fake heiress committed suicide. In the second year of our marriage, we ended up enemies. He hated me, the true heiress, for returning and causing Celeste Dent’s death. I hated him for loving the woman who had taken my place as an heiress for twenty years. During the ten years of our marriage, we fought each other with vicious words and wished for the other to die. Then, there was an earthquake, and he shielded me beneath him. He protected me with his back. The building collapsed, and he ended up a mangled and bloody corpse. As he lay dying, he whispered into my ear, “If I had known that she would die, I would’ve never taken you home.” “If we ever meet again, it would be better if I were your only family.” In the end, I still died in the secondary quakes. When I opened my eyes again, I found that I had gone back in time. It was the day when he brought me to the Dent family to regain my rightful place among them. Elliot suddenly changed his mind and said, “Samantha, I was wrong. You’re not the daughter the Dent family lost twenty years ago.”

I was growing up as the much-hated "fake heiress" in a wealthy family, and my life took a devastating turn after my death. My childhood friend who lived next door leaked my nudes online, branding me as manipulative and promiscuous. This ignited public outrage, with strangers celebrating my demise at my family's home. My parents, eager to sever any connection with me, destroyed our mansion that very night, even going so far as to feed my ashes to the dog. Everyone said I deserved it. On the day the true heiress married my childhood friend in a grand, live-streamed wedding, I gave them a unique wedding present from beyond the grave.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

Joel Gleason, my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, promised he'd marry no one but me. But then, to help Jenny Swisher, my adoptive sister, get through her depression, he secretly married her. I didn't hesitate for a second before agreeing to marry Conrad Lennon, Jasselton's most untouchable heir, who'd been in love with me for years. After seven years of marriage, he still spoiled me rotten. He clung to me every night like he couldn't get enough. And there was nothing he wouldn't do for me. I really thought I'd found happiness at last. But one day, after we'd slept together, I heard him talking to his best friend. "Jenny's an international best actress now. When are you dumping Jean?" "It doesn't matter. I wouldn't end up with the person I love either way. Besides, I have to keep an eye on Jean. I can't let her ruin all the happiness Jenny worked so hard for." I booted up the computer in Conrad's study and stumbled upon a hidden folder. Inside were over 100,000 photos of Jenny, plus 100 unsent love letters. I'd been fooling myself long enough. It was time to wake up. I got myself a fake body and got ready to start a fire. That was it. Conrad and I were done for good.