Fake Identity Novels & Stories

“With my butt on this freezing floor? While I'm about to be sold by some stranger in a few hours?” I realized I was clenching my teeth. “That’s not going to happen.” “Easy for you to say!” “If it were easy for me, I wouldn't be here right now.” Fortunately, that sentence managed to quiet her. While she was talking, I had already accessed the identity records and started filtering the names that appeared. The phone number on the card made my job significantly easier. I began transferring all the accounts—large and small—into entirely different accounts. Meanwhile, I made a fake call to myself.

Dante asked. The guests were already clearly visible. A few of them noticed us and turned to stare. As I turned to face him, I noticed more and more people turning to look. A phone's camera light flashed somewhere. “Yes, I have. Note that's it's contract wife though, not a real wife. Just to save your image,” I said. Dante studied me for a moment, as though wondering what could have made me change my mind so quickly. “Alright,” he finally said, and I could almost see the internal shrug. “I will ring my lawyer now.”

“I have to go, Francesca, but you have to tell no one about this. I want you to promise me that this will be our secret.” “What do you mean?” She looked more confused. “My father and stepmother arranged my marriage to Santino Banks, and I can’t do it. I don’t love the guy, and besides, he’s arrogant, and if I had known that he was an idiot, I wouldn’t have spent that night with him. So, I want to find love in my own way and terms.” “How are you going to do that?” “I’ll leave all my credit cards and ID with you so that I can experience the world as a normal person without my title as Camilla Ross. I want to take on a fake identity to achieve what I want.”

He continues explaining the tasks that we’ll need to complete, but I can’t hear a thing anymore. It was hard for me to pay attention to anything work-related today. After our girls’ night out on Friday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Michelle’s suggestion, since it seems to be the only option for me to keep my apartment. What would the outcome be if I decided to go through with the fake marriage idea? What are the risks if the immigration office finds out I’ve committed marriage fraud? I avoided searching for information online about the topic how not to be tagged as a potential criminal. I’ve always been a good girl, following the rules. I recycle, always pay for breakfast bars

If she hadn’t known that the man in front of her was actually the Skyvault’s boss, she might have still considered giving him a chance. But now… This was the ultimate public humiliation! What “Julian Hart”… What “Vivian’s son”… All of that was nothing but a fake identity he had created. A persona designed specifically to fool an innocent, naive girl like her. Sure enough, if men in this world could truly be trusted, pigs would probably be able to fly.

"Someone real enough that the investigators believe they found something, but not connected to any of us." Dorian's expression shifted immediately, something hard and unhappy settling into his features. "No. I'm not throwing an actual person under Lucien's investigators just to buy myself breathing room. Some junior contractor who's never even met me getting his life torn apart because we needed a distraction. I won't do that." "It doesn't have to be a real person," I said before Kael could argue the point further. Both of them looked at me. "Build someone fake. A shell identity with a paper trail solid enough to survive a background check, but nobody actually attached to it. If the investig

It felt really awkward, the tension between the both of us, and the tension of meeting with Terese again. Should I confront her or act ignorant? Would Xavier mention it to her? I doubt. He’d already made it clear that he trusted her, over me- the woman he was in a fake relationship with. I couldn’t wait for all this drama to be over. I couldn’t wait to be back to my normal life, away from this madding crowd. To wake up knowing I was Harper Williams, an independent entity and not tied to a billionaire because I couldn’t afford to pay my mother’s bills or my personal bills.

“Now I know that he drinks earl grey tea. Forrest, mate. Don’t you get in trouble using a fake name?” “People fake everything nowadays. It’s not that he committed a crime that they could connect them to Forrest,” Pyke answered. “I didn’t commit any crimes. I didn’t fake anything. My accent maybe, but my citizenship is still British. You just imposed that I am American.” They went silent and looked at each other. “Have anyone checked my IDs?” When they didn’t reply, I answered, “That’s what I thought.” The document I passed on my application was forged, but no one suspected me. I couldn’t use my MIT diploma and my actual name because it would be suspicious. I actually committed fraud.

Surprisingly, he sounded better when he spoke like this rather than when he did with his normal voice. “But—” I clicked my tongue, struggling to find the best words that would suit to my question. I scrupulously looked at both of our sides if there was anyone nearby who could possibly hear us. When it’s all cleared and there was none, I spoke brusquely; “What are you hiding from? Why—why that look?” I asked, both lips protruded as if using it to point his style. He brushed his fake mustache. “The best way to hide from the public eye, is to pretend that you are a public figure. Fake celebrity names. Fake backgrounds. Fake jobs. Fake identities. Fake accents. Fake everything.”

I will surely miss this. I wore my shades even though I'll go to the bank. It is for privacy purposes. I noticed that the people started to look at me as I entered the bank. We walked to the bank's VIP room and started the business. I signed some documents and waited while they packed the money in the bag. I didn't believe I'm wasting much money to find a fake husband. I work hard to make this money. I let my assistant and bodyguards leave the room ahead of me because I needed to retouch my makeup.