Novel & Cerita Fake Mistress

Alicia responded, "We don't know nothing. We didn't do nothing." Dane brought out his phone, showing a video, "But that's you slapping Roxanne, right?" Alicia and Trisha looked at the video, and Alicia denied, "That ain't me." Trisha admitted, "I knew we shouldn't take that job." Alicia pinched Trisha, signaling her to be quiet. James asked, "Who hired you to do what?" Trisha revealed, "We got this ad on Craigslist to slap her and say 'leave my man Jaxon,' but believe us, we've never met any Jaxon in our lives before."

"What are you implying, huh?" Elena stepped forward, leaned into Victoria’s ear, and whispered in a cold, enigmatic tone: "Nothing. I just suddenly remembered a story about a friend of mine. She had a perfect and loyal husband, but the wife was playing around, cheating with another man behind his back. She thought her husband was stupid and loved her too much to ever find out. But as it turned out, the husband was secretly reciprocating that betrayal by doing the exact same thing behind her back. Painful and crazy, isn't it?"

Maddy said, stammering her words. "Oh, come on," Myra said. "It's about time we got all this out in the open anyway. I did a lap dance for Mark in Myrtle Beach when I was a stripper, and he got me all hot, so I made him cum. Then he went off to meet a girl who looked exactly like me, going under a fake name of Felicia? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, especially after seeing both your reactions down on the pier." "Oh my fucking God," Maddy muttered, covering her face with her hands.

"Dear husband, I, your humble wife, come from a humble background. You already know this. In the beginning, I sang in a small street stall, but I couldn't avoid being gossiped about. Luna Sandra even said that I had an affair with a martial artist and forced him to torture me severely, coercing me into confessing. Although I come from a lower class, I am still pure-hearted. How could I admit to something I didn't do? I had no choice but to desperately plead with the mistress for a chance at life. She gave me an opportunity on the condition that I leave promptly. But before I left, I had to help Luna Sandra fabricate a false accusation against the third miss. I know the third miss and the mis

Capable. But that feeling didn't last. Because the guilt returned. She remembered her lips on his. The way she'd surrendered to him in the fitting room, the gasps, the heat, her body responding without thinking. And she also remembered how he'd left her humiliated, making it clear that this was a test. Just another step in her role as "fake wife." She shoved the set back into the bag and stuffed everything back into the bags, pushing them aside. She stood up abruptly and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

the woman said before turning to look back at her "All we know is that you showed up at the Ashcroft's mansion and fell down the stairs." She remembered Gideon asking if Cameron had pushed her down the stairs. He'd called her Natalia too. The doctors could be mistaken and refuse to believe her but Gideon wouldn't. They'd been married for a long time. How could a husband not recognize his wife? Was he that good of an actor or did he also believe she was Natalia? "Hold on. Why do you people think Gideon is my boyfriend?" If to them she was Natalia, how could she be Gideon's girlfriend?

"Is this enough? I can get more. I'd rather the money come to me than go to the mistress." I counted the zeros. More than 150 million. Well, that was screw-you money, certainly. "More than enough. Alright, here's the plan. We can…" … We came up with the perfect plan and decided to fake our deaths. The date? My sister-in-law's birthday. The one to push the blame to? My husband's mistress, Lorelei. Oh, some people might call me cruel, but you should've seen the message she sent me. I'd love to make sure she gets a life sentence.

Good. I leaned forward, giving them a better view. “Miss me already? Or were you just starving without me?” I teased. The ring light was hot against my skin and the wig itched just a little at the sides of my forehead, but I ignored it like always. I stayed in character, purring sweet nothings into the camera and twirling my hair like I wasn’t sweating underneath it all. Sometimes I wondered if they knew how fake it all was, how carefully every look and every smile was planned. But maybe that was the point. They didn’t want the real girl behind the mask, they wanted Velvet Mistress. They wanted a fantasy. And I gave it to them because it paid the bills and kept me fed. I kept checking the ch

If he could make me forget the father of my child, I could make him doubt the fidelity of his mistress. I spent the afternoon playing the role of the “reformed” wife. I didn’t hide in my room. I moved through the house with a quiet, submissive purpose, always lingering just long enough to drop a drop of venom. I made sure to leave a tab open on his private tablet—an article about “paternity fraud among corporate socialites”—and then quickly closed it with a flustered apology when he walked in. “I’m sorry, Daniel,” I said, my eyes wide and shimmering with fake tears. “I’m just… I’m so worried about the family legacy. I want everything to be perfect for the gala. I don’t want anyone to laugh a

The crowd just grew closer to her as she attempted to move, to push through the encroaching masses. She was unable to comprehend. Until she noticed it. The magazine cover. displayed on newsstands. displayed on all phone screens. Her face. Her name. The big, nasty, and deliberate headline. "From scholarship student to millionaire's mistress: Belle Madrigal." Her stomach fell. It was a phoney article. twisted. A beautifully written tale of duplicity, ambition, and manipulation. She was portrayed as having snuck into Alistair's life, robbing him of his fiancée, and securing her future by bearing his heir.