Novel & Cerita Fake Princess

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.

Laughing, I took another pillow and hit my friend. "Stop it, what you're doing is disgusting!" I laughed out loud here. Laughingly, she seat down again. "I'm not kidding, Eliza! Come on, wake up from your modesty. Do you really want to lose your handsome and muscular husband? You're not the only girl in the world so think before everyone catches on!”

She’s the daughter of Victor Shaw? [Am I seeing things? The elusive Shaw heiress… it’s her?!] [So, it’s not some fake heiress drama. It’s a princess in disguise surrounded by a bunch of idiots who couldn’t tell?!] [Oh my god… that slap in the face… are Brian, Luna, and Jasmine even okay after this?] Brian’s expression had gone beyond just bad. His face was ashen, his body swaying as if he might collapse at any second. Luna looked utterly shaken, her mouth hanging open, her eyes filled with fear and disbelief.

Because this time she had the role of a witch, she chose that role herself. The scenario is the fairy tale Rapunzel vs Cinderella, Mira is CinderPunzel, a kind girl with long hair and two half-sisters. Ilona and Lusi became her half-sisters. Mr. Jason, the manager, is the prince because his half-blood face wouldn't be suitable as a prince. Wenny has distributed the scenario to all staff who have drama roles.

How did I fall for this? “Yes, the King wants his daughter back, but she would put the country to shame again by marrying you, an American with quite a reputation.” “So instead, you pretended to be the King.” “I did not pretend to be the King. I’m doing him a favor. The invitation is real. We faked a reply to the King that Princess Tara will be coming home.” The asshole smiled. I didn’t believe anything he said. He was clearly lying. The King might not be as well aware of Tara’s request.

Fake Pearl. Sitting on the sofa as if she belonged here more than I ever did. She wore my kind of clothes, soft colors, pastel, gentle fabrics gowns that complimented my skin tone. Her hair was arranged neatly, not a strand out of place. Luna Valery sat beside her like a queen guarding her little pet. The moment they saw me, the fake one’s eyes widened with that practiced, trembling innocence. I almost applauded her. She was perfect. Too perfect. “Pearl,” she breathed, standing up like she was thrilled to see me.

She had expected to feel triumphant—she had just legally secured the financial freedom she'd always wanted. Instead, she felt hollow. Empty. The enormity of her deception pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. Her phone buzzed with a text from Jane: ‘Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwood. The performance of a lifetime has just begun.’ Lyra looked out the window as Manhattan's skyline gave way to the tree-lined highways leading to Long Island. To Ryker's estate. To her new prison of luxury and lies. The marriage certificate in her handbag felt like it was burning a hole through the expensive leather. On paper, she was Jane Blackwood now.

“Please what? Please fuck you like the slut you are? Beg for it, Amelia.” She flinched at her real name. “How do you—” “I know everything now.” I yanked the straps of her dress down, exposing her breasts. No bra again. I palmed them roughly, squeezing until she winced. “Your shitty apartment in Bushwick. Your sealed record in Florida. The brands that pay you peanuts to shake your ass online.” I twisted a nipple, hard, pulling a cry from her. “You’re literally nothing. A fake.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Asshole.”

he inquired, motioning for her to come forward. Closing the door behind her, Rebecca hesitated before she spoke, choosing her words carefully. "Doctor, I find myself in a delicate situation, and I need your assistance. The king is desperately searching for his mate, Adriana, who has fled the castle. I need you to fake a pregnancy report for me so that I can convince the king that I am carrying his child. This way, he will make me his Luna instead of Adriana." Dr. Harrington's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at her, shocked at her words. "Rebecca, I can not engage in such deception. It goes against my principles as a doctor and as an honorable individual." Dr Harrington said as Rebecca

"How old was she when she made her first million?" "What seafood is she allergic to?" The fake princess couldn't answer a single one. She looked desperately at Matthew. But Matthew was already paralyzed with fear, hiding behind the crowd like a coward. He didn't dare make a peep. With no other choice, she guessed. "My favorite color is blue. Eighteen. And I'm not allergic to any seafood!" A twisted smile crept onto the Don’s face. Thinking she had passed the test, the fake princess was about to sigh in relief when the Don roared at the top of his lungs.