Fake Saint Novels & Stories

"A grubby schmuck waltzing into Regal International? Security! What's this place coming to, letting in street scum? It's revolting!" His cronies piled on. "Hey, don't soil the rugs." "Mark, remember? This guy is all principled, claiming money means nothing. Now that his gimpy girlfriend is history, he is here trolling for a rich benefactress?" Their malicious cackles reverberated through the lobby. Enduring their fabricated slander, I fixed Mark with a steely glare and ground my teeth. "Back off!" Mark's expression soured. "Say that again!" He lunged forward, shoving me with brutal strength.

As each day ticked on by so did a little piece of hope that I would be seeing him again. I really thought we had something. Jen watches me for a moment. “I can’t believe he didn’t call you.” “I can,” I mutter sadly. “I knew he was too good to be true.” I fake a smile. “You know the old saying—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” I shrug. “And besides, he lives in Texas.” “Do you think he really lived in Texas, or was that another lie?” I raise my eyebrows at the depressing thought. “God, probably another lie. He’s not a fucking mechanic. I know that for certain. Who knows what else he lied about?”

I couldn't wait for my grandfather to pay the ransom and eventually rescue me. I need to make a move on my own. I pat myself and check all my pockets to see if I have something I can use as a weapon. I feel something pointy, it gives me hope. I pull it out only to find out its just a pen. But pens have pointy end and can be used as a weapon too. I decide to play the oldest trick in the book and fake illness to lure the guard inside. I press my palms against my stomach and start groaning loudly.

“I just couldn’t figure out why.” “Because you didn’t believe my methods were any good. That I was any good. In fact, you announced it loudly at the bar, during the last conference. You had the gall to say I didn’t have what it takes and would be out of business soon. So, I made... How did you describe it, Dominic?” Samaire tilted her head in Dominic’s direction without breaking eye contact with Brian. “Yes… A fake profile for the real world.” Brian’s eyes were round as he glanced at his cellphone screen and then back at Samaire.

I questioned her. She looked at me with uncertainty, took a deep breath and answered, "We need you to be a fake bride”. I released my hand from her grip but she continued, "It's less than two weeks away from now, I promise we're going to annul it. The only thing we need is your presence as the bride". I chuckled forcefully, "I have a lot on my plate and I do not have time to on a charade". I tried to open the car door but she held on to me tightly and started pleading. I wasn't ready to be caught in between the rich folks but she kept on emphasizing how I'd fit the role perfectly because I have almost the same body frame as Daisy.

Lincoln said but I just smirk and raised an eyebrow at him. "Feral or not feral, they're all just the same rogues, Lincoln. But I'll consider your suggestion." I replied to Lincoln and fake a smile at him just to annoy him. "What if your mate turns out to be a rogue? If that day will come then I will thank the moon goddess for giving you the karma that you deserve, Michael." Lincoln said and then he went to the small garden located on the side of the packhouse, I saw him picked some flowers.

"I’m here for Susan Carpenter...my Aunt. I’ve come to take her body for burial." The mortician studied her briefly, asked a few routine questions, and then reached for a clipboard. Jennifer had prepared everything...the fake name, the story, the small envelope of cash she handed over without hesitation. Papers were signed, receipts exchanged. The mortician gave the usual instructions and nodded to the men who handled the coffins. Outside, two attendants carried Susan’s coffin toward a van Jennifer had booked. She watched them approach, her heart steady but her palms damp. As the coffin passed, she exhaled slowly.

But, there was never anything more than that friendship, and that one failed date…” His voice faltered, like he was not sure how to explain things better, and truth be told he was not doing the greatest of jobs, as Sara’s face twisted in pain, and tears filled her eyes. “Well, I do not believe you. I will not be accepting any Luna whore you try to force upon us. You lying, scumbag cheat.” And with that she stalked away, leaving Zaine and me to look at one another in complete shock. What had I let myself into?

His lips parted slightly, and I found myself wanting to kiss him again. I must be losing my mind, or perhaps this man has some sort of magical influence. If he truly believes that Maya will leave her husband for him, he’s gravely mistaken. He’ll be waiting an eternity. “I’m telling you what your mind refuses to acknowledge. Do you even know my nickname?” I said with a smirk. “It’s ‘the snail.’ I always stick to the side of truth.” He lets out a soft chuckle, “Your nickname doesn’t even fit the description. Can a snail really tell the truth?”

"Aurora, I didn't mean to! When he woke up, he thought I was his girlfriend... I told him he was the Falcone heir and that you guys were just crazy stalkers mistaking him for your dead friend! I didn't tell you the truth because I didn't want to hurt you!" What a vicious, perfect lie. An amnesiac Julian, brainwashed into thinking he was just a victim of mistaken identity, bought it completely. He didn't even glance at the portrait on the altar, dismissing this whole grieving crowd as lunatics. He stepped forward and hugged the crying Scarlett, shielding her behind him.