Fake Saint Novels & Stories

The Mafia World is shaken by the fall of top families. It appears that this feared world has its more evil root. It is called the "Mirage". Saint D'Angelli is a merciless and heartless punisher of the arrogant families and is ready to eradicate them without the outside world knowing about their secrets. His looks, aura, and combat skills made him the most fearsome Underground Boss of Mirage System. Women would swoon over his sexy appeal but he is cold-hearted and sucks at dating. However, a brazen top secret agent appears and tries to unravel the secret. She is Keira Vince. She entered the Mafia World because of her dark past. With that, she was tasked to disguise herself as a Lady Consigliere of a top family that is scheduled for Mirage's eradication. She needs to seduce the underground boss to unravel the secrets of the Mafia World. Little did she know that Saint is also tasked to seduce her. Many obstacles will arise and secrets to be unraveled from both Saint's and Keira's pasts that will lead them to team up with each other until the end. With their seduction tasks, who will fall in the trap first: the Underground Boss or the Lady Consigliere?

I never thought my darkest, filthiest fantasies about the Alpha's quadruplet sons would become reality. The moment my mother and their father left for Rome, I stopped being their innocent stepsister and became thier…offering. I gagged on Reign's cock in the confessional while Knight devoured my pussy during mass. Zion fucked me raw on the alter with his rosary wrapped around my throat like a leash and Cahiah the last brother? Lost his mind the moment I tit fucked him while he was still on his cassock. They were my stepbrothers — I was the Alpha's mistress daughter. The pack’s ruthless enforcers — I was wolfless, less than a human. The church’s ‘holy’ priest. — I was a filthy daydreamer. We were incompatible, they're off-limits and I was way below them. But…. Who cares?

Every Christmas Eve in Port Saint Giovanni, the Camerlano family hosts the Claiming Rite at Saint Giovanni Manor. Twelve girls stand in a line. Whoever receives the white-gold signet pin becomes the heir’s publicly acknowledged bride candidate. I am Grace Sorrento, the bastard daughter of the Sorrento family. If I do not receive that signet tonight, by sunrise I will be put on a plane to Chicago and married off to a Rizzo, a man rumored to have killed two former fiancées. Adrian Camerlano, the boy I grew up with, swore to me in blood three days ago that the signet would be mine. But when the moment came, his hand turned. With a smile, he pinned it on Lucia, the orphan his family had sponsored. Then he leaned close to my ear. "Let Lucia have her moment. No one has ever really looked at her before. Don’t worry. This is my estate. No one will dare arrange your marriage without my say." I grabbed his sleeve, but he removed my fingers one by one. "Lucia has no roots and no last name. Tonight is all she has. But you are a Sorrento. Even without the signet, no one will touch you." That phrase, no last name, drew every gaze in the ballroom toward me, full of pity and quiet mockery. The next morning, I boarded a flight to Chicago. When Adrian heard, he made one call to Port Saint Giovanni Air Control. "Ground every plane. Nothing leaves today!"

My older sister, Scarlet Dawson, is an absolute saint with a savior complex. When the apocalyptic heatwave hits us, she gives out water to our neighbors, food to strangers, and even invites her boyfriend's entire family to live with us. When our supplies are finally depleted, Scarlet actually considers selling me off to a perverted old man in exchange for supplies to look after her boyfriend, Marcus Crosby. I promptly pull out my stun gun and knock her unconscious. Then, I hand her straight to the perverted old man instead. I go back to my villa, where the temperature is constantly kept at 60°F, and enjoy a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream under the air conditioning. Not only that, but my villa is stocked with enough supplies to last me for the next few decades!

Lexi Monroe is a seventeen year old senior. Everything was perfect until her boyfriend dumped her unexpectedly. The terrible thing is that she still likes him, a lot. Now meet Tyler Evans. He's drop-dead gorgeous guys at school. Tyler and Lexi used to be close friends at middle school but everything changed because of a little misunderstanding, so they became sworn enemies. What happens when their lives became intertwined again and they had to act as fake lovers? Will they overcome their differences or will they make things worse? Find out in this interesting and intriguing story.

Her ex-boyfriend’s older brother is the king of silicon Avenue. And he needs a fake fiancée…Hannah’s ex is a womanizing cheater, and she has just the plan to get over him. “Upgrade.” To the mysterious man she meets at the club who agrees to a one-night stand. But following the hottest night of her life, it’s the same smoldering green eyes she stares into across an interview table. Damien Bass”The dirty-talking, Possessive Tech-Mogul says he needs a personal Assistant. But the position comes with one small caveat, “To be His Fake Fiancée!!!”

Anna Ricks signed a one-day marriage contract to get out of a financial situation, she was supposed to make sure the marriage was annulled the next day under the circumstance of error of person but she couldn't. Things took a different turn when the groom, Daniel Matt found out he had been deceived and he is hell-bent on making the co-planners regret their actions. As matters arise and situations unfold, he finds himself falling for Anna.

Raeleigh Campbell has it all. She fought to be where she is, she has been through hell and back chasing her dream, now she's on top yet she feels like an empty shell of her former self. Hiding how she really feels to protect her family and fans. She tries to overcome the new challenges while pretending to be happy and while trying to keep her relationship with Carson.

As I turn to march out of the room, my feet stop and my breath hitches. "Bryanna. Why…” I whip back around and glare at them. "You aren't to use that name in public. Only when we are in private and alone.” Jacob flashes me a crooked smile. His eyes sparkle as he waves his finger around in the air. “We are alone. It is only us three in here.” He rests his arm on the table and gives me a cheesy grin, almost daring me to slap it off him. His t-shirt stretches tight against his muscular chest and accents his well-defined muscles. He has a true alpha body. The sparkle in his light brown eyes shimmers as he leans forward. In a deep, husky voice, he adds, “We know all your secrets. Plus, we can see your true self. The one nobody else can see because of the magic spell. Should I go on?” My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I stumble forward. How could he act like this? Bryanna, the heir to her pack, is forced into a contract relationship right before her eighteenth birthday which her father claims to be the best for both her and the pack. However, as she gets older, she soon realizes the contract relationship may not be the best choice for her, but it was a great choice for her father. When Bryanna and the contract are on the verge of falling apart, she faces a choice only she can make. Does she fight for the mate she can't detect at the risk of her secret coming out? Or does she sacrifice her happiness for the pack and her father's wishes while also keeping her secret buried?

“Where’s that bastard?” My eyes snapped toward the woman storming into the room like a hurricane. “I couldn’t stop her, Mr. Darian!” I waved the guy away and studied the woman whose hair looked like it had gone through war, clearly fighting her way up here. My brothers looked just as entertained as I did confused. “Which bastard?” “My bastard of a husband! Where is Darian Freeman?” My brothers burst out laughing like they’d just witnessed the world’s finest comedy show. I, however, failed to see the joke. She smoothed her wild hair, fixing those hazel eyes on me. “Tell me where he is. I swear I won’t kill him. I just want to shove these papers down his throat,” she said, waving the papers in my face. “There must be a mistake,” I said, still trying to piece this insanity together. “Oh stop feeding me fairy tales! Where is that son of a bitch?” “Are you insane? There’s clearly a mistake here! I am Darian Freeman and I am one hundred percent sure I am not your husband!”