Faking It: Tears Of A Crime นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Marks opens his mouth, but no words come out. He’s a fish out of water, gasping for air. “He’s a liar and a cheat,” Miller continues, his voice rising. “He’s been lining his pockets with dirty money for years, and he’s finally getting what he deserves. He’s going to jail, and he’ll never see the light of day again.” Miller slams the folder shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Marks slumps in his chair, defeated. Tears stream down his cheeks as he looks at me, silently begging for help. But I’m as stunned as he is, my mind racing to find a way out of this ambush.

“The mating ceremony with Victor was fake! We only did it to appease the pack…” “Fake?” I pulled out my phone. “Is this fake, too?” I showed her my social media feed. “You blocked me on all your accounts,” I said coldly. “But my friends can still see all the happy pictures of you and Victor.” “That was…” “Beach vacations. Candlelit dinners. Private yachts.” I flicked through the images. “And this one. The two of you kissing in Paris. The caption? ‘With my one true soulmate.’”

“You don’t act afraid of me.” “According to you, I’m a liar and seductress. Why not an actress too?” Something cool and wet slips down my cheek. Another tear. And here I was, thinking I'd cried out all of them. His jaw tenses. He lifts his hand to my face. I flinch. But all he does is stroke my cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the wet streak. “Are these crocodile tears for my benefit?” he murmurs. “Obviously.” I say it without emotion. “I faked that orgasm too, by the way.”

Scarlet exclaims, wetting her fingers on her tongue and then putting them under her eye to make it look like she is crying actual tears. "What?" She asks me, sounding annoyed as I keep looking at her. "What are you doing?" I enquire, talking in whispers as I'm surprised at her action. "If it was a movie I would definitely cry but it's real life so I'm in need of my fake tears." She shrugs and repeats her action, producing fake tears. This 14 years old girl is actually unbelievable. I can't tell what goes inside of her little head.

Crocodile tears gradually trickle down her chins. Every one except me expresses genuine remorse over her tears. Alpha Douglas alongside bridgette indulge in the feigned remorse. Guess they do so to avoid suspicions from the weeping dummies. Everyone expresses emotional hurt over her tears and painful narration. Their expressions darkens and remorse cloud their faces. Oh geez!. How dumb are these wolfs. Pretty obvious her tears are crocodile. A dizzy bitch dosent head up stage, regain composure within seconds and shed tears the next. Her actions are obviously fake.

“I hope you’re aware, those fake tears cannot buy you out of this. You were the ones who sent those pictures of Wayne and Jasmine to me. Be prepared to explain everything… —*

I warn, hating how my voice cracks. I’m terrified, and I’m bad at hiding it. They know, because my hand is literally shaking right in front of them. “What a pleasant surprise,” one of them mutters. His voice, I recognize it as the first male, the man‑whore. “Drogo’s pet?” “She faked it,” the one next to him says. “I thought she fainted, but that was all to get away. Smart move, girl.” Don’t tell me they were among those men in the room. I didn’t know their faces because I didn’t care to take a careful moment to look.

“Stop whatever you're doing. It's not going to work.” “What's not going to work,” she sniffled. “Your pretense,” Talia cut in. “We are going to expose you to the police. They are going to get you for what you did, Bambi. You cannot hide behind those fake tears anymore,” “Fake?” Bambi asked, and a smile faltered on her face. “You think my real tears are fake?” “Calling them real makes them even fake.” I added. She leaned towards me, her voice merely above a whisper. “You know what would interest the police, Maxton?” She asked.

She sniffled, her eyes welling up with tears. “It wasn’t intentional, Juliano.” Her voice was shaky; a drop of tear fell from her eye as she blinked. “Making a fool of me for years wasn't intentional?” I stared at her, hungry for an answer. If that'd make me forgive myself for trusting so much. She sniffed and pretended to search her purse for a handkerchief. Her fingers shifted the purse towards me, making it an excuse to lean across the table. “Don't try to fake it. I won't fall for those tears anymore”, She bit her lips, caught up in her act. I used to hate seeing her cry.

I imagined her breathing this warmth of hers into my nostrils, while we engage in a deep French kiss on my bed in a cozy night and in a calm morning. I caressed her back, pretending to sob along, and forcing tears to well up in my eyes. Fake tear, I bet no one the universe can create such more than I do. I can force as much tears as the crocodiles in swamps and lakes, and I can sob and wail in pretence, more the wives of a polygamist who had met his earthly demise. “I couldn’t help her…I couldn’t help her when she needed me the most.” Even her sob and her wailing were so alluring, rousing my nerves and making me wail even more with her in my arms.