Faking It With The Ex-navy Seal Novels & Stories

“They never touch our line. Ever. What the fuck changed?” Sean stepped closer, lowering his voice as if Tamara couldn’t hear us already. “One of their containers was hijacked last night. Out at sea. Off the Kingston route. Their intel says it was us.” “That’s bullshit,” I snapped. “We’ve been running clean for three goddamn weeks.” “I know. But someone used our seal, our ship code, and even mimicked our call-in frequency.”

“You pretend to belong. That’s the deal, right? Fake it till you make it.” I groan. “You make it sound easy.” “Because it is. Walk in there with Adrian, head high, pretend you own three yachts. Smile at cameras like you have nothing to hide. Piece of cake.” “Piece of humiliation cake,” I correct. By Saturday night, I’m zipped into a navy gown borrowed from the Harrington wardrobe team—fabric that shimmers like starlight under our apartment’s weak bulb. Even Maya is speechless for a full ten seconds before whispering, “You look like you were born to ruin billionaires.”

“Because I was scared you’d say no. And then you’d hate me even more. And I already hated myself enough for both of us.” I laughed. “You think proposing now makes it better? Fake engaged? On a boat full of people who watched you kiss your ex while we were together?” “Not fake forever.” He took the box back gently, like I might bite. “Just… until we board. We do it right before we get on. In front of whoever’s there to see. Big moment. Pictures. Ava freaks. Caleb chokes on his tongue. We get the cabin upgrade maybe. Everyone buys it. And then on the boat we just… keep going. We sell the hell out of it. Every kiss. Every look. Every time I touch you like you’re mine. Because if we half-ass it,

Kept it somewhere behind the composure and the contract clauses and the precise, managed distance he maintained from everything that might require him to feel something he hadn't approved in advance. What if I'm not faking? His voice last night. The quietness of it. The way he'd said it and then let the silence answer for him. I turned the shower off. Stood in the steam. Stop it, Skylar. Five thousand a month. That's what this is. That's all this is.

Better to pay and be done with it than invite trouble into my life. “This might be bigger than we think. It’s not small money. The loan sharks have threatened — and she appears married to you. God forbid something happens to her, our name could get dragged into it. That won’t be good for business,” he tried to reason. Working for the state and higher-ups meant our operation required discretion. But what did a fake marriage have to do with any of this? “And maybe this crazy woman hunting you will see she’s married and stop trying to trap you!”

“You don’t have to run every time the truth gets close.” I turned away anyway. The rumor spread faster than fire. By the time I saw it, it was everywhere. Photos. Headlines. Lies wrapped in polished words. Alex Reynolds spotted with a mystery woman. Trouble in paradise? My hands shook as I scrolled. Vanessa’s name wasn’t on the post. It didn’t need to be. Her signature was all over it. I stared at the images. Cropped. Blurry. Old. Nothing real. Everything is damaged. My chest burned.

"Are you insane? Fine, don't apologize, but this—this is overkill..." "Overkill?" My voice cracked, burning with rage. "You lied to me for three years, Jack. Used me like an ATM. Made me a punchline. And THIS is what's too much?" Jack frowned. "What are you even talking about?" "The call," I said, eyes locked on his. "I heard everything you and your buddy said." His face went rigid. "Faking bankruptcy was a blast, huh?" I dumped the rest of the cash from my bag. "Watching me burn myself every night just to save money—you must've felt like a king."

She looks directly at the camera above the freezer and yells, "He told me there were only two. Three if we count the back alley. You tell him we're going to have a talk tonight." Anessa laughs, going back to rolling out her dough. Another normal day at the Bakery by the Bay. "My boyfriend used to be a SEAL and sometimes he forgets he's not in the spy business anymore. At least not spying on me. I mean three okay, four maybe, but six? That's ridiculous." Huxley drops his concerned expression and nods his head as if her exclamation totally makes sense. "A SEAL, huh? Sometimes it's hard to forget you're not on mission anymore."

For a moment, it looked like a storm that was blowing across the sea, sweeping up everything in its path. He stared at her quietly for a few seconds and scrutinized her. “How do you know about this? Did the old master tell you?” Sean’s subordinates would not reveal it. The only person Yvette had come into contact with who dared to expose Sean was the old master. In an instant, his expression turned cold. Sean intended to create a false impression for Yvette, leading her to think that he was just printing counterfeit banknotes because that was much better than drug dealing. Unfortunately, she still found out.

Everett felt worried. Ellar was really calm because he was ready for this moment. "It means, don't bother with fake seals. They won't work," Ellar said casually. "You think these are fake?" Everett felt hopeful, thinking Ellar was calm because he thought the seals were just fake. "It's not a guess. I know they're fake because..." Ellar paused, then added, "I arranged for fakes to be made." Everett was shocked and asked, "What did you say?"