Faking It With The Ex-navy Seal Novels & Stories

It's the night before the college entrance exam. I pack and move out on the same day because I have already been admitted to Starward University through the guaranteed admission program. I also give all my notes and almost-new belongings to my roommate, Sonya Bradshaw, who's from a poorer family. For the past three years, I'd practically covered all of her living expenses, fed her yummy food every day, and even let her come along to my expensive extra tuition classes for free. Sonya has already turned to leave the dorm as I am leaving. However, she suddenly stops in her footsteps and turns to look at me. I assume that she's just going to say something mushy about parting with me, but t

Marcus replied. "This seal is fake," the lawyer announced. "Fake? What do you mean?" "Come over and see it for yourself." Marcus wasted no time in rushing over to the table where the lawyer had set the documents to stamp them. "How can something I suffered to find be fake…" He trailed off when he saw a blaring FUCK YOU written in capital letters, instead of Frederick's signature. "What the hell is this?" he boomed in anger. "The seal you brought," the lawyer replied, earning a glare from him.

"I joined the navy because that's where my grandfather served and it sounded like the right thing to do. Plus, the army recruiter was a real asshole, but the navy guys talked about fleet week and how much fun they had." "And the girls?" Fleet week is a big thing in San Francisco. I've heard all the stories. Hudson laughs. "The girls may have had something to do with it. Anyway, my first few months at boot camp I ran into this guy named Ridge. He was a SEAL doing training with his team nearby. In passing one afternoon I asked him what it was like to be a SEAL and he didn't give me the standard answers." "There're standard answers?" "Yeah, you know. 'It's great, kid' or 'The best thing on the

I could feel the heavy, rhythmic thud of his predatory heart through the thick fabric of his shirt—a steady, unyielding anchor in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control. ​"An unscheduled tactical raid in one of the busiest shipping hubs in Asia is a massive compliance nightmare, Mr. Vane," I whispered, my eyes flashing a brief, electric purple in the soft glow of the monitor. "It’s going to require at least four sets of falsified maritime credentials and a complete rewrite of our global security operations budget before the morning market opens in New York." ​"Then it's a good thing I have the most brilliant senior secretary in the world to manage the compliance details," Silas mur

He tapped several icons and finally tapped on ‘ Control The Haulster Remotely’ He jumped with joy when it got connected. The screen started streaming the footage from the Roxana Bay. He felt all the fatigue drain when he saw the boats sailing away from the beach. He was glad that Mr. Roy had taken his commands seriously. His face hardened and his hands shook slightly as he tapped a series of codes. He had to do this. If Roasty was found, it would lead the authorities to the secret civilization. A single teardrop slid down his cheek as he tapped the icon ‘Confirm Self Destruction.’

“What do you have in mind?” He gives me a crooked smile back. “How about sending some fake info about a ‘new’ liquor which doesn’t have the bitter taste of alcohol and has even stronger effects on werewolves? Downing one glass, and the werewolf is knocked on his/her butt. What do you think?” A new secret liquor. Very interesting. I like it. I nod my head. “That sounds good. How are you going to ‘leak’ it to the rogue pack?”

They couldn’t be. I grabbed my phone and called Cipher … an old contact, a hacker with a taste for morally gray jobs. “Need a favor,” I said once he picked up. “I’ve got pictures that need vetting. Someone faked them to blow up my marriage.” “Ah, heartbreak and espionage. Send ’em over. I’ll let you know what I find.” I hung up, turned the fireplace on with the remote, and poured myself a drink. The fire blurred a little as I stared at it, the heat licking at my skin.

A man whose name alone made enemies surrender. "This is," Duchess Marianne said slowly, her voice unsure for the first time tonight. "This is General Ironwood's seal." "It is," I confirmed, keeping my voice calm. Suddenly a voice cut through the noise. "It is a forgery." I turned, already knowing who had spoken. "The seal is fake," Garrick continued, stepping forward. "Anyone can melt wax and press a design. This proves nothing." His friends whispered in agreement. "The tea is probably inferior quality," one of them added. "Made to look expensive. But worthless."

"So, it really is your wedding today?" I looked him dead in the eye, calm and composed. "You think I'm like you? Always playing with people like they're pawns in your little games? "The wedding dress was custom-made, and Gavin brought the ring back from overseas. Neither of them was rented." Easton looked like he'd just been stabbed. "Then, the e-invite..." I opened my phone and shoved my feed in front of his face.

Then he attached it to an anonymous whistleblower tip and sent it off to three major media outlets under fake identities, ensuring every trace of his identity was scrubbed clean. By the time he was done, his phone buzzed again. "Food delivered." He smiled. "Well, Alina," he said aloud, sitting back, "enjoy your chicken." Then his voice turned colder. "And you, Mr. Ashford…. Enjoy your last night of freedom. Because tomorrow the whole world would be watching your empire crumble.”