Faking Straight Novels & Stories

“Bravo. You're a great analyzer, huh? But unfortunately your analysis was not proven correct. Jeff died by suicide. He was so frustrated with his life and heart disease that it limited his mobility. He must have thought that death was the right choice to end all his suffering." “You're happy about his death, right? You don't deserve a penny of grandpa's inheritance. You're nothing but a shit.” Calvin smiled scornfully. “Am I really happy about Jeff's death? How about you? Didn't you fake your marriage with that bitch?” “Never insult my wife, or I will crush your nose again. This time I'll make sure you won't be able to breathe using your crooked nose.” “Nice try. You tried to bully me and se

Instead, his long, calloused fingers slid gently but unyieldingly up the side of Liam's jaw, his thumb pressing firmly against the corner of Liam's mouth, forcing him to look up into the full, unvarnished heat of his gaze. "I tried to be straight asf for you, Liam. I went to the club, I let those girls touch me, and it made me want to rip my own skin off," Jaxson rasped, his jaw working silently as his breathing turned heavy and ragged. "The pretense is over. The business deal is done. From this second on, anything I do to you... anything I say to you... is entirely real."

“Goddess, Jaz! Leila has no interest in this speed-dating shit either and her dad won’t get off her case about it. And you know that I don’t want to continue to do these dates. So we agreed to … fake it.” Her eyes narrow even further. “What do you mean, ‘fake it’?” I licked my lips nervously. “I mean like, fake-date. If we fake-date and pretend that we’re into each other, both of our dads will get off our backs about meeting all these other people.” Whatever Jaz expected me to say, it wasn’t that. “You think I’m supposed to be…. What? Excited for you?” She was seething, color rising in her cheeks. The waiter approached our table to refill our waters but cowered away again as soon as he saw h

“Thank you. I’ll take that under consideration.” “You have to get your stories straight before this interview. You can’t afford to have even the slightest discrepancy between the two of you. I understand you’ve got a problem. Do what you’re known for. Turn on that charm and get the woman to see reason. I’m sure you could sweeten the pot a little to make her more inclined to take you back.” Again, he was telling me to fake it. To bribe her so I could get the money. “Thanks for your time. Is there anything else?”

I’m holding a prop silver fork, ready to say my next line, when Marcus, the actor playing my love interest, suddenly drops his character mask. "I can't even look at you," he says, his voice loud enough to carry over the hum of the cooling fans. The cameras are still rolling, the red tally lights glaring like angry eyes. "I mean, how do you do it, Sydney? How do you sit there and pretend to be this victim when we all know you’re a fraud? Stooping that low... faking a whole-ass accident for three years just to get a pity-pass back into the industry? It’s pathetic."

I shook my head quickly, lifting both hands in protest. “No, no, you don’t need to pay me. You’ve already done more than enough—” “Ten thousand dollars,” he interrupted, eyes still on his plate. “It’s not up for negotiation.” He took a bite of steak, chewed slowly. I swallowed hard as I watched him chew his food, ten thousand dollars everyday to play pretend? If I impress him I’ll get double? Pretend wife I played throughout my entire childhood for free? shall I just set up my own business? bring all contract wife deals to me. I marry rich people on contract for a living, sounds nice actually. He finally looked up at me, his gaze sizing me up and automatically shutting my thoughts up.

“A fake relationship is a fineable offense, but a fake engagement is corporate fraud, and if the board catches us lying about a marriage, they won't just fire me—they’ll blackball my license and sue you for breach of contract." "They won't catch us because we aren't going to look like we're lying," Stefan said, his strides effortless as he closed the distance between us again, his massive frame completely cutting off the exit until I was trapped between his chest and the brickwork, the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with the sharp metallic tang of the arena air.

I said flatly. “Well, that’s not how you speak to your fiancée,” she replied calmly. I clenched my jaw. “Don’t start.” “I’m not starting anything,” she said. “I’m just reminding you of your new reality.” I stayed silent. She let out a soft laugh. “You’ve seen the reactions, right? People love it. The perfect couple. The strong comeback story.” “It’s fake,” I said. “Everything about your career is fake,” she replied smoothly. “You should be used to it by now.”

“You hired someone to stand beside you, to look convincing, and to make your ex sweat. I did that. So why does my identity suddenly matter?” My laugh came out sharp - almost hysterical. “Because I did not hire you,” I said. “I hired a fake fiancé, and now I’m standing here with a real billionaire who apparently knew my name, my scandal, and my family before I even opened my door.” His expression did not change. “And?” he asked. “And?” I echoed. “And it feels like everything else about you is fake too.” His gaze hardened just a little. “It doesn’t matter what’s real or fake about me,” he said, his voice smooth but with steel underneath. “What matters is that I did exactly what you paid for.”

"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."