Faking With Benefits Novels & Stories

she dropped the bomb with the most unbothered smile on her My jaw hits the floor with a thud "What? What do you mean by faking an illness?" To this she had another prolonged laughter before she stopped to answer "Oh you still haven't put it together... Just how stupid can you be? I was never sick. I just faked it, and Dr Fang here just happened to be in a very tight spot back then... With her help I was able to fabricate everything I needed to make it look like I was actually dying..." She stopped to taking the misery spilling on my face before she continued

Transfer records—the ghost employee files with his authorisation codes stamped on every page. "Fourteen fictitious employees on Bennett Holdings' payroll," I said. "Created using fabricated hiring documents, complete with fake performance reviews, fake disciplinary records, and fake termination dates designed to cycle them off the system before annual reviews could flag them. Monthly salaries totalling approximately two hundred and sixty thousand dollars per quarter, deposited into accounts traced to shell companies controlled by Victoria Bennett." Hart looked down at the documents. His face didn't change, but I watched the colour drain from his neck, creeping upward like water being absorbe

I couldn't tell her the truth, so I had to give her a version of reality that made sense. “I need you to give me a job at your company,” I explained. “I don't actually have to come into the office, but I need the paperwork. I need to be able to show her that I’m working as a secretary. That way, if I’m away from home for a few days at a time, she’ll just think I’m busy with work or staying near the office. I’ll tell her I got a job with Mr. Everett’s firm.” Mr. St. Clair’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a brilliant idea! I’ll have my people prepare everything you need—the contract, the ID, the formal offer. Whatever it takes to make it look official.”

I cleared my voice and started “ First and foremost we have to look for jobs since the money we came with won't carry us for long.” Jack gave me his tablet so that I could type up resumes and start looking for jobs. “ It's going to be hard since we have no references, no work history. Who is going to hire us?” Lance asked “Fake it,” Jack said with a shrug and joined us on the couch. “ If each of you gets a phone, you can create a fake work history and list each other as references.” I stared at him and he held up his defensively “ What?” People do it all the time and it's not a big issue here.”

“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?”

“Now I know that he drinks earl grey tea. Forrest, mate. Don’t you get in trouble using a fake name?” “People fake everything nowadays. It’s not that he committed a crime that they could connect them to Forrest,” Pyke answered. “I didn’t commit any crimes. I didn’t fake anything. My accent maybe, but my citizenship is still British. You just imposed that I am American.” They went silent and looked at each other. “Have anyone checked my IDs?” When they didn’t reply, I answered, “That’s what I thought.” The document I passed on my application was forged, but no one suspected me. I couldn’t use my MIT diploma and my actual name because it would be suspicious. I actually committed fraud.

I was sitting alone at the empty dining table when my phone buzzed. It was an anonymous text. No name, just a picture and a message. The picture was of Albert’s hand, a hand I knew better than my own. But the laurel wreath tattoo symbolizing our mate bond had been altered—a tiny letter ‘M’ was now etched into the design. The message read: All I had to do was ask, and he let me leave my mark on him. Another message came through. So what if the ceremony is fake? He told me that in his heart, I’m his chosen one.

“Is your engagement to Richard really fake?” In that moment, the truth fluttered at the tip of my tongue, ready to spill forth. I could have revealed everything; the savourless reality of our farce, but instead, I smirked, allowing a playful tone to slip into my response. “There’s no benefit in being a fake fiancée when I can enjoy all the perks of being a real one.” With that, I turned and walked toward the door, feeling the weight of my words hang in the air like smoke.

the entitlement in his voice was glaring despite the fact that he was the one who needed help. And frankly, all those benefits outlined in the offer letter and a million more weren't enough to even keep me at arms length with a man like him, talk less of being by his side most of the time. I could barely tolerate him even though our interactions were sparse and spaced out, if I agreed to work for him I would surely run mad minutes into my first day. “Just sign that and you’ll never have a worry in life, your benefits are subject to change upon request every three months during your period of employment and you’ll have a retirement fund that can feed nations,” he failed to sound convincing be