Faking With Benefits Novels & Stories

But thinking of it now, I knew it wasn't so logical. How come I was in a wedding dress in the first place? The answer to the question would bring a lot of publicity I wasn't ready to face. Plus, the negative publicity might affect the new campaign in ways I wouldn't even be able to imagine. If I lost my job, I wasn't so sure of getting another one any time soon. “I don't know,” I answered honestly. Mr Benedetto smiled. “Alright. While you think up a solution, would you do me a favor? As your boss,”

She was probably promising him that ten million dollars was on its way, that she just needed a few more days to get the paperwork sorted out. Victor would verify the story, of course. He would call Pinnacle Insurance and ask about Marcus Martinez's policy. And the customer service representative would confirm that yes, there was indeed a policy on file, and yes, Isabella Martinez was now listed as the beneficiary. What Victor wouldn't know is that I arranged for that confirmation through a different contact at the insurance company, someone who owed me a favor and was willing to provide false information for the right price. Isabella would get her extension. Victor would give her a few more

McBain saw his opening and tried to shove me in. I refused. Of course, I refused. He did everything he was being accused of and deserved to lose the case over it. I’d done enough dirty work for McBain out of a twisted sense of obligation. How many secret surgeries had I performed, treating gun and knife wounds on his buddies? Much to my shame, I even wrote dozens of fake prescriptions to provide him with a steady supply of various forms of opioids.

I rushed the last part out, too nervous to monitor my phrasing. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, dreading his reaction to this insane proposition. The weighted silence stretched out until he finally cleared his throat. "I see. And what's your stance on this... unorthodox publicity moves between us?" My throat felt dry, but I forced myself to hold his intense gaze. "Truthfully? I think it's farcical and demeaning to everything we've built together. You've become an invaluable partner and friend. This whole fake relationship feels like a violation of the trust between us."

“And what do you get out of it?” He hesitated. “My dad’s been on my back. Says I need to ‘prove’ I’m responsible or he’ll shut down the garage and I’ve got a race coming up with fifty grand on the line. I need his tools and a warehouse of his that he rarely uses. I've asked but he says he doesn't trust me because I'm irresponsible.” “So we both have problems,” I said. “Yeah, and we can both fix them if we fake this.” “I don’t trust you,” I said finally.

he blurted out of nowhere. “Are you seriously kidding me right now?” He smirked. “Of course not. I am serious. Let’s get married. Let’s make this whole thing real. We were supposed to get married anyway. Remember, we are still engaged.” “Oh my gosh, you still remember that fake engagement?” “That engagement brings us closer together, thanks to your dad.” “I wonder how dad would react if he knew about our relationship.”

he said, smirking, “we could do fake with benefits. Like, really commit to the role.” I punched his arm. “You’re such a dick.” “Yeah, but do you like it?.” “Debatable.” But I was smiling, and my hands were back on him, sliding up his chest. “Fake with benefits sounds like the coward’s way out.” “Maybe.” He kissed my jaw, slowly. “But it also sounds hot.” I laughed, but I couldn't help it. “But you have to make me actually fall for you…..” “And you keep stalling…. But yes…” His hand slid up my thigh, thumb brushing the edge of my underwear. “So what’s it gonna be, Liv? Fake with benefits, or are we going full real and terrifying?”

"They create fake charities, phantom construction firms, and dummy corporations. By the time the money hits a real bank, it looks like clean, legitimate profit." "So we are not just tracking numbers," I reasoned, watching the fake company names flash across the screen. "We are tracking fake businesses." Kade offered a genuine nod of approval. He rested his elbows on the edge of the desk and looked at the screen. "You have to filter the noise," Kade answered, typing a quick command to freeze the scrolling text. "A fake IP bounce happens instantly because a machine generates the signal. A real transfer requires human authorization, so there is always a microsecond delay in the server response.

Pam’s head swiveled like a spectator at a tennis match, probably wondering why both of us had our jaws hanging down to the ground. I snapped my mouth closed and rose to my full height, which was not impressive by any means, but it made me feel more put together, which I desperately needed right about then. Fake it ‘til you make it became my personal motto. “Hello, Mr. er . . . Boston. Lovely to see you again.” I pasted on a sickly sweet smile and tried to quantify the odds that Pam wouldn’t put two and two together about my jerk of a boss. As an accountant, I liked adding and subtracting, not statistics. Pretty sure it was one hundred percent certain I’d be out of a job in three . . . two .

Could it be what the employees claim is true, that performance is being manipulated, wages are being skimmed, short-term benefits are used to pacify them, and then salaries are reduced again under the excuse of poor company performance? This made others start doubting again. I let out a sneer. "Of course not. My company has been around for ten years. For ten years, those benefits have been in place. "If what you say is true, where was I skimming wages from in the beginning when they hadn't even generated any revenue? "Besides, their monthly performance has always been pitifully low. Based on the actual numbers, they don't even make more than five thousand dollars. "But still, I paid them nea