Feigning Innocence Mga Nobela at Kwento

My name hung in the air like the clanging of a church bell, the next ring coming before the other disappeared, each time louder than the time before. My knees gave way as my retreat met with the freshly painted wall. I couldn't back any farther away. Down was my only option. As I descended into a crouching position, so did Nox. Our physical connection severed, though our gaze remained set. Afraid to look away, from the corner of my eye I saw her face. Not that of Deloris, now holding tightly to the doorjamb, her complexion as pale as the walls, but of Jocelyn. She smiled knowingly up from the floor near my feet, still clad in the Louboutins. The high heels forced my knees toward my breasts.

The silence stretched, almost as brittle as glass. “I. . . I asked for this audience because I have no other way to prove my innocence,” I began. “I have not seen the map, and I have also not seen the locket. I have no one to vouch for me. And I know what that looks like, what it means.” Even you. . . He circled me like a predator assessing prey. “It means you’re a liar, it means you are not to be trusted.” “I’m not.” “Then you’re incompetent. Which is worse.”

Perfect, intricate and all mine. “I didn’t do this,” I whispered as the accusations tightened around my neck. “I don’t even understand half of these words.” Sarah just lifted one of her brows, titling her head to the side. “Oh really?” "I’m innocent!" I cried, the effort causing another fit of coughing. I leaned over, blood spattering onto the metal table. "I’m sick, Sarah. Look at me! I'm not even disposed to take care of myself talk more of being capable of pulling such a high level fraud like that!”

Trust me, I used to feel happy too—until that night. I realized that when a man calls a woman innocent, he means she’s easy to fool. It’s not a compliment. Being a good girl is such a harsh scam. It’s often used for women who get taken advantage of, and my heart ached for them—and for myself. I’d rather be known as a cunning bitch now than be called innocent and sweet. “Lavender, you’re starting to make me angry,” he hissed, and I stopped walking. “Easton! Fuck off,” I bent down to the level of his window and yelled right in his face.

To survive as long as necessary in order to find that escape path. To…to make my enemies trust me enough to drop their guard. To convince them that I’m not a threat. Even if in my heart I want to rip every single one of their hearts from their bodies and set them all ablaze. Well. Maybe not Pippa’s. But my horrible mate’s – his for sure. Slowly I inhale, knowing precisely what Faiza would tell me to do. Play dead, Cream Puff, she’d say, giving me that patented wink, her feet propped up on her desk. Let think you’re as stupid and vapid as they want you to be. And then when the time comes?

Oscar was flabbergasted. “My name is Fay Willmer, perhaps you should be reminded,” Fay added. Oscar tried to look understanding. She cleared her throat briefly before returning to persuasion. “Well, until it is proven that you are Alice Barney, I will call you Miss Willmer.” “There’s nothing to prove, Mr. Finch. You’d better get out of here. Although I don’t know what tricks are really in your head, I know that people like you cannot be trusted.” Oscar silently clenched his hands into fists, until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t think it would be difficult to convince such a stupid-looking girl. Usually, money would make people ignore everything else. Even the truth, just close your eye

"That's why we're here." Feign looked at him properly then. Silas knew what he was seeing — an older man. Sixty-something, silver at his temples, a face that had been weathered by more years and more winters than Feign could probably imagine. Nothing about him screamed dangerous. Nothing about him said be careful. That was also intentional. Silas had spent decades perfecting the art of looking like the least threatening person in any room. "You said on the phone that you could help me," Feign said, keeping his voice low. "With Addison."

Hayden pinched his palm and inhaled deeply to feign calmness. Hayden knew Zenos didn't keep tabs on him, so there’s no way they’re thinking the same thing! Zenos' hand itched to spank the innocent-feigning boy. Still, daring to continue feigning in Zenos’ presence? "Craving to get smacked? Still, daring to feign innocence? You think you weren't speaking your thoughts out?" Zenos scowled in anger. Hayden broke into a sweat. However, he tilted his head and continued feigning innocence, even though he was beginning to sweat miles. "Eh, speak what? What thoughts? Playing a mind reader..."

He then leans in and whispers, “You're not getting away with that little snicker.” With an innocent gaze, I assure him, “I haven't done anything wrong.” Neo leans in close, his voice barely a whisper as he teasingly remarks, “Don't even try to fool us with that innocent look, sweetheart. We all see through it, knowing very well that you're far from innocent. If you're hoping for some dick tonight, I suggest you show some proper behavior.” With a mischievous smirk, he slowly retreats, leaving me with a lingering sense of anticipation, causing a soft whimper to escape my lips.

His face turned blue as he scolded, "Can you be a bit more incompetent? You dare to come here and complain without investigating properly!" Shifting blame is the first step in framing the innocent. Ben, lying on the ground after being kicked, looked extremely innocent. It wasn't that he didn't investigate properly. Mr. Wordsworth had instructed him to monitor Miss, and he had only reported when he found out that the security had followed the wrong person. How could he have known that Mr. Wordsworth would be absent from meetings and rush to catch Heloise without giving him time to investigate? Feeling thoroughly wronged, Ben didn't dare to speak. He quickly stood up from the ground, retreated