Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

The images flashed uninvited in my mind. They made me want to be sick. Naomi’s voice cut through my thoughts again. Dragging me back to the horror. “I won’t let you near them,” she snapped, her finger jabbing at me. “Never.” “They’re all mine.” “As a matter of fact. Not only Alpha Theo and Alpha Harlan. The remaining two alphas are also mine.” I stared at her, stunned. My mouth fell open a little. The four of them…? The quadruplets?

The freezing Atlantic harbor was completely swallowed by a thick, suffocating midnight fog. The air tasted sharply of diesel fuel, rusted iron, and pure, unadulterated desperation. Dante Romano, the untouchable Italian syndicate boss who had confidently sat on Lucian's imported leather sofa just days ago, was violently shivering against the wet, rotting wooden pilings of Pier 44. His custom-tailored suit was ruined by the freezing rain. His slick, dark hair was plastered wildly to his forehead. He wasn't flanked by an army of high-end corporate fixers anymore. He was entirely, pathetically alone.

I felt shamed like Cersei Lannister in later episodes of Game of Thrones. I ducked into the nearest cab. “O’Hare, please. Delta departures.” A week of vacation was exactly what I needed to put my head back on straight. Martin Liebert, aka Slippery Marty as the media nicknamed him, was an investment broker. He had been arrested and charged with raping Leeann Reigns. Other victims had accused him of inappropriate conduct and assault in the workplace. It was his fourth offense like this, the first to go to trial.

*Vivienne* The car finally came to a stop in front of my apartment building and I quickly took a scan of the environment. Nothing much had changed. The building still looked the same. My neighborhood wasn't Beverly hills nor Malibu but it was mostly crime free… Well, not until I was ran into a week ago. “This is where you live?” Liam asked, there was no hint of disgust in his voice, just genuine curiosity. “Yup,” I replied, popping the ‘P’ at the end. “This is me.”

“Why are you here? Who told you to come over?!” Lucy hid behind me and whispered, “Mom, I’m sorry. I cannot lie anymore. This is a crime.”

"The cartel agreed to meet. Tomorrow night. Pier 47. You, me, and Four. No one else." "This is insane. We should bring backup. SWAT. Federal agents." "Then they kill us the moment we arrive. The cartel is giving us a chance. One chance. We take it or we run." "I do not like this." "Neither do I. But we do not have a choice." Four took the news calmly. Too calmly. Like he had passed through fear into acceptance. Veronica held his hand while I explained the plan. Margaret listened from the doorway. Monte played upstairs. Oblivious.

his husky voice came out in a soft hollow. Nicolás rose his eyelids just above the monitor to look at him briefly. "What? Were you expecting some sort of welcome back celebration? Amancio will be more than willing to throw you one at his club.” Jonathan only rolled his eyes. This was Nicolás' typical 'work mode' but he managed to show a little interest in his friend he hadn't seen in four months. He let out a small smile. "So how was Paris?" Jonathan leaned back in the chair, crossing his leg over his thigh. "Ah. . .Nicolás, you know how it is. One business meeting to the other."

Eight years—the best years of my life, wasted on a man who left me covered in scars. "Stand up," I said. "My mother is ashes now. This performance is meaningless. If you’re truly sorry, then go die." I walked away and called the police. After three days in a holding cell, he finally stopped following me. He left a bank card with his entire fortune in my door—I donated every cent to a charity for Omega women.

“Well, um, I’m only asking because I heard you call my name. More than once.” Uh-oh! My face burns with embarrassment. “Are you sure that you heard your name?” “I’m positive,” he says gruffly. “Also, the name Marcel is fairly uncommon.” “There are 8.4 million people in New York City,” I counter swiftly. “I need you to answer this question for me,” he rasps, his eyes darkening and his expression growing serious. I let out a breath. “What question?” “Do you need something from me?” I gulp. “No, I’m good.”

He never showed up, not even when the pack sent people to press me to return. Once again, he'd broken his promise. The next morning, Trey rushed into my place. When he saw me sitting at the breakfast table, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry, Leah. The car had a flat tire shortly after we left, so I couldn't come back to pick you up." I didn't hear a word of his explanation. My gaze was fixed on the faint reddish mark on his neck—an unmistakable sign of a she-wolf's claws. As if determined to tear away the last of the pretense, I reached out to touch that red mark.