Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

A large hand reached across the leather seat. Noah snatched the phone right out of my grip. "Hey!" I gasped. He hit the lock button, making the screen go black. He didn't even look at the video. He just stared at me. "Instead of worrying about your friend's fake internet life," Noah said, his voice dangerously low, "you should figure out your next lie." My stomach dropped. "What do you mean?" Noah tossed the phone onto the empty seat between us. "My men gave me a very interesting report tonight. A group of Iron Vultures was seen lurking around Pier 4."

As soon as he saw me, he ran toward me and exclaimed, "Noelle, I've missed you so much." I instinctively stepped back, and his hand froze midair. Maybe life in prison had been hard on him. He looked shrunken now, with his back hunched. Smiling bitterly, he said, "I know I don't deserve forgiveness… and I'm not here to ask for it either. I just wanted to see whether you're doing well." "Well, now you've seen it," I said, spreading my hands. "I'm doing great." Julian smiled. "Great. By the way, I'm leaving this city. Everything that happened was my fault. From now on, take care of yourself."

He said I was a rotten liar, but it was Rylan who lied! "Today, Dad chased me out of my room and made me live in the stairwell. The stairwell is so dark and cold. I'm so scared, but I'm also afraid Dad will get even angrier if I say anything. Will Dad stop being mad if I keep being a good boy? Will he stop blaming me?" …

" New York. Under different circumstances, Jill would have given anything to be here, here in this metropolis, where life pulsated. How she would have liked to have thrown herself into the nightlife, to see a play on Broadway, to drive up the Empire State Building. The Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Central Park, all places she would have loved to visit - preferably with Craig. But on the one hand her time was too short for it, on the other hand she didn't feel like it after all the events. So after arriving that night, she crept into her room at the elegant Empire Hotel and tried to sleep. Before that she had called Walter and told him about the latest developments, and he had once again

he managed to ask, barely hearing his own voice. The attorney took out a stack of documents and dropped them on the table. He picked two from them and held in his hands. “You have been linked to a drug and arms trafficking cartel in the Chicago and you have also been linked to a syndicate that operates all over the country with an office in New York. Something about the deep four.” the attorney stated and he Damian stared at him in shock. How did they find out about the deep four? “D-eep four?” he stammered.

*** Upper East Side, New York Alessandra The nightmare assailed me, its ruthless claws digging deep into my sub conscious as I felt the fear poison my veins. It had been a blissful four months since I had the displeasure of experiencing the familiar and unpleasant peak of my heartbeat and the swirl of darkness that seemed to chill my body to the bone.

I say. My phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. Pier 47. Midnight. Come alone, or the boy dies. I show the message to Asher, whose face goes even darker. "Pier 47," he says quietly. "That's not just a trap. That's a death sentence." "Why?" "Because it's completely isolated. No witnesses, no escape routes. They can kill us all and dump the bodies in the harbor." "So what do we do?" "We change the game. They want to play with fire? Let's show them what happens when you threaten a mafia boss's family."

I sighed deeply, I don't want to lie anymore to people that trusted me and we're sincere to me, I have already made enough mistake and I'll be a fool to make more “Hi, are you okay?” “Sure” I smiled “So I'm going to start with my name, my name is Freggo, I'm a NewYorkian, I'm 33 years old and I'm here because I'm a bad guy” I muttered and looked at her but she was just staring back and listening attentively.

"Want to know what I actually do?" "I... what?" "I run this city. The parts people don't like to talk about. The dangerous parts." His smile was sharp. Predatory. "You hired a fucking call boy and got a mafia boss instead. How's that for irony?" The room tilted. "You're lying," Lia whispered.

A year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of watching the world from behind a stranger's face. Adrian stared out his penthouse window at the sprawling grid of New York City, a metropolis of light and life that felt as gray and desolate as a graveyard. This face, this body, was a choice—a desperate, last-ditch effort to claw his way back from the abyss.