Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

“For now.” “Keep driving,” I say. My voice is harder than I intend it to be. I can’t afford to sound afraid. Not when they’re watching me. We find ourselves in a deserted basement parking lot under some old office house. The air is smelling of oil and rain. Leo kills the engine. There is a heavy silence between us. Carina’s the first to speak. “Dante… who are these people?” I stalling, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I have long been evading this fact. “They’re not police. They’re hired guns. And the man that sent them... his name Lorenzo DeVane.

My jaw dropped. "Not exactly, but it was a nice surprise." "Is there some woman in this zip code whom you haven't slept with?" "Pfft, sure thing." He shoveled cubed chicken into his mouth, resting his elbows against the table. "First of all, there's you." He gestured toward me. "And I just scraped through Forty-Fourth Street and Fourth Ave." "I don't believe I'm saying this"—I attacked my juicy steak—" but I feel somewhat sorry about cockblocking you."

Has he been playing me all along, just so I up their benefits? Someone's at the door. This must be the news I have been waiting for. Tell me Lucinda is dead. That is the only news I want right now. I fidget in my position as I watch the guy kneel with a disturbed look. It can't be bad news, right? “Don Zealot, number four has fallen. The Caprios laid an ambush for us, and everyone is gone. I only managed to escape because…” What is this person saying? Who is number four? What ambush?

Rocky burst into laughter, his belly shaking with amusement. “I’m dying of laughter!” Edward and the two staff members were stunned, their minds reeling as if struck by lightning. They couldn't believe their ears. Rocky was calling Frederick—and addressing him as Mr. Lester! They knew each other! Edward's hair stood on end, his whole body trembling. “You useless idiots! You’ve called someone who’s in cahoots with the enemy!” The two staff members looked ashen and sweated nervously. “Rocky is the most powerful underground figure around here, known as one of the Four Great Crime Lords in Centropolis. How were we to know that this country bumpkin knew him?”

I faced the sea of cameras and started. "The story begins with a sleeping bag rated for forty below. My brother gave it to me when I got engaged. It was supposed to keep me alive. But that night, my fiancé, Melvin Dunn, handed it to Sally Blom—the one pretending to be fragile." My eyes flicked to Sally's pale face. "He told me I was strong enough to last. But even the strongest body is still flesh and blood. When my feet went numb, when the cold twisted my mind, I begged for help. He called me 'dramatic,' told me to 'think about the team.'"

he said. She looked up. “Yes?” “Is he registered?” Elijah asked. “No,” she said. She did not look surprised. “Some people attend after seeing flyers or hearing about us from someone else. They come in waves sometimes. They disappear in waves too.” “He said he lied to get in.” She nodded once. “He did. Some people lie because they are not ready to speak the truth yet.” “He unsettled the group.” She tilted her head. “Especially you.” Elijah did not deny it. “He was loud.”

“Sonnet, do you know about Harbor City’s Big Four?” “Yes, I know about them. What’s the matter?” “My cousin saw Hayden Gunn, who’s part of Harbor City’s Big Four, in North City!”

Both humiliated and enraged, Tiffany lunged at Fabian only to be kicked down without mercy. This outcome was no surprise to me. This ending was of her own making. As for this monster Fabian, he must be severely punished. “Chief Commissioner Walker, beyond these financial crimes, I believe he’s the ringleader behind the loan-sharking assault cases from years ago.” The room went dead silent. The bravado on Fabian’s face vanished. “Matthew Hunt, don’t you dare slander me!” I let out a cold laugh and took out my phone. I played a section of the audio clip that I had been recording since the beginning.

With one final grimace in my direction, Rowan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and swept her out of the building. My head was already hurting, and it had nothing to do with the rising din of voices around me. Just a few hours ago, I was a human living in suburbia with a family who treated me like a servant—not a fantastical creature from a storybook who was the center of attention. And just a few hours ago, I had one boyfriend, Daniel. Even if he cheated on me with my stepsister, there was only one. Not three “mates”. “Four,” the voice in my head corrected me. “You have four mates, although the fourth isn’t here tonight. I wonder who he could be…”

He’d want blood after I tried to bleed his accounts dry. The paranoia follows me all the way back to Brooklyn. I check every corner of the brownstone once I’m inside. Empty. Silent. I send a quick text to Phoebe just to ensure she hasn't been snatched off the street. She answers with a string of emojis and another reminder about my ribs. I head to my room, halfway undressed for a shower, when my phone buzzes. It’s Lydia “LIL” Moretti. “Zli,” she rasps, her voice smoky from years of undercover work. “Tell me the rumors are wrong.”