Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

Thеrе’ѕ аlwауѕ a demand аnd nо rеаѕоn tо ѕhut dоwn ѕuсh a luсrаtіvе gаmе by сhоісе. New Yоrk іѕ one of the worst trаffісkіng jurіѕdісtіоnѕ in thе country. I hеаr thаt girls аѕ young as thіrtееn аrе bеіng sent tо wоrk. It makes mе ѕісk, аnd thе ѕсеnt оf Jеѕѕuр Lее floats іnѕіdіоuѕlу аt every turn.

Connor “Where the fuck could she have gone?” I swear as I run out of the gym after the manager told me she wasn’t there. I look at my phone and look through the tracker before connecting it to one of my hacking tablets. Within moments the monitor in my tablet goes off, pinpointing April’s location. My brow furrows. She’s in the Port Authority subway. It’s heading to Bedford-Stuyvesant. Why the fuck would she go to such a rough neighborhood?”

“Guess my gut was right. It would be a real shame if the world found out who you really are, Phoebe.” My blood turned to ice. I pulled away from Hayden. “Lily, stop!” Hayden snapped. “Leave us alone.” “Oh? I’m just being honest with the world. A star male gamer who’s actually a girl? What a juicy little scandal.” “Get the hell out of here. I’m done with your drama.” “I’m not finished yet.” Suddenly, Adonis, Finley, and Zion stormed through the rooftop door. “What the hell’s going on?” Adonis demanded, eyes locking onto Lily.

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.

My eyes fixed on that single, haunting sentence: LIQUIDATION INCOMPLETE. "Who is he, Franco?" My voice was a low, dangerous vibration. I didn't look up. I kept my gaze locked on the grainy photograph of us, slowly tracing the blood – red GPS coordinates with my manicured nail. "Who is the man who thinks he can initiate a 'Phase Four' in my city?"

And Dylan left so many debts, and now those loan sharks and businessmen he owed are haunting me now. “Jacob is protecting you, that is why those people aren't coming to you,” Shane heaved a sigh. I bit my lower lip. I was staring at nothing. Jacob did so many things for me. He really cares, but I still forgive him, and forget everything. He lied to me, and I freaking hate liars to death. Rachel gently grabbed my hands. “What's your plan, Sammy?” I shook my head. “I don't know. I will think about it.”

By chance, Fate, or just the divine intervention of Zeus, I ended up with this incredible man who is hot, great in bed, and so damn sweet. I still don’t know how, in the thousands of men that live in NYC, after only finding assholes, I found such a keeper. And trust me, I know all about the assholes that live in NYC. Between the assholes I met in college, like Alden Zachery Greenwood the Fourth. Insert snort and eye roll here. And massive line-crossing creeps like Trevor Hildebrant. I am beyond lucky to have Clay.

༺RAYNE༻ Liam takes me from city hall to his house, a ridiculously huge mansion in the upper east side of New York City, the part of town where only the super-duper rich people live. I can't stop myself from staring at the place. It's breathtaking. “If you're done gawking, you can come inside now.” Liam's irritating voice ruins the moment for me. Ugh! He's so annoying and so arrogant! I roll my eyes at his back and stick my tongue out when he's not looking. He walks ahead of me while his bodyguard is just right behind me like a big, burly watchdog.

“This guy is…” My voice trailed off when I looked at him. Standing in a transparent office with a coffee mug in his left hand and a bagel in his right was the man I saw last night. His attention was on the two officers addressing him. I read out the words emblazoned on the door of his office and gasped — LIEUTENANT JOEL HARPER. My hands moved on instinct and took out the card he'd left me last night. It didn't say NYPD. Instead, it said SPIDER LILY. Holy shit.

He stepped forward and kicked Lance. "You think you deserve her forgiveness? Look at yourself. You're not even worth the dirt on her shoes." Lance hit the floor hard, but somehow still managed to kneel before me, trembling. "Alana, please," he gasped. "I have no way out. If you don't help me, they'll kill me." I looked down at him—pathetic, broken. Natasha had set him up perfectly. She'd emptied her own accounts, then convinced him to take out a two-million loan in her name, promising it was for business. Now, even the interest was crushing him.