Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

“But take it from me, your good buddy. Money makes the world go round. What good is your academic prowess? If I hadn’t gotten married, then you wouldn’t even be allowed in this hotel! “Those girls you looked down on back then? You can’t even lick their boots now. This is where I’m better than you because I’m marrying a good wife, and I can walk sideways in Cirrus. “But hey, don’t get discouraged. When you see my wife later, I’ll get you a job as a security guard at Jefferson Corp.” I stared at him coldly. The higher he preened, the harder he’d crash. Just then, my phone rang. The funeral wreaths had arrived.

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.”

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?”

༺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.

I know I'm not a tall person and the fact that I wasn't wearing any heels today made it horrible. Maybe you just look pretty today. My inner conscience whispered to me, but I knew that was a lie. Wait a minute! What if there were residues of batter lying lazily on my hair because I have murdered many of its comrades? Nah, I took a shower before I left the house. Deciding to ignore the stares, I tried hailing a cab. After three failed attempts at hailing one due to how the streets of New York are always so busy, I finally got one on my fourth attempt.

“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.

Louis acted as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. He pulled a paper from his coat pocket and slapped it onto the desk in front of me with a loud smack. It was unmistakably a marriage license. Stamped right there on the license were their names.