Four Faced Liar Nyc Novels & Stories

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.

The city twinkled and glistened in a brilliant aura of lights, a magic carpet embedded with jewels on my feet. I stood at an open view deck on the 72nd floor of The Shard, Europe's tallest building, the wind blowing my hair as I stared down at London. Four days were coming to an end. Tomorrow, we leave for New York. Back to the regularity after four beautiful days that I spend with Liam. It's throwing me away as to how much I love him. It's just weird. For how long have I even know him? Doesn't love need time? But then I guess, the whole concept of love was weird anyway. And ambiguous as well.

New York was a wound that never healed. It smelled of exhaust, wet concrete, and fried food that had been sitting too long. A city that chewed through people, then spit out their bones on the sidewalks. Perfect cover for me. I was hunting a man who thought he was untouchable—a kingpin who traded women like currency, who wore his cruelty like a designer suit. I’d been watching him for weeks. I had his routine memorized down to the minute. At 11:15 he stepped outside to smoke. At 11:28 his runner dropped an envelope. At 11:33 he checked his phone to make sure the alley camera still worked.

Four Years Later I’d been in New York for exactly theree week and so far: I hadn’t even opened my second suitcase. I’d consumed more espresso than hours of sleep. I’d made one client cry, one opposing attorney puke, and got a court assistant to save my number. All in all, a promising start.

This is how an innocent act of kindness turns into a game of power, betrayal, and manipulation. It’s 4 p.m. in New York City, and the East Side of Harlem moves in current. Cars are honking and people bustling, and I blend in perfectly with the crowd on the sidewalk, with my delivery bag filled with orders of takeout hanging over my shoulder and my face hat over my head blocking the view of the setting sun. I walk with a destination in mind.

I replied, my voice far steadier than I felt. He stood up. Slowly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “I didn’t expect to see you here either.” I laughed once, brittle and humorless. “Miami’s smaller than I thought.” He nodded, but his eyes never left mine. “Four years.” “Four and some change, but who is counting?.” There was a long pause and the room suddenly was too bright, the air too still. I clutched my portfolio like it could shield me. “I had no idea this company was yours.”

His hand covered mine big and warm thumb stroking my knuckles. "You ready to go back to New York?" he asked quietly. I sighed resting my cheek on his shoulder. "Honestly no," I said. "I love my friends there. I love the career I built. But if I’m being truthful with myself I’d rather be anywhere else. New York feels like a graveyard of memories. Good ones that hurt now. Bad ones that still cut. I’m scared the second I step foot in that city all the trauma will rush back and swallow me whole."

“And bring drinks. Five.” He raised an eyebrow. “Five?” “Yes.” I didn’t blink. “Five.” He muttered something about crazy women but walked off. I sat there, palms flat on the table, pulse steady. Every second stretched thin. Three minutes. That’s all it took. The door opened. Four silhouettes cut through the smoke and light - broad shoulders, leather jackets, wolves wrapped in human skin. Their voices died the second they saw me. Maddox’s grin faltered. Calder’s eyes narrowed. Jax tilted his head like he wasn’t sure if I was real. And Rafe - he just stopped moving, a flicker of shock breaking his hard mask.

My family believed in democracy. Every decision was settled by a family vote. Dad, Mom, my brother Dylan Conley, and my sister Tessa Conley each got one vote. So did I. The problem was, four against one meant I never won. During my junior year of high school, my brother wanted a new computer. The vote was four to one. The money I'd saved for three years of tutoring was gone. In senior year, when it was time to submit college applications, I earned early admission to Northbridge University, but Tessa cried and said she couldn't stand the thought of me moving so far away. So the family held another vote. Dad pinned my application form beneath his hand. "Majority rules. You're going to

What the hell? This can’t be! I’m probably seeing wrong, they just look alike. I gulped, looking away. “Are you okay?” Frank whispered close to me, his hand gently rubbing my palm. I slowly looked at him, forcing a smile on my face. “Of course.” I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. “I just hurt my nail,” I lied, picking up my purse while avoiding looking at him. “Uncle Frank!” The young man cheered, walking towards us, my body shook from his presence, I could feel the hair on my skin rise in both excitement and fear.