Liars Novel Novels & Stories

In himself “Hah. I told Lucian Blackwell a fake sob story of my life and he believed it.” Liam chuckled as he thought about everything he had said to Lucian today. After all, it was all a lie. And he was a devil who lied in each step of power. His past was like a melancholic song. Tragic. Sad. Alone. And Liam Blackwood had no intention to let anyone know of his past. Especially Lucian. *** Hey my loves! How was the chapter guys?

“No. Because I’m tired. Because the people in that book would kill us both to keep their secrets. And because, believe it or not, I’m not interested in dying in a gutter while someone like Rowen keeps his pension.” I held his gaze, trying to find the lie. There wasn’t one. “You think this is enough to bring them down?” “With you? Yes,” he said simply. “You’re the only one who doesn’t flinch when the truth gets ugly.” I looked down at the ledger again. The names in it were rot disguised as law, corruption dressed up in uniforms and robes. This wasn’t just evidence. It was a warhead. “If I take this,” I said, voice low, “you and I—”

“The death of Rueben had indeed been a shock but don't you think it was just random and maybe from a fellow business partner?“ She purred, stepping closer. “And how about Lucien's dead?…Don't be stupid Clarissa, if anything you should be scared because Lovia will surely come for you next.“ I replied her. She rolled her eyes, coming up behind me and resting her hand on my shoulder. “You and I both saw that girl die in the forest Or what was left of it. The fire devoured her… Lovia Diaz is dead, babe.” My fingers curled into a fist, hands trembling slightly. Can't believe she could be this clueless. “I said,” I growled lowly, “ stop lying to yourself.“ Then She blinked, stunned into silence. I

She then pulls out her phone and does exactly that while I stand still, for once not having a clue what to say or how to respond. Ella: We Were Liars sat on my bedside table, finished and ready to find a new home on my bookshelf. My heart kind of broke after reading it, but still, the novel was great nonetheless. I feel like novels that bring out strong emotions in you are the best novels, the ones that you can't put down, the ones that make you laugh out loud, the ones you want to throw across the room and rip out the pages, and lastly the ones that make you cry. Those are ones that truly hit you, render you speechless, and make you think about it for days after.

Chloe looked at the little group that hovered over their laptops and she wondered why they decided to do their boring finances in the library. It was even more annoying that they kept talking at intervals. And it annoyed her even more when they were not having a conversation that could give her a lead. Raising the book in her hand to make it seem like she was still interested in its content, Chloe wondered how on earth Nathaniel's words of them being a family was going to work out. There is Lucille who is always either doing something in her room or throwing dagger glares at her whenever Nathaniel happens to pass by. Amir on the other hand could be in a corner of the house making phone calls

By dawn, his legs were so numb he had to crawl and stumble for half an hour just to stand. He whispered a final, broken apology to the photo and began his descent. He didn't go back to our house. Instead, he visited the dilapidated apartment we shared as young adults—a place where we huddled together on a single bed for warmth, sharing a cheap tin of meat and feeling like we owned the world. He visited the corner cafe where I used to read by the window, and he climbed the ten thousand steps to Lover’s Leap, where he found our faded prayer ribbon: Julian and Elara, Mates Forever. He untied it with trembling hands and tucked it against his heart. It took over a month of burning through every c

He called former partners; they either didn't answer or hung up after a few perfunctory words. Absolutely no one in the industry was willing to work with someone sporting a record of plagiarism and bankrupt credibility. Throughout this entire process, Louis finally saw Flora's true colors. It turned out Flora had no actual skills at all; she was a complete and utter fraud. Her so-called works were all cobbled together by plagiarizing the designs of me and other well-known architects. Because she had repeatedly plagiarized other architects' work, she had long been blacklisted by multiple firms, and could only latch onto Louis through deception.

“Every night I touch myself thinking about you pinning me down. About you telling me to be quiet while you— A soft creak made me freeze. Footsteps. Someone was coming down the aisle. Heart hammering, I quickly folded the letter and shoved it between the pages of my notebook. My fingers were still trembling when I looked up. It was just Mrs. Willow, the librarian, pushing a cart of books. She gave me a small smile and kept moving. I let out a shaky breath and pressed my thighs together under the desk. God, what was wrong with me? Conrad didn’t even know I existed. He was the golden boy—star quarterback, confident, untouchable. And here I was, writing the kind of things that would ruin me if a

Samara gives her the finger as she greedily hooks into her own chocolate thick shake. We spend most of lunch listening to Kiarra's funny stories. She met a few people that were staying in the same hotel and went out partying with them, which apparently was the wildest night of her life. She had us in a fit of laughter as she explained how she ended up naked in the back of a van with some guy named Billy, due to a card game gone wrong. I shake my head at her as I wipe my eyes. She isn't one to be that crazy, which makes it even funnier.

That she had been lying, spying, playing him? God help her. God help them both. ‘Maybe I should fake my own death now,’ she thought wildly. ‘It worked for Shakespeare. I'm an author afterall.’ She shook the thought away, stabbing a piece of pancake with unnecessary violence. The meal dragged on, full of polite small talk so brittle it could have snapped if someone breathed wrong. They were all good at this: pretending. Professional liars, all three of them. Stefano eventually leaned back, wiping his hands with a cloth. "There’s a reason I wanted you both here," he said, looking between them.