Novelas y relatos de Oops，i Faked My Way Into Nobility

Jase acted like he is cleaning his ear with his finger. “Are you guys serious with your endearment? Mr. Fuenter? Ms.Croven?” Olivia burst out in laughter and held her stomach. The fudge? What’s wrong with these two? “You guys are weird.” I blurted and turned on my back again to head to my car. “You picked a nice call sign, dude.” I heard Jase teased Erwan. “You think so? I spent sleepless nights to practice calling her babe but calling her Ms. Croven seems much natural to me.” he giggled.

“Why are you calling him Mr. Caleb? You should call him your precious son.” As he joked, he kept watching my face, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t say anything. But our classmates crowded around us, gasping and shouting. Phone cameras were already raised, their lenses flashing under the lights. “Oh my God, Caleb Moore, isn’t that your family’s housekeeper, Mrs. Zimmer?” “The real heir and the fake heir have been right next to us this whole time?” “Hurry, record this!” Countless looks of disgust landed on me. It was as if I really were the fake heir from some drama, the one who had stolen someone else’s place and used his parents’ love to get away with anything.

I was sitting alone at the empty dining table when my phone buzzed. It was an anonymous text. No name, just a picture and a message. The picture was of Albert’s hand, a hand I knew better than my own. But the laurel wreath tattoo symbolizing our mate bond had been altered—a tiny letter ‘M’ was now etched into the design. The message read: All I had to do was ask, and he let me leave my mark on him. Another message came through. So what if the ceremony is fake? He told me that in his heart, I’m his chosen one.

“It’s good you trust me with this.” The lie rolled off my tongue like silk. I signed the paper. My name was fake. Everything about me was fake. But my signature looked perfect. It flowed across the line like I had done it a hundred times before. Norman nodded and stood up. His guards followed him immediately, sharp and silent. Everything about their movement felt rehearsed, like a scene in a horror movie. I stood too, adjusting my shirt and fixing my expression.

I grab the arm rest, my eyes hovering around the room as nothing of what he said was registered in my head. “You need a visa. You have 42 days before Immigration throws you out.” His arms were on my trembling thighs, his fingers drew circles on them. “I need a strategist the League can’t ban. And I need the press off my back.” “So we use each other.” It was so cold, so logical, so Rhys and I bite my lips to stop a moan. “Fake dating,” he declared with a sided smile “That’s the legal loophole. League can’t touch a ‘girlfriend’ sitting in my box. Can’t call it tampering if you’re dating the Captain.”

Only now, there were no secrets…. There was no denying I had missed my friends. I just hoped they missed me, and could forgive me. I nodded. “I think you may be right.” “Nico is now married with a young baby. And Freddie has just taken a chosen mate. So there would no doubt a lot to catch up on. I am sure the two of them would be delighted to know you have found a chosen mate too.” Dad said with a smile, as he glanced toward Presley. A chosen mate... Of course, that was what they believed she was. A wave of guilt flooded through me. I suddenly felt bad for lying. They had no clue that what they believed was nothing but a created story to gain my own way…

"That's the truth, isn't it? Why aren't you looking at me? Look here, bro! I am correct, ain't I?" Leaning forward, I caught the guilty expression on Alaric's face. I collapsed back on the seat and burst out laughing. "Oh, my God! This is so funny. Look at the pot calling the kettle black. I can't believe it. Ha-ha!" "Shut up!" he roared. I clapped provocatively. "Big bro! We are more alike than you care to admit. You took on a fake name just to get into that house, didn't you? Ha-ha-ha!

Every word of it is a lie. Adrian’s network had worked quickly. The new identity was flawless. A degree from Oxford, a series of research fellowships, and vague references to government contracts. A fake inbox, filled with emails and glowing recommendations from nonexistent institutions. A staff badge from the Society, cold and official, her new name pressed into her hand by an operative she had never met. Isabella ran her thumb over the embossed logo, steeling herself for what was to come.

“After something like this, your foster parents will definitely think you embarrassed them, and they’ll throw you out. “I’ll marry Peter, and everything will be just like in the dream.” After saying that, she suddenly messed up her hair, let water drip down her body, reddened her eyes, and rushed out. I sensed danger and hurried after her. The moment I stepped out, four or five reporters blocked the door with cameras and recorders. Flash after flash lit up both of us. So she had already set a trap, and she had been waiting for me to fall for it. Vicky turned back with a triumphant smirk, then instantly switched into a dramatic victim.

“How else would you have survived your mother’s lethal glares, the ladies’ attempts to fix your single status, and all the juicy gossip about your thrilling private life?” “Oh, I don’t know, darling. It wouldn’t be that hard,” he echoed, smirking. “I’d just say I pined for a dazzling socialite—Aurora, the charming lady who broke my heart in that one unforgettable night of passion…” “Oh no, you don’t!” I gasped in mock outrage. “Don’t you dare make up corny stories about me! At least make it exciting—like how the brave Aurora swooped in to save you from the blazing dessert—!”