Oops，i Faked My Way Into Nobility Novels & Stories

I wanted to run away, but that would only seal my fate. No, the Queen had given me the chance to redeem myself. I had to take it. I had to be my most regal self for the rest of the evening, to appear a perfect Luna. I didn’t really know how to be anyone other than myself, but surely I could fake it until I made it, right? I had enough practice being around nobility. Immediately, I squared my shoulders and lifted my head high. Watching me, Nicholas’s brow pulled together. “What are you doing?”

"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—!”

"Call the cops? Go ahead." I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. "You have me arrested, and the whole city instantly finds out Cassandra ditched her marriage and hired a body double." "The great heir to the Sinclair Group, played for a fool by a knockoff this whole time." "I've even got the headline ready: 'SHOCKER: Billionaire Heir Falls Victim to Body-Double Honey Trap. Is This the Twisting of Human Nature, or the Collapse of All Morality?!'" Julian took a deep breath, the vein on his forehead twitching.

“What? You don’t want to talk about your miracle child? The one that doesn’t exist?” The room stirred, like a beast waking. Men leaned in, whispers hissing like snakes. Giovanni spread his hands. “Yes, it seems young Jack here thought he could fool us all. Pretending to secure an heir, buying a baby like one buys a purebred dog. Paying off doctors to fake DNA results. Quite the scheme. Almost clever.” There were gasps here and there. A low laugh from one end of the table. And Jack’s face went red, then pale, then blank with rage and shame.

“Eliza invited me to come tonight.” The tall man smiles sexily as his eyes scan me up and down. “What’s your name, miss?” Ah, shit. What is my name? I can’t go with my real one. Umm. “Vivienne Jones,” I reply calmly. The doormen all exchange looks and smile warmly. “Welcome, Miss Vivienne.” One purrs. I push out a grateful smile, satisfied that they fell for it. I feel a surge of excitement that nobody questioned my fake name. Vivienne Jones—that’s pretty cool to be honest. I like it.

"Outside the box, Paul roared, his voice resonating uncannily across the concourse. He held up the poster board. It displayed a shabby Photoshopped picture of Scarlett and Jett with the words "FAKE! THE DEBT OF HER FIRM! SCHEME FOR HER MOTEL! HIS DESPERATION FOR A CAREER!"Bullet points with altered email excerpts and false financial data were placed beneath the text, all of which were intended to paint Jett as an unsuspecting celebrity and Scarlett as a desperate, cunning opportunist.

I was clueless. All I could grasp was something about some kind of scam, one of those fake marriages they do with foreigners just to get a blue passport, that’s why he has a fake name. Well, Enzo left. The rest of the boys threw cash at me, the notes scattering across the floor. I stood up, my legs trembling so badly I could barely stay upright. I tried to steady myself, gripping the edge of the coffee table to stay upright. “Damn, Looks like we destroyed redhead pussy real good,” Pink Tip muttered.