Perfect Liar Romane & Geschichten

Due to my husband's unique status, I did not reveal his identity to my mother after we secretly married. My family was about to be relocated during the holidays, and I took the opportunity to visit my hometown. When I got home, my mother locked me in my stepbrother's room. I questioned my mother about it, and she said, "We're about to be relocated. If you get pregnant, the baby will be counted as an extra person. We'll be compensated with one more house and millions of dollars extra." I begged my mother to release me, but she said that it was better for me to stay in the family than marry into another one. "You and your brother aren't related, anyway. We can even save on dowry." I refused, so my mother got my brother to beat me up until I bled. As the date for the entire town to relocate approached, the developers arrived to distribute the compensation. My husband was among those who arrived. When he saw my bruised cheeks and the bump on my stomach, he went crazy.

On day two of Matthew's so-called business trip, I was wiping down the counter when I said, "Auri, play some music." Instead of music, a syrupy voice chirped, "Sure thing, my Baby Moon. Oh, and Matthew, don't forget Bibi's birthday surprise tonight." I froze. The speaker blasted some random playlist, but all I heard was 'Bibi.' Matthew Kein was my husband. So who the hell was Bibi? I called him. "Did you mess with our smart speaker?" A beat of silence, then his fake laugh. "Oh, a buddy dropped by. Probably logged his account in. Why?" I laughed back like I bought it, then hung up. Two taps later, I was scrolling the login history, already hailing a cab to the company tied to that mystery account.

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."

The holidays are almost here, and yet I've chosen to burn down the mushroom greenhouse, which has generated millions of profits that can sustain my family's livelihood. As I stare at the blazing inferno, my heart is as calm as a still lake. In my previous life, I had a grand haul of mushrooms after devoting my blood, sweat, and tears into cultivating throughout the year. When I was about to sell them, Sarah Clarkson, my husband's childhood friend, came knocking on my doorstep. Apparently, she wanted to get about 30 pounds' worth of mushrooms so that she could give them away as holiday gifts. Having taken her relationship with my husband, Dominic Kane, into consideration, I didn't hesitate to pack up the mushrooms and give them to Sarah. Little did I know that I'd receive the news of her getting poisoned the next day. Not only that, but Sarah even started a live stream and started berating me for selling the mushrooms. "I've already consulted the fungi experts, Hazel! Apparently, the mushrooms you've given me contain lethal poison! "Thank goodness I'm the one who found out about this! If not, I can't imagine just how many people would've been poisoned by your mushrooms once they got out!" I tried to defend myself, but Dominic was quick to produce the so-called solid evidence. "I thought you were just joking about wanting to plant cheap, poisonous mushrooms. I didn't think you'd stick to your word!" At that moment, the viewers lashed out at me so much that I went viral. Later on, I got forcibly taken away by the police so that they could proceed with the investigation. The results completely stunned me. It turned out that the mushrooms I had spent so long cultivating were actually poisonous! After leaving the police department, I found out that all of my savings were already siphoned by Dominic, who then used it to pay off Sarah's medical bills. He also filed for a divorce, stating that I was a woman with poor character. Left with nothing under my name, I was completely dazed and delirious. In the end, I collapsed and died on the street. When I open my eyes, I've returned to the day before the grand mushroom haul. That's when I decide to torch all the mushrooms. But this time, Sarah still gets poisoned for some reason.

On my thirtieth birthday, Gideon Salton told me to meet him at city hall. He made sure I wore a wedding dress and brought my papers, hyping it up as a huge birthday surprise. But when I showed up, all dressed up, he turned to his trashy crew and laughed. "No way—she actually did it. Dress, docs, the whole thing. Pay up, fifty bucks each." Then he looked at me. "Come on, Madison. You didn't seriously fall for that?" I didn't answer. He smirked. "If you're that thirsty to get hitched, go inside and grab some rando to register with." His friends cracked up. They called me Gideon's loyal simp, his forever backup plan. Said I'd never end up with anyone else. But when I came out with my husband and a legit marriage certificate, Gideon just froze—pale, silent, wrecked.

I spent five years pursuing Derick Tucker before we finally set a wedding date. But in the 100 days leading up to it, he was off partying all over the place, barely showing his face. The night before the wedding, he said he was going to a bachelor party and never came home. Instead, I got a message from a girl he knew from college. It was a photo of them in bed together. [Sorry. He went a little too hard last night. Don't expect much from him on your wedding night. [Oh, wait, I forgot. He doesn't even love you. Who knows if he'll even be able to perform? Looks like you can't even settle for my leftovers.] I held up the message and confronted Derick. He didn't even flinch. "She's not wrong. I'm not married until tomorrow. What's the problem with having some fun before that? "You're used goods yourself, and you expect me to stay pure for you? "If you can't handle it, then don't marry me. But can you really walk away?" After humiliating me, he stormed off, convinced I would swallow it like I always did. But this time, I was done. I picked up my phone. "What you said before, about taking responsibility. Does that still stand?"

When my four sons were finally old enough for preschool, I arrived at the school office with my marriage certificate and their birth certificates, ready to sign them up. But the lady at the counter frowned and said, "These documents don't check out. According to the system, your kids don't even exist." I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. I remembered when Sheldon Clem and I got married—he was the one who handled all the paperwork, the birth registrations, everything. I never imagined that when I tracked him down with our four boys, he'd be holding his childhood sweetheart in his arms, with her little girl snuggled against him. And then we heard him sweet-talking her right in front of us. "Don't be mad, babe. I've got everything set up for us overseas. Gigi is going to the most expensive private school, and you'll be living in the nicest penthouse downtown. "Sure, she gave me four sons, but all my love and money are with you. I only kept her around because I felt sorry for her. "What else do you need? My will's already signed. Everything goes to you and Gigi." Riley Anderson pouted, smug and satisfied. "If you don't love her, then she's the other woman, not me. She's got no right to fight me for anything!" So he never went bankrupt. When we got back home, Sheldon acted as if nothing had happened. "Honey, I've found this amazing project overseas, so I won't have time to come home much. I'll need you to hold down the fort at home." I smiled and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." If that was how he wanted to play this, then fine. I'd make sure he really went broke, and then I'd find my boys a new father.

Every day, my son and husband finish all the house chores before I even get home. But only because they're bringing my husband's first love, Sally Sullivan, back for Thanksgiving, I pour boiling water on my son's face. I also kick both my son and husband out when it's 104°F outside. Desperate to save our son, my husband sprawls across the front porch, begging me to open the door. "Wanda, open the door! We need to save our son! I only invited Sally over because she saved you once back then. I didn't mean anything else by it!" "Mom, it hurts!" my son cries. "Mom, can't you kiss me? Mom…" Meanwhile, I'm slouching on the couch, snacking away as I watch TV. In the end, my husband can't take it anymore and brings me to the Bad Mom Court for trial. The moment my memories are extracted, the entire court bursts into tears.

My father-in-law, Luther Smith, got into a car accident and was sent to the emergency room. I called my wife, Meg Smith, who was a lawyer, more than twenty times before she picked up. “What are you doing now? Hugh ran into trouble, and I’m helping him. Please don’t be a nuisance.” I suppressed my feelings and said, "Dad got into a car accident, and he needs a hundred thousand dollars for surgery." However, she believed Hugh’s words instead. She said viciously, “It’s your father who got into the accident. What does it have to do with me? Don’t covet my money for your family. Stop harassing me. I’m busy.” She then quickly ended the call. They did not manage to save Luther, and he died. Three days later, in court, I saw Meg defending Hugh as his defense lawyer for his drunk driving case. She was extremely good at her job, so she managed to win the court case for Hugh due to insufficient evidence. Hugh was acquitted. I was extremely disappointed. After the court session, I asked for a divorce. She started to panic. “My dad is so kind to you. He’ll be very upset if you divorce me!” I sneered and threw the hospital receipt and death certificate at her face. What an idiot. She did not know that she no longer had a father.

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"