Romans & histoires Perfect Liar

The ultimate failure of a carefully structured lie isn't that it lacks logic; it is that it creates a home so perfectly sterile, so devoid of real human flaws, that the man living inside it eventually begins to choke on the artificial air and wanders into the freezing dark just to remember what the truth feels like.

Perfect employs the flawed logic of a math teacher who accepts homework that could have been copied off of each other, just as long as it shows the right equation. One clever guy cut and pasted an image of Salvador Dali’s melting clocks to represent the habit of unpunctuality (“Wait lang”) he had developed after he got addicted to computer games. Yssy pasted images of wine bottles, pills, a car crash and prison with an accompanying backstory that’s actually stolen from Lindsay Lohan’s life. Another guy (Nathan) was more truthful and posted a picture of an arguing man and woman.

He asked again and honestly, I was annoyed with his trivial questions but amused by the way Philips was reacting. “No. I have never been there. What is this? Are you trying to investigate me or something? I won’t say anything without a lawyer,” Philips adamantly refused but his gaze was that of a worried man. I smirked and stood from my seat and walked towards him. “You know what Philips, there are different kinds of liars. The ones who lie to protect their family, the ones who lie for their personal interest, the ones who are good at lying, and the ones who suck at it, and you, my dear sir, are terrible at lying,” I said with a smirk and folded my hands. Phillips gulped and an idea popped i

"Romano." Noah and Michael froze, their eyes on her. Romano chuckled. "I wanted you to understand what happens to traitors." Her mind was back to Leo's body, the blood spreading around him. "That was sloppy," she said coldly. "You're usually more. refined." Romano buzzed with hum. "I didn't need refinement. Only a reminder. You can't win, Lena." Lena sat back, attempting to be calm. "If you were so sure, you wouldn't be calling."

she asked her friend, who was already lying on the couch as if he was going to spend the rest of the night there. - "Everyone wants to be him and everyone wants to be his" the cliché touch in the answer was intentional. - "This is bad?" she thought about it. - "Not really. He's the type that would make a perfect match with you, if he wasn't such a womanizer" despite the comment being a baseless realistic hypothesis, Lora thought about it.

His proud thick eyebrows are creased, and his lips are thinned. His eyes. I gasped. Those blue eyes which stares at me with so much love and sincerity. Those cunning blue eyes, which made me drown in a beautiful fantasy. His eyes, which seemed to tell a wonderful story every time he stares at me. It was eyes of a liar. I burst in tears as I looked at Jacob. I cupped my mouth, trying to suppress my sobs. He's no different from Dylan. He's also a liar. He's also an evil.

Or something. "She's not my mother either," I said. "Is she?" Lin didn't answer. "Three blinks. Three taps. Three babies. But not triplets." I sat beside her. "What did she do?" Lin's voice came small. Young. The voice I remembered from childhood. Before the manipulation. Before the games. "She wanted a perfect child. First baby—me—had the mark. The lip. Imperfect." She touched her own scar. "Second baby—you—stolen. Tested. Wrong blood type. Not compatible."

Bianca let out a cold laugh, like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "Still chasing him?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Give it up, Viviana. I know you're jealous that he chose me, but making up lies like this is just pathetic." "I'm not lying." I stared straight into her eyes. "The Feds, the other families... they're going to be all over his lab. You'll go down with him as an accomplice—" "Enough!" Bianca shot to her feet. "Viviana, you're a real disappointment. I thought you'd at least have the decency to accept that you lost."

Chloe had provoked a dying woman until her heart gave out. And Julian? He had stood on the wrong side. He had stood against the woman he claimed to love, ruthlessly shoving her away. He hadn't even glanced at the jagged wound on Elara's back before walking out with her tormentor. The last of his strength evaporated. Julian collapsed onto the floor, his hand shaking so violently he could barely hold his phone. "I’m sorry, Elara... I was wrong. It’s all my fault." "Please... just pick up the phone."

she said with concern written in her voice. I nodded as I waved an assuring smile. “Yes, I’m okay.” “Then what was that about Damian claiming that you were his?” She asked. “Promise you won’t freak out.” I pleaded and she nodded. “You know that stuff I said about being sold off to a billionaire…blah blah.” I said and she nodded correspondingly. I paused, “that was about me.” She didn’t react. More like she didn’t understand. “I’m being sold off to Damian Cooper as a slave in the disguise of a bride!” I said.