Rastros De Mentiras Novels & Stories

Not to mention, a black sunglasses to finish the whole look. She had been making excuses such as: she caught a cold, or she got some allergies and sometimes even she said that this was a new trend she found on I*******m and people believed it. They ought to believe it since I*******m people were following some weird trends these days so why not this. It wasn't even that weird. For the next one week, her melancholy heart subsided a little when she felt Sebastian Rodriguez wouldn't come for a simple girl like her since it was a simple one night stand, would he?

A private hallway, heads bent close. His hand on her back, her face turned toward his. Headlines scream across the images, accusatory and sensational: "Was Flora Hawthorne Always Damien's Partner in Crime?" "The Billionaire's Widow—Or the Mastermind Behind the Betrayal?" "Secret Meetings: What Lucas Arden Doesn't Know" Flora's knees weaken as she sinks into the nearest chair, the phone nearly slipping from her suddenly numb fingers. "They're fake," she whispers, her voice catching. "They have to be fake." But even as she says it, she recognizes locations, clothing she's worn. The craftsmanship is impeccable.

Yasmin sputtered, her eyes flashing frantically, and her voice faltered. Julia, though, held firm. "It appears you are unaware of recent events. I've already said that the mistress faked a pregnancy, paid a doctor to fake a miscarriage, and framed me. They already know about this." Her words were strong and firm, filled with a conviction that made it hard not to believe her. The room fell into a hushed silence as people absorbed her explanation, their skepticism giving way to curiosity. "Why would you lie to the director, then?" Yasmin remarked, with a voice dripping with worry, "If you want to enter the industry, your past will be exposed soon."

"How? Are you cutting things off with him, or are you just saying that to keep me calm until this blows over and things go right back to how they were? Kayla, where does he actually stand with you? Where do I stand?" I caught a shadow shifting in the doorway and kept going. "As long as you cooperate, I can balance things between you and Yuvan." "Balance things? The way you balanced things by faking PTSD so you could save yourself for him? Or were you already planning to swap things around later, pass off Yuvan's child as mine? Kayla, if you're going to ask something of me, you need to hold yourself to the same standard first." She stared at me, clearly caught off guard that I knew the PTSD h

Michael asked no one. "Every time I wake up, there isn't a day where I don't feel regret." said Michael between sobs as he tilted his head up, He took a deep breath before continuing, "And every time I sleep, I'm always haunted by that memory. Memories of that night, Diana, the night you died" "Every day, I ask myself. Why? What did I think to make such a fatal mistake, Diana. I admit that I am a jerk for daring to do all of that to you, Diana.

POV Miguel Carrascal A month after the greatest tragedy of my life, I found myself standing before another woman, proposing a fake dating agreement for one year. Roberta stared at me with wide eyes, her mouth agape, unable to utter a sound. She looked as if she couldn't believe this was real—and to be honest, I couldn't believe what I was doing either. “A year?” She arched an eyebrow, and for a moment, I noticed how beautiful her smile was. “This can't be true.”

Then the haze of sex started to lift, and reality crashed back in hard. I sat there on his lap, staring at him with wide eyes. My body was covered in evidence of what we’d done — bruises on my hips from his grip, bite marks on my breasts and neck, his cum still leaking out of me. I tried to stand, legs shaky, eyes already burning. “Hey. Where are you going?” Greg’s arm wrapped firmly around my back, anchoring me in place. “Greg… we can’t do this again. It’s so wrong,” I whispered, raking a hand through my messy hair. My voice cracked.

"Egoistic prick," "That hit Home rose," he uttered forging hurt. "Your turn," I said totally ignoring him. "This feels new," he said smiling. "What?" I asked. "Nothing, Umm...your full name?" "Rosalie Raveloson short for Rose, come to think of it are you some kind of stalker seeing that you miraculously knew my name," I squinted my eyes while giving of the suspicious aurora. "If you do remember you had on a summer dress that brimmed of roses during our first encounter at the stairs where you had dropped a...,"

And he was startled. "I am not Mike" I said to him softly. "Please stop that" He said to me, removing my hands to his face. "I am saying the truth" "No, stop that Mike, you must been affected by the accident" he said to me "No, I am not lying, I am not Mike please" I begged to him "Trying to deny even yourself, what happen to you Mike?" he said with a pain in his eyes "I am Lucas, please listen to me. You can contact my family, please release me"

I said in a rush but regretted it immediately. Why am I speaking like this? Even I didn't understand why I was so angry! Or perhaps I did, but didn't want to acknowledge it. The prospect of leaving him and not hear even his stupid sarcastic words had finally caught up with me. Nightmares about our separation and my lonely life in a faraway country have become frequent now, but this was the first time that I could feel it, literally, as I stood one foot away from him. A hot flush spread to my cheeks for a different reason and my eyes began to well. I turned my face away and pulled my Pooh bear shirt back on, wiping my eyes dry on the way. "Mo, that shirt is three years old and it has a huge i