The Big Fat Lie Book Novels & Stories

“That’s…” He shook his head slowly. “I wish I’d seen that.” I laughed softly. “It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you’re imagining.” “I doubt that.” I continued anyway. “I walked them through everything.” “The fake infertility report.” “The domestic violence allegation.” “The financial fraud.” “The manipulation.” “The conspiracy.” I swallowed. “And then I ended by telling them…” I looked directly at him. “‘The truth does not become a lie simply because someone famous tells it.’” The room became very quiet.

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He poured himself a drink and handed me one. "That went well," he said dryly. "They hate me." "They hate everyone. You held your own.” I plopped down on the couch and slipped off my heels. "So what now?" He leaned against the window. The city sprawled behind him. "Now," he said, "we make them believe this lie so hard they forget it ever started." "And if we start believing it?" He looked at me. That sharp, unreadable stare. That night, I found myself lying in bed, just staring up at the ceiling.

"So you're the guy who threw it all away for love? Doesn't look like it. Dressed all proper, but you conned that girl for years—just to protect your favorite. "She lost everything. Found out her parents were fake, got stabbed, nearly couldn't have kids, and then you used your marriage to cover it all up. For what? You couldn't just tell the truth?" "You're not a family. You're rats. Hiding. Scheming. Filthy."

It wasn't overboard, right? Archer's voice trembled. "The interest's snowballed to 50 million… Mom, do we even have that kind of money?" Although their lives looked flashy and they lived in a huge villa, they also spent without any control. Money came and went, with no savings in place. The debt collectors didn't hold back. "It's 50 million today, or tomorrow, it could be 60." "I'll call the police! Try me!" Mom barked. "Go ahead," one replied, unfazed. "Let's see if the cops will go easy on someone who turned a livestream into a show, abusing their own son for fun."

She stared for a second, then replied, “if it’s 500$, yes. But around 10,000 dollars? No baby. I can’t even afford my rent that’s why I’m living off two grown men. Plus, I’m taking care of a grown adult—Frank.” She leaned in and asked, “you’re being sold off? To who?” I faked a laugh. “Ha ha. That’s ridiculous. I said if, besides it’s for a novel I’m working on,” I said, trying to shake it off. She shrugged, “if you say so,” She wiped off her tears and stood up. “Let’s go,” she said. “Where?” I asked. “To the club.” She replied. Before I could respond, a message popped up on my phone. I clicked it and it was from an unknown ID. The message was a document, I opened it and my jaw dropped as I

I heard about Piero's recent life from other classmates. After that day, he and Vivian had a huge fight. He said he still loved me, wanted to divorce Vivian, and blamed her for keeping him from marrying me. Vivian was furious, blurting out that she never had cancer. It was all a lie to get him to marry her. When she went abroad and learned Piero was with me, she couldn't accept it. Knowing he'd liked her before, she crafted a lie, and it worked.

I blushed, shook my head, and cleared my throat. “I mean, I’ve been planning to give you since you solved the assignment. The book is very important, it costs the owner’s life.” “What?” he asked in surprise. He’s too young to know the story of the book. The book isn’t popular because it’s the author’s first book. He was a psychologist and also labelled a psychopath. What he wrote in the book was facts about human nature, how to read people and how to make them respect you at all costs as their boss.

“This world is nothing but liars.” Dante slid his arm around her waist, his lips brushing her hair. “Then let’s be the best liars of them all.” Their eyes lingered on their daughter, the wolf and his queen watching their heir sleep, their reign carved in blood, their future balanced on lies. For now, it was enough.

It was better to go vague with the situation, because the less I spoke, the less there would be holes in my story. “Like in the case of amnesia? Or in the case of: ‘there are too many people in my life for me to remember the life story of one more insignificant person’?” -What should I answer? What answer would be more…less… what seemed closer to the truth?- What the hell was the truth anyway? I was so sexually dissatisfied that I woke up in a book?? -Even I wouldn’t buy that! Still, I should stick within the confines of her choices, particularly the latter assumption. She already had a negative view of me. So what would be one more log to the fire?-