Three Years After I Faked My Own Death Novels & Stories

I know you wouldn't want Alex to find out how you threaten me to take the cash and fake my death, so I'll leave him. I'll be waiting, see you soon.} I grinned as I sent the message, it was already 1:20pm. “He didn't threaten me in the past, but I just did that to him. Lying to Alex that he threatened made me fake my death, leaving him to bear the guilt would shatter the father and son relationship.” Richard knows better than to ignore me. He wouldn’t. I started my car and hit the road, heading for Corazon’s Cafe. I got there in twenty minutes, and a cafe sign welcomed me. I got in and there were less customers inside.

It was as if the old Lyra had died the moment I faked my death and left. At that thought, I turned off my phone to begin studying for tomorrow’s lesson. I only turned off the lights and went to sleep when midnight rolled around. … One year later, I opened my own cafe in Iceland. Sometimes, I would even invite my friends living nearby to taste my home country’s cuisine. I also adopted a goofy and cheeky husky. My life was incredibly fulfilling. One afternoon, I suddenly received a call from the fake death company. “My apologies, Miss Stane. Mr. Quinn has been looking for you all this time.

"If I do this, if I fake my death—I cannot contact anyone. Albert. Antonio. Grace. They will think I am really gone." "They will grieve. That grief will be authentic. X-One and X-Two will detect authentic grief and accept your death as real. Fake grief gets noticed. Real grief sells the deception." X-Three grabbed my flickering hand. "You want to protect them? Make them believe you are dead. It is the only way." "How do I know you are not just X-One wearing a conscience as camouflage? How do I know this is not another layer of manipulation?"

I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and said nothing. “She’s Samantha,” Kade said. “My mate. She faked her death seven years ago and has been walking around with a new name ever since.” Tyler lifted his chin. “I know.” Kade froze. “You know?” “I didn’t fake my death,” I blurted out. “I did die—because of you!”

Liam let out a soft laugh and playfully tousled my hair. "Selena, it's been ten years. You've grown distant from me!" I pretended to be annoyed and pushed his hand away. "Ugh, you've ruined my hair again!" It was as if we had been transported back to the days when the three of us were thick as thieves. Once my fever recovered, Liam stuck by my side, helping me pick up all the essentials I needed to get by.

"You're an orphan with no family ties. Serve a few years inside, and I'll pay you enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. When you're out, I'll handle everything." He paused, his eyes narrowing behind the lenses. "But if you refuse, I'll use every resource at my disposal to ensure you can't survive in this city. And all the money I've given you? It will be reclaimed." Money... He knew it was both my weakness and my armor. My tears splashed onto the confession paper as I trembled from head to toe. The system prompted: "Host's acting skills at Oscar level. Strategy mission enters final settlement phase. Prepare for Faking Death exit."

"Never-satisfied men like him will always take the route that will best serve their interests. It is his loss, not yours, if he is unable to see your value. People are just that way.” With a weak, self-deprecating smile on her lips, Haley sat back in the chair. With the intensity of a wave, she realized that her faith and sincerity had been squandered on the thin lies Kieran and Lydia had fabricated for four whole years. She would never be able to return after four years. Haley’s chest began to hurt sharply and intensely, constricting around her heart like a vise. Every breath was hard and raspy. She had given Kieran one final glimmer of hope—a thin line between condemnation and disaster. Ho

My little sister had always been too frail to run and play, so I wasn’t allowed to, either. My parents insisted I sit quietly beside her and learn to be a lady. “Be more like Bianca,” Mom would say. “You’re a don’s daughter. Act like one.” But when I wore the same color as her, Dad would tell me to change. “Must you compete with your sister for attention?” Once, I baked my brother his favorite almond cookies. He pushed the tray aside. “Bianca makes these for me. Stop copying her just to get my attention.” Yesterday, he snapped at her for interrupting a meeting. She cut her wrist with a kitchen knife. They rushed her to the hospital. My brother pulled the guards from my studio to protect her

Then he turned away. An hour and a half later, I understood what an obsessive man was capable of. Several doctors surrounded me and asked question after question, going over the same details again and again. If I slipped even slightly or contradicted myself, they dug in until I had no answer left. They were the best psychologists money could buy. They pulled at every thread, reading the way I paused and where my eyes went, building a case that I had faked my own death three years ago. "I don't know. I really don't remember."

He had a shocked expression and then fear he must have remembered how other guys died mysteriously, “Wh..what are you talking about? I don't know anything, I don't know what happened 3 years ago. Please don't kill me?” “Fucking liar,” I said taking off my mask, I smiled at his shocked face as he looked at my face. “Y….you….you're alive?” he swallowed. I smiled, “Now do you know what happened 3 years ago?”