True Piece Novels & Stories

If they were bold enough to give a fake, especially under the guise of a prize, and even left a business card for follow-up—now that would be audacious. After inspecting it, Alice confirmed that the pearls were genuine. The texture in her hand was solid and cool to the touch. The woven details were flawless. The bow ribbon was real, and even the inner brand logo was authentic. "Well?" Macie asked, seeing Alice still looking serious. She couldn't help but ask. Even if it turned out to be a factory reject, it wouldn't really matter. It was free, after all. Alice looked up, handed the bag back, and said, "It's genuine."

Patrick and the audience all turned to gaze at Penny with puzzled looks. "Grandpa, Leon gambled for this stone a few days ago at the Westwoods' store—Andy and I were there, and we saw everything. It turned out that the stone was indeed a rare Four-Colored Jadeite, and I swear that this isn't a counterfeit product at all," Penny declared confidently. "What?" "How's this possible?" Nigel and the rest were stunned to hear this. They all thought Leon was lying, and never once did they think that the jadeite statue Leon was gifting Patrick would turn out to be a piece of priceless treasure!

I said quietly. Blake frowned. “What do you mean?” I looked up. My eyes steady. “It’s public.” Silence. Cesare’s expression darkened slightly. “Say that again.” “It’s not underground. Not secret. Not erased.” I turned the screen toward them. “It’s right in front of everyone.” Blake blinked. “That’s… impossible.” “No,” I said. “It’s genius.” The Truth Behind It “Hide something well enough… people look for it.” “But put it in plain sight…”

My father looks at Lucas and he finally asks, “How sure are you that she’s your true mate?” “My parents were true mates,” He replies, tightly. “I know more about them than you think. A normal mating bond only takes place once you mark your mate. True mates don’t need that. Their bond snaps into place once they both accept the others presence or they allow the other in, which is what happened in our case.” My father lets out a sigh of relief, “Well, your bond will allow Sarah to survive.”

"I am very curious as this is clearly a white mate string, which I have never seen before. I have never even met anyone who has seen one. I have only ever read about one before. This is amazing! I know you can't understand this but this is really exceptional and will be a blessing for your pack. I will send more information to you as I find it. Okay now that we have proven there is, in fact, a mate bond we need to prove it to the doubting parties. Alpha Elijah, let's get this over with. I need to get back and start researching this white connection and I'm to excited." She was practically bouncing in her seat. Now to show Andrew's parents so they could accept this...

‎ ‎Very, very fragile. ‎ ‎

“There’s a signature, a micro-inscription, on every authentic piece. Visible only with my glasses.” He pulled out a small, sleek pair from his inner pocket. As he checked, my stomach tightened just a bit. What if…? No. No way. But still. Silence stretched. Then finally: “This is the—” The pause was dramatic. Too dramatic. He knew how to hold a crowd. “this is the real one.” The noise around us shifted instantly, the same mouths that whispered before started murmuring a new tune. And that was when Alexander and Ethan returned.

After all, in their eyes, what could possibly be valuable about some old grave in the middle of nowhere? I stood by the upstairs window, watching Wallace's car disappear down the road, and a faint smile curved on my lips. There was something inside that safe—but it wasn't some priceless set of bonds. It was my real birth certificate and the evidence my father had left behind to prove Olivia's financial crimes. In my last life, I had almost gotten my hands on them. But before I could, they forced me to marry Abby, and my plan for revenge fell apart. This time, I'd let that fool guard the evidence for me.

I did not have time to argue about property rights with people consumed by late-stage parasocial obsession. I pulled up an official document on my phone and held it out. "Look at this. My name is on the deed. Belgard is mine," I said evenly. "Now move aside. I need to get my wine." The ringleader snatched my phone and scanned the screen. She looked me over with open suspicion. "How are we supposed to know this is real? None of us works in property. None of us owns a wine estate. This could be fake. It could be AI."

Completely. Our truth. Our story. Our proof. Perfect.