Fake Saint Of The Year Novels & Stories

“And Ivy?” “Yeah?” “Behave yourself. This isn’t just anybody.” I laughed softly. “Who is he? A prince?” My father snorted. “Bigger. The man’s one of the most famous actors in the country.” I sat upright immediately. Patrick Laurent. The Patrick Laurent. Oscar-winning actor. Magazine covers. Interviews everywhere. Older than me by at least fifteen years. Wealthy. Untouchable. Beautiful in that cold intimidating way famous men sometimes were. “Oh my God.”

For ten years, my legs ached like they were being sawed off every time it rained. It was a hidden injury from walking to all those churches. But I never complained. It was the price I paid to pray for my dead love. Until today. On the TV screen of a rundown motel, I saw Julian, who was supposed to be resting at the bottom of the lake. The headline screamed: Ascension Ceremony for the New Don of Chicago's Biggest Mafia, the Falcone Family.

“What? Get out!” I gasp, turning to Grayson. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Nope, Lorraine Haught goes by the stage name of Bambi LaRue for about five years at the Pink Pony Club outside St. Louis.” “Oh geez,” I say, closing my eyes. “God, I almost wish I didn’t know. I mean, he’s such an accomplished guy and so perfect for Emmie, but he lies and sets up this fake family to hide his stripper mom. That’s so sad and deceitful.”

The Heavenly Bar, it's where she's been working for the past two years. It gave men out there the chance to taste her body for a not so cheap price. A hell she never imagined would be the place where she had to rely on to support her sister's life, apart from the hospital of course.

I clutched my chest, gasping for breath as tears blurred my vision. My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug deep into my palms, using the pain to keep myself upright. “Wandi spent a year overseas, recuperating, before she was willing to forgive Neve. In a couple of days, I’ll stage a medical ‘miracle’, stand up again, and let her resume being the Donna. This year is a penance for her willfulness.” Each word of his was uttered coolly, piercing deeper into my heart. “But… it has been a year. Will she buy it?” someone asked hesitantly.

Since then, the youngest heir to the Vuitton tech fortune released a follow-up video—in clothes this time—apologizing, no doubt attempting to mend ties with the Bass family, whom the Vuittons invest heavily into. Good luck with that. In the video, she—or should I say her lawyer—explains the dangerous prevalence of artificial intelligence and deepfakes, painting Priscella as an innocent victim of some extortionate hacker, who has yet to be unveiled. Let me be the first to say, no one's believing that, Miss Vuitton. Not me, not my readers and especially not tycoons on Silicon Avenue. All of us know the truth... Those pixels were realer than every one of your "orgasms."

The situation might get worse if I report. "Are you sure, Eliza? Don't cover up your husband! I didn't raise you just to obey others!” Dad is still making sure. "Yes, Dad. I can take care of myself. Zedrick isn't doing anything to me, so don't worry about me." That's when Dad calmed down, so I came to him and hugged him. I know what I'm doing is wrong, but it's even worse if I report like a child. Even though it was clear to me that Zedrick was cheating, I would still cover for him because this is the life I chose... marrying the man I thought would make me happy for life.

Maximo mocks me. “It’s acting that way because you are close and touching me in places that get me excited,” I say with a shaky breath. Maximo smirks and Santino chuckles, “Oh really?” Maximo pushes away with hands up in surrender. I know they didn’t believe my lie. I nod my head. “You are forgetting we are dragons, Samantha, we have been around for hundreds of years. The only thing I am curious about is how did you it. That safe, no one has ever been able to open it until you left your scent lingering around it.” Santino says.

"You looked like you wanted to kill me the second you set eyes on me at the mall." ​"I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier," I told him, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. "I'm just... dealing with a lot right now." ​Ethan’s playful smirk softened, his gaze turning incredibly warm. "No, it's okay. I totally understand." ​"Thank you," I murmured, looking up at his towering frame. "How can you be so famous already? You're so young." ​"I skipped college to focus entirely on my hockey career. Went straight to the pros. I'm only twenty," he explained, looking down at me. "You?"

I moved to another city and spent half a month trying to stitch myself back together, convincing myself I could start all over again. But the moment I stepped into the real world, I realized how broken I really was because the five years gone had stripped me of everything. From my dignity to my confidence, and even my instincts... They were all gone.