Unmasking His Lies Novel Cover

Unmasking His Lies

8.4 / 10.0
The prenatal vitamins rattled softly in the plastic bottle as I climbed the stairs to Angelo's apartment, my free hand clutching a stack of baby name books I'd spent hours selecting at the bookstore. Three months along, and finally showing just enough that I'd had to start wearing looser clothes to work. The flutter in my stomach wasn't just the baby anymore—it was pure excitement about our future. I'd been thinking about wedding venues all week, imagining myself in white satin, Angelo's face lighting up as I walked down the aisle. We hadn't set a date yet, but surely now that we were having a baby, he'd want to make it official soon. The thought made my cheeks warm as I fumbled for my key. "Angelo?" I called out, pushing open the door. "I brought those name books I mentioned, and I picked up some really good prenatal vitamins. The pharmacist said—" The words died in my throat. Angelo stood in the middle of his living room, running his hands through his dark hair in that way he did when he was nervous about a big presentation.

Unmasking His Lies Chapter 1

The prenatal vitamins rattled softly in the plastic bottle as I climbed the stairs to Angelo's apartment, my free hand clutching a stack of baby name books I'd spent hours selecting at the bookstore. Three months along, and finally showing just enough that I'd had to start wearing looser clothes to work. The flutter in my stomach wasn't just the baby anymore—it was pure excitement about our future.

I'd been thinking about wedding venues all week, imagining myself in white satin, Angelo's face lighting up as I walked down the aisle. We hadn't set a date yet, but surely now that we were having a baby, he'd want to make it official soon. The thought made my cheeks warm as I fumbled for my key.

"Angelo?" I called out, pushing open the door. "I brought those name books I mentioned, and I picked up some really good prenatal vitamins. The pharmacist said—"

The words died in my throat. Angelo stood in the middle of his living room, running his hands through his dark hair in that way he did when he was nervous about a big presentation. But this wasn't about work. His eyes darted everywhere except to me, and when I mentioned the wedding date, he actually flinched.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice strained.

Something cold settled in my chest. "About the wedding? I know we haven't picked a date yet, but I was thinking maybe spring would be—"

"Oakleigh, just... sit down. Please."

I remained standing, the baby name books suddenly feeling heavy in my arms. "Angelo, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking toward the hallway. That's when I heard it—the soft sound of footsteps, the rustle of fabric. My heart began to pound as a woman emerged from what I knew was Angelo's bedroom.

She was beautiful in a calculated way, with perfectly styled blonde hair and a dress that hugged curves I recognized immediately. Not just any curves—the unmistakable roundness of pregnancy. She was showing more than I was, maybe four or five months along.

"Savanna," Angelo said weakly, "this is Oakleigh."

Savanna Wells. I knew that name from the office—she worked in marketing, always perfectly put together, always smiling that bright, empty smile. She was smiling it now as she moved to stand beside Angelo, her hand resting possessively on her belly.

"Oh, we've met," Savanna said sweetly, though I was certain we'd barely exchanged more than polite greetings in the elevator. "Angelo's told me so much about you."

The room tilted. The baby name books slipped from my numb fingers, scattering across the hardwood floor. "Angelo, what is this?"

He couldn't meet my eyes. "I... we need to discuss our situation. All of us."

"Situation?" The word came out as a whisper.

Savanna reached into her designer purse and pulled out a small stack of ultrasound photos, fanning them out like playing cards. "I think what Angelo is trying to say is that we're all going to be one big, happy family."

I stared at the grainy black and white images, my vision blurring. "You're pregnant."

"Four and a half months," she said proudly, stroking her belly. "And carrying his true heir."

True heir. The words hit me like a physical blow.

Angelo finally looked at me, his face a mask of false determination. "Oakleigh, I love you both. I can't choose between you, and I shouldn't have to. There are cultures where—"

"Where what?" My voice was rising, hysteria creeping in at the edges.

"Where men have multiple wives," Savanna finished helpfully, as if she were discussing the weather. "It's actually quite practical. We could share household duties, child-rearing responsibilities. Think of it as a modern arrangement."

I looked between them, waiting for someone to laugh, to tell me this was some sick joke. But Angelo's face was serious, pleading even, and Savanna looked absolutely delighted with herself.

"You want me to share you," I said slowly, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

"It doesn't have to be weird," Angelo said quickly. "We could make it work. I have enough love for both of you, enough resources to support both families—"

"Both families." I pressed my hand to my own belly, feeling suddenly sick. "You want me to be your... what? Second wife? Sister wife?"

Savanna's smile widened. "Actually, since I'm further along, and since Angelo and I have been discussing this arrangement for weeks now, I think it's more accurate to say you'd be joining our family."

Weeks. They'd been planning this for weeks while I'd been picking out baby names and dreaming about wedding dresses.

The engagement ring on my finger suddenly felt like it was burning my skin. I twisted it off with shaking hands and hurled it at Angelo's feet, where it bounced once and rolled under the coffee table.

"You're insane," I breathed, backing toward the door. "Both of you are completely insane if you think I would ever—"

"Oakleigh, wait!" Angelo stepped toward me, but I held up my hand.

"Don't. Don't you dare touch me."

Savanna's voice followed me as I stumbled toward the door. "Sharing is caring, Oakleigh! You should be grateful we're even offering you this opportunity!"

I turned back one last time, seeing Angelo's weak, pathetic expression as he made one final attempt at justification. "I love you both," he said desperately. "This could work. We could make this work."

But I was already running.

Continue Reading

Unmasking His Lies of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10

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