My Roommate Stole My Fake Identity

My best friend and I were the twin stars of the grift.

I spent my days renting Maseratis and cultivating the persona of an icy, untouchable heiress, baiting social climbers into maxing out their credit cards just to buy me a Birkin. Tess, on the other hand, specialized in the "damsel in distress" routine. She’d split the bill on five-star hotel suites and pose as a fallen debutante, coaxing mama’s boys into stealing their mothers’ heirloom jewelry to "save" her from imaginary debts.