Chapter 16: The Perfect Impostor

"Lucas...?"

My voice barely escaped my lips.

Vincent looked at me in complete disbelief.

"Sophia... what did you just say?"

"The man on the motorcycle..."

"It was Lucas."

Vincent immediately shook his head.

"That's impossible."

"Lucas was with me the entire chase."

"I know what I saw."

"Sophia..."

"No."

"I may have doubted myself before, but not anymore."

"That was Lucas's face."

Before Vincent could respond, the real Lucas came running from the opposite side of the estate.

He was breathing heavily.

"Did you catch him?"

Neither of us answered.

Lucas frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Vincent slowly looked at him.

"Sophia says she saw the attacker's face."

"Good."

"Who was it?"

I stared directly into Lucas's eyes.

"You."

The color instantly disappeared from his face.

"What?"

"Don't lie."

"I saw you."

"Sophia, that's impossible."

"I was chasing him from the west garden."

"Then explain why I saw your face."

Lucas looked genuinely confused.

"Unless..."

He stopped speaking.

"Unless what?" Vincent asked.

"Unless it wasn't me."

"What does that even mean?"

"Someone made themselves look like me."

Vincent narrowed his eyes.

"A disguise?"

"Not impossible."

"Professional silicone masks exist."

"Especially for criminal organizations."

The possibility chilled me.

Had I really seen Lucas?

Or had someone wanted me to believe I had?

"We need proof," Vincent said.

"Not assumptions."

Back inside the mansion, Father was gone.

His study was empty.

The stranger had disappeared as well.

Only one thing remained on the desk.

A black envelope.

It was addressed to Vincent.

"Open it," I whispered.

Inside was a single photograph.

It showed Vincent standing beside my father three years earlier.

Both men were shaking hands.

On the back were six handwritten words.

Every secret has its price.

"Someone's playing games," Lucas muttered.

"No," Vincent replied.

"Someone wants Sophia to stop trusting me."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because divided people are easier to destroy."

Lucas suddenly walked toward the bookshelf.

"Vincent..."

"Look at this."

One shelf wasn't aligned properly.

He pushed it gently.

With a quiet click, the bookshelf swung inward.

A hidden passage.

"Your father built secret tunnels?" I whispered.

"Apparently."

We switched on our phone flashlights before stepping inside.

The narrow corridor stretched beneath the mansion.

Dust covered the floor.

Except for one set of fresh footprints.

"Someone used this tonight," Vincent said.

We followed the tracks.

After nearly five minutes, the tunnel opened into a small underground office.

Unlike the abandoned corridor, this room looked recently occupied.

A desk.

A computer.

Several filing cabinets.

And a wall covered with photographs.

My breath caught.

Every photograph showed me.

Childhood.

Boarding school.

University.

Training sessions.

Birthdays.

Even recent pictures taken without my knowledge.

"Someone's been watching you for years," Lucas whispered.

Vincent carefully searched the desk drawers.

Inside he found dozens of surveillance reports.

Each one described my daily routine.

"This started long before the bracelet," he said.

"Years before."

I stepped closer to the wall.

One photograph had been circled in red.

It showed the night Vincent and I first met.

Beneath it someone had written:

Target successfully attached to Moretti.

My heart stopped.

"Attached?"

"What does that mean?"

Vincent slowly unfolded another document.

His expression darkened.

"Sophia..."

"Read it."

"It's a psychological profile."

"Of you."

Lucas took the papers.

"Prepared by someone calling themselves Raven Operations."

"Objective..."

He hesitated.

"Read it."

"Objective: manipulate emotional dependency between Sophia Romano and Vincent Moretti to ensure future operational leverage."

The room became silent.

"They're saying..."

"We were manipulated from the beginning," I whispered.

"No," Vincent answered firmly.

"Our feelings weren't fake."

"But someone intended to use them."

"Like chess pieces."

I suddenly noticed another folder beneath the desk.

It was labeled Project Principessa.

My hands trembled as I opened it.

Inside were hundreds of pages.

Medical records.

School reports.

Family photographs.

Letters.

Every detail of my life.

"This is impossible," I whispered.

"Who could know all this?"

The final page contained only one sentence.

Asset ready for Phase Two.

"Asset?"

"They're talking about me like I'm property."

Before anyone could answer, the underground office lights suddenly switched off.

Darkness swallowed the room.

A distorted voice echoed through hidden speakers.

"Congratulations."

"You've finally reached the beginning."

"Who's there?" Vincent shouted.

Soft laughter echoed around us.

"You're asking the wrong question, Mr. Moretti."

"The right question is..."

"Why did we choose Sophia?"

The voice paused.

"Because she was never the target."

"She was always the key."

A loud explosion shook the tunnel.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

"Run!" Vincent yelled.

The underground passage began collapsing behind us.

We sprinted toward the exit as stones crashed around us.

Just before reaching the hidden doorway, I looked back one final time.

The wall of photographs disappeared beneath falling concrete.

Every secret...

Every answer...

Buried in seconds.

As we escaped into the mansion, Vincent grabbed my arm.

"We're leaving now."

"No," I said.

"Not until you answer one question."

"What?"

"The voice said I was the key."

"The key to what?"

Vincent looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.

Fear.

"Sophia..."

"I think I finally know who the Raven really is."