Chapter 4
THE IMPOSTOR’S SHADOW
The glowing screen of the smartphone lit up the dim room.
Bastian looked down at the incoming message alert.
The sender was an unknown international number.
The text message consisted of a single attached photograph.
It was a passport scan bearing Rosalyn Voss’s face.
Except the name printed on the document was completely different.
Bastian’s hand gripped the edge of the mahogany table.
His knuckles turned stark white under the pressure.
He slowly raised his eyes from the phone back to Rosalyn.
The transformation in his expression terrified Mira.
It was no longer just the anger of a protective father.
It was the cold, calculating fury of a betrayed titan.
"Who are you?" Bastian asked, his voice barely a whisper.
The whisper carried more weight than a shouting match.
Rosalyn blinked rapidly, a flicker of panic in her eyes.
"What... what are you talking about, Bastian?"
"I am Rosalyn Voss, daughter of Arthur Voss."
"You met my father at the charity gala last spring."
Bastian let out a harsh, humorless laugh.
He turned the phone screen outward for everyone to see.
"Arthur Voss has only one daughter," Bastian said coldly.
"Her name is Claire Voss."
"She tragically passed away in a yacht accident in Monaco three years ago."
"So I ask you again... who the hell are you?"
The conservatory erupted into sudden, chaotic murmurs.
Advisors whispered among themselves in sheer disbelief.
Rosalyn staggered backward until her spine hit the glass wall.
Her mask of aristocratic elegance shattered completely.
The trembling, fragile upper-class woman vanished instantly.
A cold, calculating smirk slowly spread across her face.
She lifted her chin, her posture snapping straight once more.
"You figured it out a bit later than I expected, Calder," she purred.
Her voice lost its soft, cultured American cadence.
It carried a sharp, unfamiliar European edge.
Mira clutched Evan tighter against her apron.
The child hid his face, sensing the dark shift in the air.
"You ruined my family’s shipping empire, Bastian," she hissed.
"You orchestrated the hostile takeover that drove my father to ruin."
"He lost everything because of your corporate greed."
"He died penniless in a cold hospital room in Zurich."
"And I came here to take everything from you in return."
Bastian did not flinch, nor did he raise his voice.
"Vengeance is a common motive for the weak," Bastian replied.
"You thought you could infiltrate my home and poison my son?"
"You thought wrong."
Rosalyn threw her head back and let out a chilling laugh.
"Poison him? Oh, please."
"I was merely getting rid of the annoying guard dog."
"The real work was already happening in his evening milk."
Mira’s blood ran instantly cold in her veins.
She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Evan’s milk," Mira whispered in absolute horror.
"What did you put in his milk, you monster?"
Rosalyn’s eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction.
"Just a slow-acting neurotoxin, my dear housemaid."
"Untraceable by standard estate physicians."
"It mimics natural childhood lethargy and respiratory failure."
"In two more weeks, little Evan would have quietly slipped away in his sleep."
"And Bastian would have blamed himself for working too much."
Bastian lunged forward with terrifying speed.
He grabbed Rosalyn by the silk collar of her blouse.
He slammed her hard against the reinforced glass panel.
The glass shook violently under the heavy impact.
"Where is the antidote?" Bastian roared, losing all composure.
His face was inches from hers, veins bulging in his neck.
Rosalyn choked for air, smiling through her gasping breath.
"You’ll... you’ll never find it, Calder," she choked out.
May you like
"It’s hidden where you least expect it."
[Cliffhanger: Suddenly, all the lights in the mansion cut out completely, plunging the grand conservatory into absolute darkness.]
