The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 139

The imposter's arrogant facade finally began to crack, his face draining of color.

He tried to keep smiling, but it was incredibly forced.

"Heh, that's a brilliant bedtime story you've cooked up, Ms. Taylor, but do you actually have a single shred of proof?"

"The proof is right there!"

Sloane pointed sharply at Lilah's motionless body, totally uncertain if the girl was even breathing anymore.

"I've been tracking her every move," Sloane pressed on. "She infiltrated the team, aggressively trying to get close to everyone just to find the perfect, untraceable moment to wipe us out!"

Diego stood off to the side, awkwardly muttering to himself,

"Now that you mention it, she was practically throwing herself at Josh... but why didn't she ever try to get close to me? Is it because... I'm not as ripped as he is?" He sounded genuinely insulted.

Sloane rolled her eyes.

"It's because Josh is our lead field researcher, and you're just the luggage handler."

Without missing a beat, she locked back onto the imposter.

"Lilah spotted my medication in my room yesterday, and I knew she'd tamper with it. So... I laid a trap, deliberately giving her access to my bag today before staging this entire collapse with Josh and Professor Harrison—"

She took a breath, letting the gravity of it sink in. "We just wanted to see if she'd take the bait. And what do you know? She swallowed it hook, line, and sinker."

"She swapped my pills."

The smug grin was wiped clean off the man's face as he stared at the lifeless girl, his eyes swirling with dark, desperate rage.

"But she's dead! You can spin whatever narrative you want now, can't you?! That's not proof!"

Suddenly, Josh's voice dripped like ice down the man's spine.

"Still playing dumb? Try explaining this."

Standing directly behind him, Josh kept one arm clamped around his throat while using his free hand to pull a radio from his belt and hit play.

A burst of static hissed through the speaker, followed immediately by—

A long, agonizing minute passed.

Then, he smiled.

But it wasn't the fake, mocking sneer from before. It was a completely unhinged, psychopathic grin from a man who had absolutely nothing left to lose.

He raised his hand, trailing his fingers slowly over his own jawline.

While the entire team watched in horror, he dug his nails under his chin and peeled back a synthetic layer of flesh—

A silicone mask.

Beneath it lay the face of a complete stranger. He was much younger, infinitely more sinister, his eyes entirely devoid of Jensen's warmth, replaced by a hollow, predatory bloodlust.

"I guess the gig is up."

He tossed the fleshy disguise into the snow, rolling his stiff jaw.

"The name's Lucas Lane," he growled. "And Lilah was my sister."