Chapter 43 The Woman Who Never Existed
Lila's POV
"What book?" I repeated, keeping my voice steady even as my heart hammered. "Ethan, what are you talking about?"
Ethan stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he smiled.
It wasn't the warm smile I remembered. It was cold. Clinical. The smile of a predator who'd been playing with his food and was done pretending.
"You know," he said softly, leaning back in his chair, "I actually believed you for a second there. The confused act. The trauma. It was really well done." He tilted his head. "But then I remembered you've always been good at playing roles, haven't you, Sophia?"
The name hit me like ice water.
A name I hadn't heard in three years.
A name I'd buried along with everything else from my past.
In my ear, Sarah's voice crackled with confusion. "Who the hell is Sophia? Lila, what's he talking about?"
I couldn't answer. Could barely breathe.
Ethan watched my reaction with satisfaction. "There it is. That's the real face. Not Lila James, sweet marketing assistant with student loans and dreams of a normal life. That was always just another con, wasn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I managed, but my voice shook.
"Don't you?" Ethan pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. On the screen was a photo me, but younger. Different hair, different clothes, different name on the ID card visible in the corner.
Sophia Chen. Age 24. Los Angeles, California.
"Three years ago," Ethan said conversationally, "a very talented con artist named Sophia Chen disappeared from Los Angeles after a job went sideways. She'd specialized in long-term infiltrations getting close to wealthy targets, learning their secrets, stealing their money. She was good. Really good. So good that when she vanished, several very dangerous people wanted to know where she'd gone."
My mouth was dry. "That's not—"
"The Remington Group especially wanted to find her," Ethan continued. "After she exposed their CEO's embezzlement scheme and disappeared with evidence worth millions. They put out feelers everywhere. Eventually, those feelers reached Stirling-Hale. And we found something interesting."
He swiped to another photo. This one was more recent me, in my apartment, taken through the window with a telephoto lens.
"A woman matching Sophia's description, living in New York under a new name. Lila James. Complete background birth certificate, school records, employment history. All perfectly fabricated. All completely fake."
In my ear, chaos erupted. Sarah swearing. Marcus's voice sharp with questions. Eleanor demanding to know what was happening.
But I couldn't focus on any of it. Could only stare at Ethan as my entire world collapsed.
"Here's where it gets interesting," Ethan said, leaning forward again. "Six months ago, Lila James applied for a job at Cole Enterprises. Entry-level marketing position. Nothing that would attract attention. But perfect for someone who wanted inside access to one of the most powerful corporations in America."
"That's not I didn't—"
"At first, I thought you were working for a competitor," Ethan said. "That's why I was assigned to watch you. To figure out who sent you and what you were after. But then I realized something." His smile widened. "You weren't working for anyone. You were freelancing. Running your own operation. And your target—" He paused dramatically. "was Adrian Cole himself."
"No," I whispered.
"Yes." Ethan's voice was almost gleeful now. "That's why I'm not actually upset about you ending up in his car. That's why I'm not surprised you've been 'recovering' somewhere the police can't find you. Because you planned all of it, didn't you? The mistaken text message. The dinner invitation. The whole damsel-in-distress routine."
He leaned so close I could smell his cologne. "It wasn't a mistake at all. You meant to send that message to Adrian. You knew exactly what you were doing."
My mind raced, trying to process what he was saying, trying to separate truth from manipulation.
The text message. Had I really made a mistake that night? Or had some buried instinct, some remnant of Sophia's training, guided my thumb to the wrong contact deliberately?
"I don't I didn't—"
"Oh, but you did," Ethan said. "And it worked beautifully. Adrian Cole, the man who never mixed business with pleasure, who never showed weakness, fell for the innocent girl with the embarrassing mistake. You played him perfectly."
"That's not true," I said, my voice stronger now. "Whatever you think you know about my past, you're wrong about Adrian. I didn't plan—"
"Didn't you?" Ethan interrupted. "Tell me, Sophia when did you plan to make your move? Were you going to wait until he trusted you completely? Until he gave you access to his accounts, his files, his secrets? Or were you aiming bigger? Marriage, maybe? A Cole family fortune at your fingertips?"
He pulled his phone back and swiped to another image. This one made my blood run cold.
It was a plane ticket. Zurich, Switzerland. Departure date: two days from now. Two names on the reservation: Adrian Cole and Lila James.
"We know he was planning to take you to Switzerland," Ethan said quietly. "Private trip. Very secret. Very romantic. Except—" His eyes glinted. "Switzerland is also where Adrian keeps his most sensitive offshore accounts. Interesting timing, don't you think?"
"Where did you get that?" I demanded.
"We have our sources," Ethan said. "Just like you have yours. The question is are you still playing the long game? Is Adrian Cole still your mark? Or have the Coles figured out who you really are?"
In my ear, James Cole's voice cut through the chaos. "Lila, if what he's saying is true, you need to signal for extraction right now. We need to—"
But I couldn't signal. Couldn't move. Because Ethan was still talking, and every word was another knife.
"Here's what I think happened," he said. "I think you realized the crash wasn't an accident. I think you figured out that Adrian was investigating Stirling-Hale, and that made him and by extension, you a target. So you did what you do best. You adapted. You let the Coles 'rescue' you. You played the traumatized victim. And now you're sitting here, wearing their wire—" He tapped the table, making me flinch. "pretending to help them catch me, when really you're just gathering more information. More leverage. More ammunition for whatever con you're really running."
"That's not—" My voice cracked. "That's not what's happening."
"Isn't it?" Ethan's voice turned hard. "Because here's what I know for certain. Sophia Chen doesn't do anything by accident. She doesn't fall in love. She doesn't get scared. She doesn't need rescuing. She's a predator, just like me. Just like Stirling. And predators don't change their nature just because the scenery changes."
He stood up, looking down at me with something like disappointment.
"I came here thinking I'd have to manipulate you, convince you to give me the Book. But now I realize you never had it, did you? You gave it to the Coles. Traded it for protection, for resources, for whatever else they offered you." He shook his head. "That's fine. We have copies of everything important anyway. But here's my advice, Sophia—"
He leaned down, his lips close to my ear.
"Stop pretending to be Lila James. Stop playing the helpless victim. Go back to being who you really are. Because this—" He gestured at me, at the coffee shop, at everything. "—this isn't you. And eventually, the Coles are going to figure that out. And when they do, they'll destroy you."
He straightened up. "Oh, and one more thing. Tell Marcus—" He looked directly at a man sitting two tables over, reading a newspaper. " that his cover as a grad student is terrible. The newspaper's upside down."
Marcus's head snapped up, his cover blown.
Ethan smiled. "See? I'm not the only one who notices details."
He walked toward the door, then paused and looked back at me.
"The people you used to work with in Los Angeles? The Remington Group? They're still looking for you. And now they know where you are. So you have a choice, Sophia. You can stay here, playing house with the Coles, waiting for your past to catch up with you. Or—" He pulled out a business card and slid it across the nearest table. "you can call that number. Tell them you're ready to come home. To be who you really are."
"And if I don't?" I asked, hating how weak my voice sounded.
"Then you'll die as Lila James," Ethan said simply. "A nobody. A mistake. A woman who never existed."
He walked out.
The coffee shop erupted into motion agents moving toward the door, Sarah's voice shouting instructions in my ear, Marcus crossing to my table.
But I couldn't move. Could only stare at the business card Ethan had left behind.
On it was a phone number. And below that, a single word: