The She Billionaire In Boy’s Blazer のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

The warehouse was cold, the metal walls sweating from the chill of pre-dawn. Everyone was gathered Sonia, Eric, Silas, Alex, and the remnants of the resistance who had survived everything this mission had cost.Blueprints were scattered across the central table. Final floor plans of the underground Daxton compound. Security rotations. Hidden passageways. Emergency kill codes.They were ready.Almost.But Sonia’s gut twisted. Something still felt… off.Alex noticed. “You good?”“No,” she said honestly. “We’re missing something. There’s a gap.”“We’ve triple-checked everything.”“No. Not the maps. The people.” Sonia looked around. “There’s someone who’s been silent. Too silent.”“You think Daxton has another informant?” Eric asked.“I think…” Her voice trailed off, eyes narrowing. “He has a shadow. Someone none of us factored in.”That’s when the door burst open.Everyone snapped to attention, guns rising.A man stepped inside.Drenched in sweat. Bloodied lip. Bruised jaw. But his prese

The clone Sonia’s clone sat curled on the medical cot, blinking slowly under the too-white lights.Eric stood guard near the door, weapon drawn, while Sonia knelt at the girl’s side, gently brushing damp strands of hair away from her pale face.“What’s your name?” Sonia asked softly.The girl hesitated. “They called me Subject 013. Sometimes... Echo.”Sonia’s chest tightened. Echo. The name echoed louder in her soul than in her ears.She took the girl’s hand. “You’re not a subject. You’re not an experiment. You’re a person.”Echo tilted her head. “But I was made to replace you. To be you.”“No,” Sonia said firmly. “You were made to imitate me. But you are not me. You’re you.”Behind her, Jason’s voice crackled through the comms again. “Sonia, you need to move. We’re breaching the children’s chamber in ninety seconds. You need to decide what to do with her.”Sonia looked at Echo this small, broken reflection of herself, created in cruelty and raised in isolation.“We’re not leaving her

The hotel room was dimly lit, the soft buzz of the TV in the background showing headlines that made Sonia’s stomach twist.“BREAKING: Secret Experiments Uncovered in Elite Academy Students Speak Out”“Daxton Cartel Network Tied to International Scandals”“Anonymous Student Hacker Leaks Vault of Evidence”The world was watching. But Sonia couldn’t bring herself to celebrate yet.She sat at the edge of the bed, scrolling through messages flooding her burner phone some from journalists, some from strangers, and one... from a number she hadn’t seen in years.UNKNOWN:I know what Daxton did to your brother. I was there too.Sonia froze.Her breath hitched as her eyes ran over the text again. Her brother.She hadn’t spoken his name aloud in so long Daniel. The one who vanished first. The one who unknowingly started her descent into this web of lies.Eric noticed her stillness from across the room. “What is it?”She passed him the phone.Eric’s jaw clenched. “Who’s A?”“I don’t know. But th

Night fell over Lagos like a slow curtain, golden and pink melting into ink. The streets quieted only slightly just enough to move in shadows.Sonia crouched beside the delivery truck parked outside the CortexCare facility. She checked her watch. 9:57 p.m. Echo’s intel had been right. The cameras along the west perimeter blinked out at exactly 10:00 p.m. every Thursday. Like clockwork.Jason whispered through the comms. “Window open. We have twenty-five minutes.”Sonia moved first, slipping past the delivery bay’s rusted gate. Eric was on her heels, followed by Echo and Jason. Silas stayed back, monitoring the feed.The moment they stepped inside the facility, Sonia’s stomach churned.It was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t peace, but preparation.She expected to find sterile halls and soft music like Daxton, but this place was worse slicker, cleaner, more modern. Deceit didn’t need masks anymore. It wore white paint and soft lighting.“This way,” Echo murmured, holdi

The Foundation Gala was a grand illusion an opulent symphony of wealth, power, and deception.Held in the heart of Paris at the Palais Du Verité, a place once known for housing revolutions and now rebranded for humanitarian elegance, the venue glittered with imported crystal, velvet-draped pillars, and the kind of silence only extreme money could buy.Sonia stepped out of the sleek black SUV, her heels clicking against the marble steps. She wore a silver dress sculpted to her frame minimal, sharp, and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just for show. Sewn into the seams were signal disruptors, tracking patches, and one tiny blade. Just in case.Eric stepped out behind her, donning a classic tuxedo with dark satin lapels and a look that said "keep walking or regret it." Beneath the crisp shirt, a body cam hummed silently. He offered her his arm not for romance tonight, but optics. They looked like a power couple. And in some ways, they were. Just not the kind this gala had planned for.In