Black Imposter Among Us Novels & Stories

“I can confirm that Miss Emily is the rightful owner of this property.” Grace sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “Are you even a real security guard? You’re probably just some actor Emily hired.” The guard took out his credentials, proving his authenticity, but Grace and her friends weren’t about to back down. “Oh, I see it now,” one of the coworkers piped up. “Emily must’ve seduced the guard to get access to the villa. She’s shameless!” “Exactly! Those credentials could be fake too. Who knows if this guy is legitimate? I’ve been living in this villa for so long, and I’ve never seen him before,” Grace added, standing tall as though she were the actual owner.

"He followed me into the hallway. He yelled at me for walking too slowly. He said I was in the way of the photographers." "And then?" Alice snaps, stepping closer. "And then he told me to get out of his sight," I whisper, looking up at her with wide, terrified eyes. "He walked toward the service exit. I swear, Alice. I came straight back here. Did... did I do something wrong?" Alice stares at me, searching my face for a lie. But my disguise is flawless. I am a masterclass in submission. "Useless," Alice mutters, rolling her eyes in disgust. She turns away, pulling a small radio from her belt. "Perimeter team, check the service exits. Find Victor."

On the other hand, the brown jacket guy falls lifeless on the ground. As opportunity presents, the imposter fires at brown jacket's partner who jumps behind a counter, landing amongst the ladies. They all crawl away from him whimpering. The guy then responds with his own fire which drives the imposter behind a table. "You're just another lone idiot in my country, give up," the imposter vilifies him. "I'd kill everyone in here if I have to," he raises the gun and fires shots again without even peeking. "Don't die mam. Don't die. Don't make your baby's life miserable," Sophia bounces the crying baby in her arm while pleading with the mom to live.

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“Okay. So… there was this imposter. Someone who was posing as you. But she wasn’t like you at all. She walked differently. She tried to act like you, but I caught on. And she fired me.” I raised my brows. “Fired you?” “Yes! For calling her Ivy. But you…” she gestured at me, eyes wide. “You told me to call you Ivy. Not Miss Blackwood, not Madam, not boss, just Ivy. That’s how I knew for sure that she wasn’t you.” I nodded slowly, absently, my mind spinning. A twin. An imposter. Someone who wore my face, took my place, and nearly destroyed the life I had here while I was missing. Interesting.

"We need to move Samuel. Now!" "Where? The building is locked down. All exits are—" The door exploded inward. Through the smoke stepped a figure. Not Alpha. Not Derek. Not any hive node. Someone new. Someone who moved with Marcus's cadence, Marcus's precision, Marcus's ghost made flesh. And when emergency lights finally flickered on, I saw his face. The face from the burned photograph. One of the three Blackstone survivors. And I recognized him. Because I had seen him before. Spoken to him. Trusted him.

That was a different story. Twenty minutes later, I had names. Markus Reed. Elijah “Chop” Henson. Both had rap sheets for petty theft, drug possession, breaking and entering. Low-level criminals. Not the kind of guys who usually impersonated federal agents and staged illegal interrogations. Unless someone paid them. I leaned back, rubbing a hand over my jaw. Someone with resources and enough paranoia to mask it all under a federal façade was orchestrating this. Bianca wasn’t just in over her head. She was swimming with sharks and didn’t even know it.

They were unaware of my identity, their memories and mine diverging as swiftly as a river branching into separate tributaries. Emilio Vargas, the leader of the Black Shadow, exuded authority as he entered first. His piercing eyes were like twin obsidian orbs that took in every detail of the room. I knew him as the puppeteer, the mastermind behind the cartel's operations. I had fantasized about taking him down, but nothing seemed to stick on them; they had paid puppets in every step.

Harding pointed at me, sprawled on the ground, and asked mockingly, "Aren't you planning to take him back with you?" Eliza paused for a moment, then mercilessly grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. But after just a few staggering steps, I stumbled and fell to the ground again. Years of drug testing had long since deformed the bones throughout my body, and my skin and flesh were close to rotting away. Every single step was an immense torment to me. I was in so much pain that I broke out in a cold sweat, and a whimper escaped my lips. Seeing this, Christopher crouched down beside me with feigned innocence. A moment later, he suddenly burst into loud sobs.

“There are no wolf scents—if there were humans here, I would not be able to tell. But my attackers were definitely shifters!” “They were,” I say darkly. “It seems you were right. The enemy has managed to come up with a way to mask their scents. This could be how they are managing to ambush your kidnapped victims.” Leanna’s lips tremble for a moment. “They must have been following me all this time. They were probably waiting to strike, but they couldn’t find a time because you were always there. And if not you, Derrick.” “If they were able to mask their scent, I bet they were able to get close enough to you to overhear your conversation with your friend,” I tell her. “I want to know what you