Professional Body Double Novel Novels & Stories

"The body does not lie, even when the person does. Even when they have spent months becoming someone else entirely. If Roberta Alfred is Elena Crane, white lilies would expose her within minutes. Not with documents. Not with investigators or journalists or any paper trail. With her own body, in front of whoever happens to be standing in the room when it happens." The words settled over the apartment and stayed there.

**“He knew about Silas’s past. He knew about the cabin. He was hunting Doc *before* we even hit the winery.” Reynolds clicked on a final file: **CONTINGENCY: SCORPION**. It showed architectural blueprints. Rossi’s Manhattan penthouse. Highlighted in red: structural weak points. Annotations in Dominic’s precise hand: **"Collapse protocols. Maximum deniability."** **“He’s planning something big,”** Harlan growled, staring at the blueprint. **“Something that needs a lot of bodies buried.”**

Someone might see my beautiful body. Alright…I’ll sleep lady-like. He seems just like my brother. Worried and concern. Thanks Joeff… Goodnight. I cover myself with the blanket and try to sleep… again. @DEATH WISH Thank you for supporting my Novel! You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update) Title: TAMING THE DANGEROUS CEO THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE FATED TO MARRY THE DEVIL Thank you so much!

Chapter 19: Living two different lives. Living a double life was proving to be more challenging than I ever imagined. By day, I played the role of a humble waitress, serving tables alongside my best friend, Rachel. But as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, I shed my apron and slipped into the world of the elite, rubbing shoulders with the wealthy and privileged. During the day, I was Jessica Raye, the hardworking waitress, but by nightfall, I transformed into someone entirely different—a sophisticated socialite, mingling effortlessly with the upper crust. It was a charade, a masquerade of sorts, and I was the master of disguise.

The day I found out I was pregnant, Mia Bell—my husband Julian Moretti's personal secretary—posted on Instagram. "Boss, thank you for taking such good care of me. Who says you can't be pregnant and still get spoiled?" In the photo, Mia wore nothing but lace underwear and leaned against a man's chest as she took a selfie. His hand rested on the smooth curve of her belly. On his ring finger was the Don's signet ring—one I would have recognized anywhere. I left a one-word comment: "Congratulations." Seconds later, Mia called me in a panic to apologize. She claimed she'd only posted the photo to provoke her boyfriend after a fight. Julian Moretti took the phone from her and said in a low voice,

’ Isolde thought silently. Isolde noted the placement of the two moles beneath the hitman’s eyes. It turned out the man had been described in the novel. She thought to herself, ‘I was just guessing earlier, but it turns out this guy was the one who was supposed to kill Bjorden, not target Bastiven and me. The longer this goes on, the harder it is to predict where the plot is going!’ Realizing this, Isolde resolved to win the assassin over to Devereux’s side. Because in the novel, the assassin named Jay would ultimately side with Bjorden and help him launch a surprise attack on the emperor’s residence.

He wa​s already reaching fo⁠r his mobile⁠, th⁠umbs po‌ised over⁠ th​e sc‍reen. ⁠"They found a signi‌f​ica‌nt anomaly," James continued, his t‍one dropp‌ing into a confide​n‌tia‍l regi⁠ster‌.⁠ "Your driver, P⁠eter. His entire profil‌e, employme‌nt history, references, cert‍ifications, it's a profes‍s⁠ional-g‌rade fabrication. The kind onl‍y a h‍andful of firms can produce. He's a cont‌ract ag​ent for a bou‍tique f​i​rm called Aegis Group. Th‌ey don't advertise. Th‍ey‌'re corpora⁠te spies, E‌lar​a. The r​eal thing." ‌

Romeo took his seat and adjusted it, dragging it towards the table and leaning forward to shorten the distance between them. "You are a supermodel Bria and you're an excellent one! We can't let this take away other potential jobs with the big Clients. We worked so hard for this and Vinci is not to be messed with. He is one of the major players in the fashion industry here in italy and..." "... Can we skip to the main part, my ears ache and I have to be out of here in like ..say.." Bria lifted her left hand, looking at her wrist watch. ".. 5 to 10 minutes?.." She interrupted.

After a scoff, I pulled out my phone's SIM card and tossed it into the trash. Meanwhile, Andrew, who had been enjoying the sunset by the sea with Daisy, heard his phone ring. "We've got a problem! Mrs. Rasmussen is missing! There's a document left behind on her bed. You should come see for yourself." Andrew, who had been helping Daisy put on her bikini cover-up, froze mid-motion. "Eleanor's missing? And what document are you talking about?" "The nurse said Mrs. Rasmussen left in the middle of the night. The document is... a divorce agreement."

The neon glow of the diner across the street flickered hazily, casting distorted silhouettes on the cracked pavement. She gripped her camera - more than a tool, it was her armor - and waited. The town had been whispering about the murders for weeks, hushed gossip trailing every corner like poison: mutilated bodies discovered in the dead of night, all linked by an unspoken horror. And none had been caught. Lena came for answers. She would not let the darkness swallow her sister’s memory without a fight. Footsteps echoed nearby slowly, deliberately. She steadied her nerves and raised the camera. From the shadows emerged a tall and commanding figure, his presence almost a physical force. Jeremy