Sussy Imposter Novels & Stories

The one who kissed me like punishment and touched me like I was his only salvation. He comes to me like a shadow, determined and slow. The fake one—Britney—stands beside the marking stone, draped in white. Her eyes burn with triumph. But she’s already lost. She just doesn’t know it yet. He stops in front of me. And I lift my chin. “Come closer,” I whisper. “Just one last time.” He growls under his breath. “You have a death wish, impostor .” “No,” I say, smiling softly. “Just the truth.”

“Why all the questions?” Why? I gave a small, humorless laugh. I preferred to tell him the truth, so I did. “Well, in that case…” I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I found the impostor.” His brows lifted slightly, but there was no real surprise. If anything, his expression was more… resigned. As if he’d been waiting for this moment. “I found her,” I continued, voice calm and deliberate.. “But before I could make her pay, I wanted to know the complete story.”

I walked over to the couch in his office grabbed my bag and made my walk of shame out of the giant office. But how did I end up being called an imposter? Well, it was all my mother's fault and partly mine for letting her talk me into doing this. ** Months Earlier "Hey, mum" I excitedly said through the video call as I walked around with the phone in my hand around my three-roomed apartment. "Hey, Mum? Emelia is that the way you greet your mother after not talking to her for four months?" She questioned as I broadly smiled at her, my mother is a drama queen.

The clusters of power you could always tell them from the way people angled toward them, the way even unconscious body language deferred. She was tracking a man near the far side of the room when she registered the shift. Something changed in the room’s gravity. She didn’t understand it at first. Then she did. He had just walked in. Not walked in, arrived. There was a difference. Damien Hawthorne didn’t enter a room so much as the room reorganised itself around him. People turned without meaning to. Conversations paused and resumed at a different pitch. He was wearing a black tuxedo that fit like it had been made specifically for his body, which it almost certainly had, and he moved through

But now, he pulled me closer and gently patted my waist. I understood his signal. He was asking me to wait for the right moment to speak. Currently, I was being bombarded with questions, but he signaled for me to remain silent. I had no choice but to endure it. I believed he wouldn't leave me in this passive state forever, but I was growing increasingly impatient. The imposter seemed intent on pushing me to my limits, ready to condemn me outright. So, she spoke up again tauntingly, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"I'm not what?" That poisonously sweet voice cut through my pleas, grabbing their attention with ease. Imposter Andromeda stepped into the office, her face a mask of concern and confusion. She was a brilliant actor, the way she studied my huddled form with hesitation. As though she wasn't the one who put me in such a state.

Sheeshan ran into the hallway to make sure everything was still okay. Trixie made it a point to go over and talk to the imposter. She didn't want anyone to suspect anything. According to Zeek, if Sheeshan pulled this off, she would have nothing else to worry about. The fake Dane looked suspicious when she walked up, and right away she regretted coming over, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Her plan was to say hello and leave, but before a word could be uttered, a small group surrounded her. All the people were strangers. Trixie cursed herself for being so stubborn and not listening to Sheeshan. The Dane imposter transformed right in front of her, and she lost all hope of surviv

And of course, waiting near the fountain, Sussy stood in oversized sunglasses, a polka-dot scarf wrapped dramatically around her head like an old-fashioned spy. Annie froze. “What… are you wearing?” Becky burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh, Sussy, you look like you’re auditioning for a movie.” Sussy crossed her arms with mock seriousness. “Don’t you guys know anything about being undercover agents? What if Claire passes by before going to school and sees us here with Damien? Huh? How will we explain that?” Becky groaned. “It’s eight in the morning, Sussy. Nobody’s spying on us.”

“If you scream, they will come running. And I do not want to hurt you.” “Then stop pretending to be him!” I pulled free and backed away, putting the console between us. “You will never be him. Not really. He would never doubt me. He would never lock me in a room and walk away.” The man’s expression shifted. Just for a second. Something flickered behind his eyes. “He almost did,” the imposter said quietly. “When he saw the evidence. When he read the logs. He hesitated. He doubted. Just for a moment. That was all we needed. Love is strong, yes. But fear… fear works much faster.”

Each item listed was proof of Christopher's crimes. He had faked mental impairment for five years, all just to frame me. Even the car accident back then had been entirely his own doing. From the very moment I came back, he had used every means possible to frame me. And as though blind, Eliza had believed whatever he said. Perhaps she had her suspicions in the very beginning. But Christopher's relentless manipulations had kept her from ever looking into it, until all that remained was her disappointment in me. As she looked at the documents in her hands, she sank into endless anguish. Christopher was the true culprit behind my death, and she had played the role of his willing executioner.