"I'm the one they call Master Streak. The gifts last night, the two hundred million, that was me. I did it because I've admired you for a long time."
Sophie's expression didn't change. Not a flicker of warmth. Not a trace of surprise.
Her gaze moved over Damien with the slow, clinical assessment of a woman who had seen this exact performance before and found it even less convincing the second time around.
Her eyes shifted briefly to the row of bodyguards behind him. Then to his watch. Then to the practiced smile that was starting to look more strained with each passing second of silence.
"Get lost," she said. "Imposter."
The word landed like a slap.
Damien's smile froze. His eyes darted sideways, past Sophie, through the car's interior, and landed on Stan for the second time. This time he completely disposed the thought of Stan being a driver...
"Who is this kid?"
