Beneath the Billionaire Mask - Chapter 34: Chapter 34

New York City – Blackwood Private Terminal – 6:27 AM
The skyline looked different this time.
Sharper. Colder.
Elena stepped off the jet with Adrian behind her, the city’s light cutting through the morning haze like judgment. The buildings that once inspired awe now loomed like silent witnesses to the web she was walking into.
“Home,” Adrian muttered, his voice laced with irony. “If you can still call it that.”
They moved quickly. No welcoming committee. No press. No trail—at least, not the one they had laid.
But someone else had.
Because within seconds of scanning her ID at the checkpoint…
ACCESS DENIED
CREDENTIALS LOCKED
ALTERNATE PROFILE ACTIVE: CRUZ_E.98
“What the hell is .98?” Elena whispered.
The officer frowned. “Ma’am… this ID’s already been used this morning.”
Elena’s blood chilled. “By who?”
“I don’t know. The logs are sealed.”
Adrian stepped in fast, flashing an encrypted badge. “Override. Now.”
But it didn’t matter.
The system didn’t just lock her out.
It replaced her.
Blackwood Foundation HQ – Midtown Manhattan – 7:41 AM
Security had been doubled.
Cameras followed them the second they entered the plaza, and a holographic scan misfired halfway through Elena’s facial check—reading her, then rejecting her. As if she were both there and not.
Inside, Julia met them at the elevator, lips pursed, holding her phone like a loaded gun.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all night,” she hissed. “Where the hell have you been?”
Elena blinked. “We were underground. Off-grid. I told you that.”
“No. She told me that.”
A beat of silence.
“Who?”
“You. Two hours ago. Said you landed last night. Gave me a list of new archive names. Ordered a transfer of the Black Archive to a cloud hub in Iceland.”
Elena’s knees nearly buckled.
“Julia,” she said carefully, “that wasn’t me.”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me someone else walked in here, used your voice, your face, your memories—”
“—and she’s in the system now,” Adrian finished. “SIGMA didn’t just build a Mirror. They deployed it.”
Julia took a shaky step back. “Jesus.”
“They’ve activated the real Phase Two,” Elena added. “She’s not just copying me. She’s replacing me.”
Elsewhere in New York – 8:13 AM
A black SUV pulled up at a hotel valet.
The Mirror stepped out.
Perfect posture. Elena’s smile. Elena’s voice.
But the cold beneath the surface—undeniable.
Inside her coat pocket sat the Black Archive remote command key.
And in her other hand? A burner phone already set to call one number:
SIGMA NYC NODE – Failsafe Access: INITIATE NIGHTFALL
Blackwood HQ – Emergency Archive Room – 8:21 AM
Adrian’s fingers flew across the terminal keys. “I might be able to trace her movement. She logged into Julia’s network from inside the city—meaning she hasn’t gone dark yet.”
“She’s taunting me,” Elena said. “This isn’t covert. She wants me to see it.”
Julia looked up. “You think she’s trying to finish your mission?”
“No,” Elena replied. “She’s trying to rewrite it. If the Archive gets uploaded into SIGMA’s control, then every name on that list—including my father—gets erased or weaponized.”
Adrian slammed his palm on the desk. “Then we need to catch her before that happens.”
“But how do you chase a version of yourself,” Julia whispered, “when you’re not sure who’s more real?”
Blackwood HQ – Emergency Archive Room – 8:28 AM
Silence pulsed like static.
Elena stood over the holographic display, watching the reconstruction of the last 24 hours unfold. The Mirror had used her access codes flawlessly. She had spoken to staff, updated permissions, even walked the same route Elena once took when investigating Adrian.
“She remembers what I remember,” Elena murmured. “Every press conference. Every floor plan. Every person who ever told me something in confidence.”
Julia folded her arms. “And she manipulated all of it.”
“No,” Adrian said suddenly. “She curated it.”
They turned to him.
He pointed to a narrow surveillance split-screen from the executive floor.
The Mirror—Elena’s double—speaking to a group of foundation investors. Calm. Poised. Disarming.
“She’s not hiding,” he continued. “She’s performing. She wants the board to believe she’s the better version—a clean Elena. No scandals. No emotion.”
“She’s stealing my credibility,” Elena whispered. “Rebuilding my identity… without me.”
Julia’s phone buzzed. She glanced down and froze. “She just published a press release.”
“What?” Adrian stepped forward.
Julia read aloud:
“In response to mounting security threats, I—Elena Cruz—have taken steps to ensure the safety of all Foundation archives. I have enacted a full digital migration under the Blackwood Initiative, safeguarding our partners and historical assets from interference.”
Elena’s pulse thundered. “She’s not hiding the takeover. She’s using my voice to justify it.”
“She’s also reshaping your reputation,” Adrian added. “Crisis control. Preemptive PR. She’s cleaning your slate.”
“And burning everything that made me dangerous,” Elena said, her voice low. “No history, no scars, no father. Just the sanitized face of SIGMA’s favorite puppet.”
She slammed her hand on the table.
“I’m not letting her finish this.”
New York – Central Park Safe Point – 9:12 AM
The trees whispered around her.
Elena walked alone this time, hair tucked under a cap, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
They needed space to think—to plan without the Mirror watching.
Liana joined her on the stone bridge near the east entrance, slipping her a burner phone and an encrypted card.
“She’s good,” Liana admitted. “But she made one mistake.”
Elena tilted her head. “What?”
“She’s you. But she’s not Julia’s Elena. Not my Elena. Not Adrian’s.”
Liana held up a screen. A photo flashed.
A selfie the Mirror had taken earlier. Carefully staged.
Too perfect.
“No shadows under her eyes,” Liana said. “No scratch on her wrist from that fall in Bogotá. No broken knuckle.”
Elena looked down at her own hand, the bruised joint still healing.
Liana leaned in. “You’ve suffered. You’ve bled for this. She hasn’t. That’s how we expose her.”
“How?”
Liana’s grin was sharp.
“We give her something only the real Elena would refuse.”
Blackwood HQ – 9:41 AM
The trap was simple.
Elena—the real Elena—scheduled a secret meeting with the board through Julia’s unregistered terminal, bypassing all digital protocol.
The message read:
“I’m aware of a breach. Meet me face-to-face. I will show you which Elena deserves your trust.”
And she sent it from the original foundation cryptographic chain.
The one SIGMA didn’t know existed.
Unknown Location – Same Time
The Mirror’s eyes narrowed as her terminal pinged.
She read the message. Then smiled.
“Clever,” she murmured.
But not clever enough.
Because the real Elena had made a fatal mistake.
She assumed the Mirror wouldn’t show up.
Blackwood Foundation HQ – Executive Boardroom – 10:03 AM
Twelve board members sat in silence, hands folded, eyes sharp.
They didn’t know it yet—but they were about to be the audience to a war far more personal than corporate succession or digital migration.
They were about to meet two Elenas.
The double entered first.
Perfect. Polished. Clad in a dark emerald suit, the same one Elena had worn the day she confronted the board six months ago. A symbolic move. A power move.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said with Elena’s voice, smooth and sure. “We’ve reached a critical point. I want to clarify the changes I’ve made and prove they’re in the Foundation’s best interest.”
She paced slowly—controlled. Rehearsed.
“Phase Two was never about hiding the Archive. It was about liberating it from political contamination. I’ve taken necessary steps to ensure—”
The doors burst open.
Heads turned.
And there she stood.
The real Elena.
Hair still windblown. Bruise visible on her knuckle. No makeup, no suit—just the core of who she was.
Raw. Unfiltered. True.
The double froze mid-sentence.
Elena stepped forward. No hesitation.
“Don’t listen to her,” she said to the board. “She’s not me.”
Murmurs erupted. Confusion blurred the line between logic and disbelief.
The double recovered quickly.
“This is exactly what I warned you about,” the Mirror said. “An imposter. Someone who’s stolen my credentials.”
“I’ve earned everything I have,” Elena cut in. “And if you really are me, then tell them what happened in Bogotá. Tell them what Evelyn Blackwood said to me right before the vault detonated.”
The Mirror faltered.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Elena walked straight up to her and raised her hand—showing the bruised knuckle. Then lifted her sleeve to reveal the scar on her arm from Colombia.
“Where are yours?”
The board was silent.
Julia stepped into the room, holding a tablet.
“I decrypted the raw biometric feed,” she announced. “Time-stamped logs from Cruz’s retinal scanner. This one—” she pointed to Elena, “—is synced to ten unique incidents from the last six months. Internal injuries. Remote bio-pings. The other? Clean.”
Elena stared at her double.
“Tell them the truth, if you’re me.”
The Mirror didn’t blink. She just… smiled.
Cold. Dismissive.
Then she turned to the board.
“If you let her speak another word, this company burns. SIGMA will bury every person in this room. I am the firewall between this Foundation and extinction.”
One of the board members stood slowly.
“And if you’re the firewall… what does that make her?”
The Mirror didn’t answer.
She bolted.
Elena ran after her.
Blackwood HQ – South Stairwell – 10:14 AM
Their footsteps echoed violently—two sets, identical, rushing down twenty flights in under a minute.
“Where are you going?” Elena shouted. “You can’t erase me.”
The Mirror spun around midway down a landing, eyes flashing. “No. But I can replace you.”
She lunged..
They collided hard—grappling in the stairwell, striking with brutal symmetry.
Same moves.
Same strength.
But only one of them had something to lose
As security scrambled and alarms blared above, Adrian reached the stairwell door—
Just in time to hear two Elenas scream.
Then silence.
And one of them fell.