Faking Identity
1829 Words
Chapter Six: Faking Identity
Cassandra Later That Night
“Why did you pull me away like that?” Cassandra asked quietly as Bosco closed her hotel room door.
“You were being watched.”
“By who?”
He hesitated.
“Jason.”
Cassandra’s heart plummeted.
“No,” she whispered. “He didn’t recognize me.”
“He recognized something.” Bosco’s voice was rough. “Your son is too much like him. One look is all he needs.”
Cassandra sank onto the edge of the bed, trembling.
“What do I do?” she whispered.
Bosco crouched before her. “You stay away from him. You stay close to me. And you leave with me the moment this holiday ends.”
She looked up at him, eyes shining with fear. “Bosco… will he find out?”
Bosco’s expression darkened, shadowed with a truth he couldn’t yet tell her.
“Yes, I will personally tell him, but this isn't the right time," he whispered. “If you stay here… he will.”
Cassandra closed her eyes.
"Goodnight," he bid as he left for his room.
And outside, the storm rolled toward the shore, as though the universe itself braced for the reckoning to come.
*****
Cassandra
The ocean shimmered in a soft, deceptive calm that did nothing to soothe Cassandra’s nerves. She stood beneath the shade of a coral-lined walkway, watching the resort’s afternoon bustle thicken. Laughter, clinking glasses, splashes from the infinity pool, all of it felt like a thin layer of music hiding a storm.
Her breath caught when she sensed him behind her.
Jason.
Four years, yet her body reacted before her mind could scold it. She forced herself to look unaffected, her posture relaxed, chin angled slightly away so her profile wasn’t too exposed.
“Thought it was you,” a deep voice said behind her.
God. She had forgotten how destructive his voice was. Rougher now, deeper, tinged with fatigue and something darker.
Cassandra didn’t turn fully.
“Are you talking to me?”
He stepped beside her, not close enough to alarm her, but close enough that she felt the warmth of him. Jason had always run warm, physically, emotionally, dangerously.
He squinted at her as if trying to read something invisible on her face.
“You look… familiar.”
Her heart did a reckless stumble. But she kept her expression indifferent.
“I have one of those faces.”
He studied her, silent for too long.
“You sure about that?” he murmured.
Cassandra swallowed.
Play dumb. Stay safe. Stay ordinary.
“Yes. Pretty sure.”
Jason tilted his head. “What’s your name?”
Her lie slid smoothly.
“Lana.”
It wasn’t the name she’d used in years, but it came to her instinctively, a relic from the life she’d built after disappearing.
Jason’s eyes narrowed.
“Lana… what?”
“Lana Mirell.”
A tiny, amused smirk ghosted across his lips.
“You’re fast with answers.”
“That supposed to be a compliment?” she deflected.
“An observation.”
The wind shifted, brushing hair across her cheek. Jason raised a hand as though to tuck it back behind her ear, then dropped it abruptly, as if catching himself guilty.
He inhaled.
“Have you been here long?”
“Two days.”
He stared at her mouth when she spoke.
“And do you always avoid eye contact,” he murmured, “or is that just for me?”
Cassandra froze.
He had always noticed everything.
She forced herself to meet his eyes, briefly.
Bad idea.
His pupils expanded, recognition flickering then vanishing, like someone catching a shadow in the corner of a room.
He stepped closer.
“Lana… have we met before?”
Her pulse hammered.
“No. We haven’t.”
But he didn’t believe her.
*****
Jason
He walked away because he had to.
Not because he wanted to.
His mind spun like a storm.
Who the hell was she?
Her voice was soft, careful, elegant, and it clung to some old memory he couldn’t quite grasp. Her eyes, too clear and too clever to belong to a stranger. And that subtle shake in her breath when he’d asked if they’d met…
Jason wasn’t stupid.
People didn’t look at him that way unless they knew.
Unless they remembered.
And there was something she was hiding. Something deep.
He reached the bar where Bosco and Maxwell were already arguing loud enough to draw glares from nearby guests.
Great. Another disaster waiting to happen.
“Jason!” Bosco barked. “Tell this prince of pretenders that Julie is lying.”
Maxwell’s jaw was locked.
“Your sister is sabotaging the itinerary, Bosco. She's moved the private dinner reservation, canceled the yacht, and scheduled us all into separate activities. This isn’t an accident.”
Julie, lounging on a sunbed nearby, twirled her drink straw with faux innocence.
“Oh please. You two just can’t handle structure.”
Jason ignored them all, running a hand through his hair.
His brain was stuck on one thing. Lana Mirell.
Who smiled like Cassandra.
Who flinched like Cassandra.
Who lied with the exact same softness Cassandra used when she tried to protect herself.
But it couldn’t be her.
Cassandra was gone, vanished like smoke after the betrayal no one talked about.
He exhaled shakily.
Why was he reacting like this?
*****
Cassandra
Cassandra ducked into a quieter part of the resort garden, hands trembling. She hated that Jason still had power over her body, her breath, her heartbeat. Hated it.
She had rebuilt her life.
Reinforced her walls.
Disguised her past.
He wasn’t supposed to see her again.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything ever again.
She leaned against a marble pillar, eyes shut...
“Found you.”
Her eyes snapped open.
Lyra stood three steps away, arms folded, sleek and predatory like a model ready to pounce.
“How long are you planning to pretend?” Lyra asked quietly.
A knife of panic slid through Cassandra’s ribs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lyra stepped closer.
“Oh, come on. I’m not an i***t. I saw how Jason looked at you. And how you looked at him.”
Cassandra stiffened.
Lyra’s lip curled.
“If you’re here to mess with him again, I won’t let you.”
“I’m not...”
“You broke him once,” Lyra hissed. “You don’t get to do it again.”
The words landed like blows.
Cassandra swallowed hard.
“I’m not here for Jason.”
“Then why are you here? Because fate is too poetic for coincidence.”
Cassandra tried to walk away, but Lyra blocked her.
“You can hide from him,” she said, “but not from me.”
*****
Jason
He couldn’t focus.
Not on Bosco yelling.
Not on Maxwell’s indignant threats.
Not on Julie smirking over another sabotage win.
His mind kept returning to her.
Lana.
The way she held tension in her shoulders exactly like...
He clenched his jaw.
He needed proof.
He needed certainty.
He needed answers.
So he quietly slipped away from the group, unnoticed.
He walked the resort grounds methodically, scanning every corridor, every reflective surface, every crowd cluster.
Looking for her.
Something was wrong in his chest, like a memory trying to claw its way out.
When he rounded the corner toward the garden walkway, he froze.
He heard voices.
Two women.
One panicked. One icy.
He recognized the icy one.
Lyra.
“…don’t get to lie again,” she was saying. “Not to him. Not to any of us.”
Jason’s blood turned to ice.
He stepped closer, silently, instinctively.
He saw Lyra.
And behind her, her.
Lana.
Shoulders tense, head lowered, hands shaking.
Jason’s pulse kicked hard.
Why was Lyra talking to her like she’d known her for years?
Why did “again” sting so badly?
He listened carefully.
“If you hurt him,” Lyra continued, “I swear...”
“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” the woman whispered.
Jason felt something fracture inside him.
That voice.
God. That voice.
He stepped forward.
“Lyra.”
Both women jerked toward him.
Lyra’s eyes widened. “Jason..!”
But he wasn’t looking at her.
His gaze locked on Lana.
On the slight fear in her eyes.
On the recognition she tried, and failed, to hide.
He walked closer, slowly.
“Why,” he said softly, dangerously, “is Lyra talking to you like you two know each other?”
Lana didn’t speak.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
And Jason saw it, clearly now.
The truth, trembling behind her mask.
His voice came out low.
“…Who are you?”
*****
Cassandra
Her heart thundered.
Jason was too close.
Too perceptive.
Too familiar.
She couldn’t slip away.
She couldn’t lie cleanly.
She couldn’t survive this confrontation.
But she tried.
“I told you. My name is...”
“Don’t,” Jason murmured, stepping closer. “Don’t insult me.”
His eyes, sharp, burning and searching, scanned her face inch by inch.
Her cheekbones.
Her eyelashes.
Her mouth.
She whispered, barely audible, “Jason…”
His breath hitched.
Just once.
A small, trembling reaction he probably didn’t realize escaped him.
Lyra exhaled sharply, backing away as though the air had turned electric.
“Jason,” Cassandra forced herself to say, steadying her voice, “I’m not who you think...”
“You’re lying,” he said quietly. “And I don’t know why. But I’ll find out.”
Her stomach tightened.
Jason wasn’t guessing anymore.
He was hunting.
And she had seconds to save herself.
She stepped back, masking her shaking hands behind her.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just leave it alone.”
Jason stared at her like she was a puzzle he had once mastered and now couldn’t resist solving again.
“No,” he said. “Not this time.”
The break in his voice nearly destroyed her.
She turned before he could see her tears.
But Jason called out.
“Cassandra?”
Her entire world stopped.
She inhaled, shattered, then whispered.
“You’re mistaken.”
And she walked away.
Not fast enough to seem panicked.
Not slow enough to seem fearless.
Just enough to break him again.
*****
Jason
He stood there, chest burning, fists clenched.
Lyra whispered, “Jason..!”
“Don’t.”
He watched Lana... Cassandra?.. disappear into the corridor.
His mind roared.
His gut screamed.
His heart whispered the name he hadn’t allowed himself to say in years.
Cassandra.
It had to be her.
He could feel it in his bones.
And if it was…
She was lying.
Hiding.
Running.
Again.
Jason breathed out, trembling with something between longing and fury.
“Fine,” he said under his breath.
“If she wants to hide…”
He turned in the direction she’d gone, eyes narrowing.
“…then I’ll just have to find her.”
- Writer
