CHAPTER 456: REALIZING SOMETHING’S OFF

After registering her fingerprints, the new phone arrived shortly after.

The woman removed the SIM card from her broken phone and inserted it into the new one. She opened her contact list and smiled with satisfaction.

At dinner, she naturally took her usual seat. When Logan came downstairs, his steps slowed for a moment.

He didn’t know why, but a strange sense of uncertainty kept gnawing at him.

Selina had been found. She was right there, sitting exactly where she always did.

And yet... the unease in Logan’s chest never left.

"Logan, what’s wrong? Come eat," she said cheerfully.

"Yeah," Logan replied. "Coming."

As he sat beside her, he caught a whiff of perfume—one he didn’t recognize. Selina rarely wore perfume at home, and this scent seemed like it was masking something else entirely.

Logan’s discomfort deepened.

He glanced at her casually.

She set her utensils down and tilted her head. "Logan, is something on my face?"

Logan replied calmly, "No. I was just wondering if your ankle still hurts."

She smiled sweetly. "Not at all. I’m fine now."

Logan nodded.

After dinner, the woman asked the maid to help her back upstairs. Miller Butler, still a little shaken, said, "Sir, you said madam fell in the underground garage? Thank goodness you found her in time..."

Logan asked offhandedly, "Luke invited Selina to the stables?"

"Yes," Miller Butler replied. "Young master said he even booked the whole place just for her. Too bad she hurt her foot..."

"Tell Luke it’s still on," Logan said evenly.

Miller Butler looked confused. "But madam’s ankle—"

"She’ll be fine," Logan said, voice slow and calm. "I’ll go too. There’s more to the stables than just riding horses. Didn’t Luke say that international equestrian team is performing? Let her enjoy the show."

That seemed reasonable enough.

Once Miller Butler left, Logan stood alone in the living room, his gaze narrowing.

No one else seemed to think this "Selina" was off. But Logan couldn’t shake the feeling.

...Maybe he was just overthinking it?

He returned to the master bedroom. As soon as he opened the door, he heard the woman’s voice: "Logan, I’m tired today. Let’s go to bed early."

Logan saw she was already lying down, wrapped in a robe from the wardrobe, her hair spilling over the pillow like she belonged there—as if she were the only woman who had ever lived in that room.

From any angle, she looked exactly like Selina. Same face. Same voice. Same height. Not a single flaw to point out.

But Logan still felt slightly sick.

He shut his eyes. This wasn’t Selina. It couldn’t be. The details were perfect, but the feeling... the feeling was all wrong.

"Logan, why aren’t you coming?" she called again, sitting up, walking over in her robe, swaying with each step. She reached for his shoulders.

Logan stepped to the side, his tone feigning surprise. "You’re sleeping here tonight?"

She froze—barely noticeable, but he saw it. "Why not, Logan?"

"Nothing," Logan replied calmly. "It’s just... you’ve been mad at me lately. Insisting on sleeping in the guest room. I didn’t expect you to come back tonight."

"I..."

She paused, clearly caught off guard. She opened her mouth, unsure what to say.

"It’s okay. I know you’re still upset," Logan said gently. "I’ll sleep in the guest room. Think things through, and we’ll talk, alright?"

She wanted to stop him—but didn’t know what he thought she was supposedly angry about. After an awkward beat, she gave a soft smile and nodded. "Alright."

Logan’s expression darkened instantly.

He and Selina had never fought. There was no talk of sleeping in separate rooms.

Yet the woman in front of him—who looked exactly like Selina—didn’t question a single word he said.

She stood there in her bathrobe, and Logan quietly let his eyes drift to her wrist.

The moment he saw it, his breath caught. His mind rang like an alarm.

There was no scar.

Selina had burned her wrist at the hotpot restaurant yesterday. That burn wouldn’t fade for at least a month.

But this woman’s wrist was smooth, pale, unmarked.

She wasn’t Selina.

If this woman wasn’t Selina—then where was she?

Someone who looked just like Selina, sounded just like Selina, had suddenly appeared. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Had this woman taken Selina? Was Selina in danger?

The realization hit Logan like a thunderclap—this woman was here to take Selina’s place. To impersonate her.

To steal Selina’s identity, and claim everything that belonged to her.

Her connections. Her power. Her lineage. All of it—this woman wanted to make it hers.

Logan’s fingers curled into fists. He wanted to grab her by the throat and scream at her—how dare you pretend to be Selina?!

But he couldn’t tip her off.

A face this identical—if it were plastic surgery, it couldn’t have been done overnight. It must’ve taken years of careful work.

And the voice—perfectly mimicked.

This woman had prepared to impersonate Selina for years.

Years of planning. Years of expense. Just to become Selina?

Even if Selina was now SL’s chairwoman, backed by the Foster Family and others, and married to him—who could’ve predicted all that back when she was the unwanted daughter of the Clarks?

So why had this woman been preparing to become Selina years ago?

Logan took a slow, deep breath. He had to find Selina—fast—and without alarming this imposter.

At the same time... he had to monitor every move this woman made.

Logan’s tone didn’t shift. "Get some rest. No need to go to the office tomorrow. I’ll have Miller Butler stay home to take care of you. Also—"

He looked at her with feigned ease. "Luke invited you to the stables on Saturday. I accepted for you. Even with your ankle, they’ve got a riding show. Thought you’d enjoy it."

The woman smiled. "I’d love to go riding with Luke."

Logan nodded. "You’re not going into the office, but SL business can’t stop. Should I have Mr. Brooks come here, or will you handle things online?"

She stiffened, almost imperceptibly. "That’s too much trouble for Mr. Brooks. I’ll just handle things online."

Logan gave a slight nod and stepped out of the room. The moment the door shut behind him, his eyes turned cold and sharp.

She didn’t want to see Mr. Brooks.

Not just him—she didn’t want to see anyone from Reid Group.

And yet she’d confidently moved into Sapphire Valley Villa. She wasn’t afraid of slipping up in front of him, or in front of Miller Butler... or even Luke.

Which meant...