THE BILLIONAIRE IMPOSTER Episode 1 — Part 3

THE BILLIONAIRE IMPOSTER

Episode 1 — Part 3

I think she might be your mother.

Sloane read the message again.

Then again.

Claire Bennett.

For twenty years, the name Bennett had meant nothing.

It was simply the surname written on the paperwork that followed her from foster home to foster home.

Now suddenly it belonged to someone.

Maybe even her mother.

Sloane typed back.

How do you know her?

Julian's response came immediately.

She worked for my family.

Sloane's stomach tightened.

The Vales?

A pause.

Then:

Yes.

---

They agreed to meet after Sloane finished work.

Julian suggested somewhere private.

Sloane deliberately chose a busy coffee shop instead.

Related or not, she wasn't meeting some random man from the internet in a secluded location.

At exactly six, Julian walked through the door.

Sloane recognised him immediately.

He looked around until his eyes landed on her.

Then he stopped.

Seeing her photograph had been strange.

Seeing her in person was different.

Sloane stood.

“Julian?”

“Yeah.”

He stared for half a second too long.

Sloane raised an eyebrow.

“Are you planning on sitting down, or is staring a Vale family tradition?”

Julian laughed nervously.

“Sorry.”

He sat opposite her and placed a folder on the table.

“You look even more like her in person.”

Sloane's eyes dropped to the folder.

“Claire?”

Julian nodded.

“You remember her?”

“Bits. I was five. She worked at my uncle's house.”

“Alexander Vale?”

“Yeah.”

Sloane leaned back.

This was getting ridiculous.

“So my possible mother worked for the man who owns the company I work for?”

“Apparently.”

“Brilliant.”

Julian smiled slightly.

“You always this sarcastic?”

“Usually worse.”

For the first time, he relaxed.

Then Sloane looked at the folder again.

“Show me.”

Julian opened it.

He pulled out an old photograph and slid it across the table.

Sloane looked down.

And everything around her seemed to disappear.

The woman couldn't have been much older than Sloane was now.

Blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

Soft features.

She was standing beside a much younger Alexander Vale at some sort of garden party.

Sloane picked up the photograph.

“She looks like me.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean…”

Sloane swallowed.

She'd never said those words before.

Not once in twenty years.

Nobody had ever had her eyes.

Her nose.

Her smile.

She'd grown up surrounded by families who could point at photographs and say you've got your mum's eyes or you look exactly like your dad at that age.

Sloane had never had that.

Until now.

“Where is she?”

Julian's expression changed.

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean?”

“She disappeared.”

“When?”

Julian hesitated.

“Around the time you were born.”

Sloane stared at him.

“So she gets pregnant, disappears, and a newborn baby with her surname gets surrendered?”

“That's what it looks like.”

“Who was she dating?”

“I was five, Sloane.”

“Someone in your family must know.”

“They might.”

“Then ask them.”

Julian shook his head.

“Not yet.”

Sloane's expression hardened.

“Why?”

“Because if Claire disappeared for a reason, walking into my uncle's house and announcing that I've found a twenty-year-old woman who looks exactly like his former nanny might not be the smartest move.”

Sloane hated that he had a point.

“So what do we do?”

“We find out what happened to Claire first.”

---

Across Los Angeles, the Vale family were sitting down for dinner.

Their home overlooked the city from behind enormous gates.

Alexander Vale sat at the head of the table, barely looking up from his phone.

At fifty-two, he still had the commanding presence that had helped turn Vale Media into a billion-dollar empire.

“Can you put that away for one meal?” Victoria asked.

Alexander glanced at his wife.

“I'm working.”

“You're always working.”

Across from them, their daughter Isabella sighed.

“Please don't start.”

Victoria looked at her.

Isabella was twenty.

Beautiful.

Long, dark wavy hair.

Brown eyes.

Warm, olive-toned skin.

Nothing like the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Alexander.

But nobody had ever questioned it.

Children didn't always look like their parents.

“Mateo!”

Isabella suddenly called toward the open patio doors.

A man appeared moments later carrying a tennis racket.

Mateo Cruz.

The family's tennis coach.

He'd worked for the Vales for more than twenty years.

“Still practising tomorrow?” he asked Isabella.

“Obviously.”

Mateo smiled.

The same crooked smile Isabella had.

Victoria noticed.

She always noticed.

Her hand tightened slightly around her wine glass.

Alexander didn't.

He never had.

---

Back at the coffee shop, Sloane was still studying Claire's photograph.

Then something caught her eye.

Claire was wearing a sleeveless summer dress.

Sloane pulled the photograph closer.

“Julian…”

“What?”

She didn't answer.

Her eyes were fixed on Claire's arm.

A pale mark began near her wrist.

It twisted upward.

Uneven.

Distinctive.

Sloane slowly pushed up the sleeve of her own jumper.

Julian looked from the photograph…

to Sloane's arm.

His face went pale.

The birthmark stretched from her wrist toward her shoulder.

Almost identical.

Sloane stared at the first person she'd ever seen who carried the same mark she did.

Her voice broke.

“She really is my mother.”

Julian didn't answer.

Because he'd noticed something else in the photograph.

Alexander wasn't looking at the camera.

He was looking at Claire.

And his hand was resting against the small of her back.

Far too intimately for an employer and his nanny.

Julian slowly turned the photograph over.

There was handwriting on the back.

A date.

And two words.

Claire & Alex.

Julian looked at Sloane.

“Sloane…”

She lifted her eyes.

“What?”

Julian swallowed.

“I don't think finding your mother is the only secret in this photograph.”

END OF EPISODE 1