Fakeheir

The Lombardos' long-lost son turned out to be some "scam-busting" influencer. He stormed into the company with my fiancée, cut me off mid–quarterly report, pointed straight at me, and went live. "Drop a comment if you're watching. Blow this up. I'm exposing a fake heir who stole someone else's life!" His crew dragged me offstage, ripped my suit, and shoved me into a neon vest stamped with "FAKE." "A fake's always fake. Never real. I'm ripping off your mask. If you're smart, get on your knees, hand over the CEO seat, and get lost!" I glanced at his parents—faces drained—and gave him one warning. "You don't get to call me a fraud. For their sake, apologize now, and I'll let it go." The room buzzed. Everyone thought I'd snapped, waiting for the "fake heir" to crash and burn. They had no clue. I wasn't the fake. I was the one the whole family answered to.

On my very first day studying abroad, my mom brought her real son back home. Within two years, he had won over every single person in the family. By the time I came back, she tossed a signed disownment agreement in my face. "To be honest, I've always thought you were pretty selfish. All you care about is money. You refuse to hand over control of the company, and you never show any real concern for us as parents. Thank God my real son isn't that cold-blooded. So do the right thing—hand over your shares and walk away from this family on your own." She stood there waiting for me to break down, to beg her to let me stay. But I just let out a quiet sigh and pulled out a DNA test linking me to my grandfather—her father. "Mom, I'm not your biological son—that much is true. But I am the biological grandson of the man who actually runs the Harrison family. The one who should be leaving the Harrison family isn't me—it's you."

One year after I was confirmed to be a fake heir, all my friends said I was like a completely different person. I was no longer spoiled or entitled. I no longer desperately sought even a passing glance from my parents. And I no longer exhausted myself trying every possible way to win Jane Fraser's love. The harsh reality of financial hardship left me running ragged every day. It also made me understand, with painful clarity, that affection and romance were the most useless things in this world. As they wished, I stopped fighting. I stopped competing for anything at all. Later, when Jane brought the real heir back home, I simply went quietly to the guest room and waited in silence, ready to give up everything that once belonged to me. But those who had long wanted me to be obedient and well-behaved were suddenly driven mad. They asked me, over and over, why I had stopped fighting back.

At the family recognition banquet meant to introduce the real heiress, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: [So, the real heiress tried to get back at the fake one by stealing the engagement gift from her and the male lead and got caught red-handed.] [Even if she’s technically the fiancée, he knows who he really loves. The fake heiress is the one he actually wants.] [What fiancée? She’s just a thief. Send her back to whatever slum she crawled out of.] Dressed in a princess gown and surrounded by admirers, the fake heiress, Luna Lawson, walked up to me: “Risa, you’re finally back. Mom, Dad, and I have missed you so much. From now on, we’re a family.” I quietly kept eating my fried chicken. When Luna saw me ignore her, her eyes suddenly reddened. Then she reached into my worn backpack and pulled out a ladies’ wristwatch. “Why did you steal the engagement gift Brian gave me? I know you’re dissatisfied with me, but that doesn’t mean you can become a thief!” My fiancé, Brian Cook, looked at me with open disgust. “Return it to Luna right now, then get out of this house.” Under the scornful gazes of the guests, I pointed at the man on stage, my father, who was clinking glasses with Luna’s adoptive father, and asked in confusion. “What exactly did I steal? I’m not here for some family reunion. I just came along with my boss to grab a free meal.” The comments exploded: [This is way too awkward. She’s not the real heiress; she’s just an employee?!]

I was not the true heiress of my family. When the biological daughter finally turned up, she was rail-thin and sunken-eyed. My parents felt so guilty that they immediately offered her a compensation package. She said, “I’m your actual daughter. If you’re going to compensate me, then give me the company.” Everyone tried to persuade me. “You’re not the biological daughter after all. It’s time to give her back her place.” I smiled and handed everything over without a fight. The very next day, our major clients, our core tech team, and all our distribution partners announced that they would only work with me. My parents panicked and hurried over to beg me. I folded my arms. “Go ask your biological daughter to come and beg for my help herself.”

It all started when my sister made an offhand remark while sponsoring a poor student. She told him it was a coincidence that we were born on the same day, at the exact hour too. That comment made him convince himself that he was the real heir, that we were switched at birth. Soon after, he showed up with two thugs, kidnapped me, and planned to kill me to reclaim his life. I called my fiancée for help in desperation. Instead of saving me, she told me impatiently that I deserved to die for stealing his life. Her friend showed up to save me, but neither of us made it out alive after I was pushed into the river. I was back on the day when I was kidnapped when I opened my eyes again. When the poor student laughed and told me to pick someone to leave my last words to, I did not hesitate to call my sister. Their fates were sealed, with another chance at life, I would make sure to make them pay, and show them who the real heir was.