Genuine Fraud

The first time I meet Solana Charvet's childhood friend, Tyson Hatch, he claims that he's the best fraud buster ever. At the dining table, he keeps lecturing me. "Men shouldn't overdress, you know. If not for the fact that Solana actually told me that you're her boyfriend, I'd definitely group you up with the gigolos together." Solana keeps agreeing with everything Tyson says. "You're far too flashy when it comes to your fashion sense. Just listen to Tyson and change your habits, yeah?" I can't be bothered to listen to a word Tyson says, so I come up with an excuse to use the toilet. But on the way back, I hear Tyson giving Solana his verdict as a fraud buster. "Solana, Charles' posture and the way he speaks are all clear indicators that he's a fake heir who has undergone training. He intends to get close to you for your money, you know! "That watch he's wearing? And the sports car that's worth over a million dollars? How is it possible for a doctor like him to afford all these things?" Fury burns in my gut. I can no longer tolerate Tyson's nonsense, so I dial my mom's number right away. Right, have I mentioned that my mom's the richest woman in the country? "Mom, give me five million dollars right now. I want to buy an agency that specializes in fraud busting and teach a certain someone a lesson!"

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."

My wife has an emotional breakdown after being violated. She insists I'm the one who orchestrated it, but both our parents know her true love is the actual culprit. Still, they don't object to her insane retaliation. They even have me locked up in a prison abroad. As I'm tormented, she sells my company to help her true love get away scot-free. Ultimately, he's set free, but I die without even having a final resting place. When a judge informs her to collect my body, she sneers and says, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Does he think he can get away with a fake corpse? I won't even bat an eye if his body is flushed down the drain! He's nothing but a disgusting criminal!" Later, she realizes that I've truly died. She's delighted, but her laughter soon turns to tears as she holds my corpse.

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.

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 had an arranged marriage, and my wife was the only daughter of her family. Because of PTSD, she couldn't be intimate with anyone. When she handed me the signed agreement, she also sent a gentle, obedient woman to my room. "Even though it's our wedding night, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with this." I stared at her in disbelief, wondering if this was some kind of test of my character. Just as I was about to launch into a speech about loyalty and marriage, I suddenly heard the thoughts of the psychologist standing beside her. [What does he have to complain about? That position should've been mine! If Kayla didn't need the Grant family's support, she never would've agreed to marry a loser like him! Luckily, Kayla loves me. She even used PTSD as an excuse to save herself for me. I just need to try harder and get her pregnant, then Benjamin Grant will become a complete laughingstock!] The words that had been on the tip of my tongue disappeared instantly. Without hesitation, I accepted Kayla's arrangement. There was nothing wrong with people in a business marriage living separate lives. I wasn't an idiot. Why would I pick a fight with Kayla over something like this? Living peacefully and minding my own business was the smartest choice. To show that I had no inappropriate intentions toward her, I even ordered maternity and baby supplies for her. "I heard you're pregnant. Coincidentally, the woman you sent to me is pregnant too." I was planning to ask her for some advice. Instead, her face darkened. She gritted her teeth and snapped, "I'm not pregnant! She's not your mistress either. She's the IVF coordinator I hired to get you up to speed!"