I was the fake daughter of a wealthy family. I had taken the real son’s place. On the day the real son came home, he coldly demanded my parents throw me out. But the moment he saw me, he dropped to his knees. He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face, wailing like a teakettle. “Baby, I’ve finally found you!” My entire family exchanged baffled glances. My body went rigid. This real son… why did he look exactly like the ex-boyfriend I’d dumped? 1. I was in the middle of purchasing a $600,000 diamond brooch, planning to show it off to my parents, when my grandfather called to tell me I wasn’t their biological child. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. My brain shut down. “So… the real son is already at the house?” Grandpa sighed, his voice laced with pity. “I’ve met the boy. He’s a cunning, manipulative little snake. With your simple mind, you won’t be able to win against him.” Leave it to Grandpa to be so brutally honest. I hung up and floored it, racing home. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, opened the door, her expression hesitant as she tried to block my way. “Miss, why are you back so early?” I could hear the cheerful chatter from the living room, punctuated by my mother’s delighted laughter. A cold knot formed in my stomach. As a family of old money and political influence, bloodlines were everything. For the past twenty years, as the family’s only daughter, I’d been groomed to be the heir. They had even arranged a marriage for me to further solidify our family’s standing. But now… Ding! A text message popped up on my phone. [Sloane, let’s meet tomorrow. We need to talk about calling off the engagement.] It was from my fiancé, Bryan Croft, a man I barely ever spoke to. I sighed and typed back a quick “Okay.” I hadn’t even stepped through the door, and the engagement was already being called off. Just as I was about to go inside, I heard the real son’s voice. 2. “Blood is thicker than water, after all,” he said, his voice low and steady, with an undercurrent of cold indifference that was somehow familiar. “It’s only right that she returns to her biological parents. Don’t you agree, Mom, Dad?” My parents hesitated. “But Sloane… she’s been with us for over twenty years…” The real son spoke again. “You’ll get used to it. She has to leave sooner or later, doesn’t she? Or would you rather keep her in the dark and have her resent you in the end?” Grandpa was right. He was a silver-tongued devil, cutting them down with soft words. In just a few sentences, he had completely dismantled my parents’ defenses. “As for her room,” he continued, “we could turn it into a storage room. Out of sight, out of mind.” That was it. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I pushed past the housekeeper and stormed in, my jaw clenched. “Mom, Dad. Do we have a guest?” They saw me and instinctively avoided my gaze, guilt written all over their faces. Finally, my mother steeled herself and took my hand. “Sloane, darling… there’s something we have to tell you. You’re not our biological daughter.” My father quickly pulled the real son to his feet. “This is your brother, Rhys. Why don’t you two get to know each other?” Rhys? My eyelid twitched. A terrible premonition washed over me. The young man slowly turned around, revealing a face so handsome it was etched into my memory forever. I froze, feeling as if I’d been struck by lightning. Wasn’t this the billionaire ex-boyfriend from my study abroad program? The one who had desperately wanted to marry me, the one I had mercilessly dumped? The moment he saw me, Rhys’s aggressive demeanor vanished. His eyes, at first filled with surprise, now shone with an ecstatic joy. They seemed to be glowing with an almost predatory green light. 3. My relationship with Rhys had started with a simple case of lust at first sight. I was on a research program abroad. He was a rising star in the city’s business world, known for his complete disinterest in women. To get his attention, I got a job at his company as his personal assistant. That’s when I realized it wasn't that Rhys wasn’t interested in women. He was a cold, robotic workaholic with no life outside the office. I tried everything. I wore my sexiest, tightest skirts, used every trick in the book, but his eyes remained glued to his complex financial reports. Finally, one night as I was driving him home, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Boss,” I asked, “don’t you ever want a life outside of work? A nightlife?” Rhys finally deigned to look at me. “For example?” My heart leaped. “Street racing! There’s a race on the west side of the city. Want to go?” Before the “no” could even leave his lips, I slammed my foot on the gas and we were flying. At the track, cars zipped past, a blur of color and sound. Everyone was high on the adrenaline. I stepped out of the car in my pink mini-skirt and impossibly high heels and met Rhys’s gaze. “So, boss? What do you think?” He got out of the car with his usual reserve and draped his jacket over my shoulders. “Not bad.” His words were cool, but his eyes were blazing. The rest happened naturally. We spent our weekends at the races, kissing in fields of roses. Everything was perfect. Until he got down on one knee with a ring and a contract transferring his entire company to my name. That’s when I realized I’d played my hand too well. This ridiculously handsome man was a hopeless romantic. It was just a bit of fun, why did he have to get so serious? Panicked, I told him I was “bored of him,” bought a plane ticket, and flew back home that very night. Back in the present, I stared at Rhys, a storm of complicated emotions swirling inside me. If I had known he was my parents’ biological son, I would have never, ever messed with him. 4. Rhys’s gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering. My lip twitched, and I took an involuntary step back. Honestly, I’d rather deal with a stranger than my ex-boyfriend. I decided to play the part of the understanding, mature adult. “Mom, Dad, my brother is right,” I said. “I should probably move out for a while. It’ll give you all a chance to bond.” My mother and Rhys spoke at the same time. “No!” Rhys’s voice was urgent as he rushed forward and grabbed my hand. “Baby, hotels are so dirty these days, and it’s not safe out there. You have so many allergies! What would I do if something happened to you?” He rattled on, leaving my parents completely bewildered. I shot him a furious glare, and he finally calmed down. He cleared his throat with a practiced composure and gestured for my mother to speak. She opened her mouth, only to find that Rhys had already said everything she wanted to say. After a long pause, she managed, “Yes! It’s much more comfortable at home.” I couldn't resist a sarcastic jab. “Oh, really? I can’t exactly sleep in the storage room, can I?” Rhys’s eyes widened. He looked utterly devastated, as if he might shatter into a million pieces. “Baby, that’s not what I meant, I…” He quickly changed his tune. “I’m the one who wants to sleep in the storage room! It’s small and cozy, and it makes me feel safe. I love it.” My parents were speechless. Was he delirious? As the awkward silence stretched on, Mrs. Gable, ever the pragmatist, grabbed Rhys’s luggage and started up the stairs. “I’ll go get the storage room ready for the young master right now!” I sighed and called after her. “Mrs. Gable, just prepare the third bedroom upstairs.” It was the sunniest, most spacious room in the house. The one Rhys would have always preferred. 5. Sure enough, the moment Rhys heard it was my suggestion, his face lit up. He snatched his bags from Mrs. Gable and practically skipped up the stairs. My parents both let out a sigh of relief. They sat me down on the sofa. My mother explained that she and my biological mother had given birth on the same day and had been placed in the same recovery room. A nurse had mixed up the babies. She also mentioned that my biological parents were not well-off. “Sloane,” she said, “Rhys has had a difficult life. He’s seen very little of the world. Please, be patient with him.” I was stunned. Wait, who was poor? His net worth overseas was in the billions! Then it hit me. Rhys, with his perpetual poker face, was a master manipulator in the world of high finance. He knew how to play people, how to say the right things to get what he wanted. I used to call him the “ice prince snake” behind his back. He was playing the part of the poor, long-lost son to win my parents’ sympathy and get rid of the fake daughter as quickly as possible. He just never imagined that I was that fake daughter. 6. That night, I lay in bed, Rhys’s face haunting my thoughts. Suddenly, my door creaked open. Rhys tiptoed in, holding a washboard, and knelt on it in front of me with a thud. My eye twitched. I got up to pull him to his feet. “What are you doing?” The once cool and composed man was now sobbing like a child. “Baby, I was wrong. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t want the inheritance. I’d do anything for you!” I sighed in exasperation. A year had passed, and he was still the same dramatic mess. I covered his mouth to muffle the sound. “Are you really my parents’ son?” He took the opportunity to clasp my hand. “Yes.” But when I asked about my biological parents, his eyes darted away. All he would say was, “Baby, your parents are street vendors, but they’re not as simple as they seem.” He refused to elaborate further. Annoyed, I pushed him out of the room. A man and a woman alone in a bedroom late at night? It was improper. Rhys left reluctantly, looking back every few steps. He was gone, but I couldn’t sleep a wink. 7. The next day, I drove to the restaurant where I was supposed to meet Bryan. The first thing out of his mouth was that he wanted to cancel the engagement. I agreed without hesitation. It was just a business arrangement; there were no feelings involved. My easy agreement seemed to wound his pride. He looked at me with pity. “Sloane, there’s no need to be heartbroken. Given my status, you’re simply not in my league anymore.” I didn’t have the energy to argue. I stood up to leave. “However,” Bryan added, “my mother said she wouldn’t mind if you were my mistress.” What the—! I stumbled, banging my knee on the table. “Your mother… your mother… she’s quite… open-minded, isn’t she?” Bryan ran a hand through his hair, a greasy, self-satisfied smirk on his face. Before he could continue, a glass of water was thrown in his face. Rhys stood beside me, his face a mask of cold fury. “Get lost,” he snarled. Then, he turned to me, his expression softening as he gently rubbed my knee, murmuring “baby, baby” under his breath. Bryan completely lost it. “Sloane, you cheating bitch! You’re engaged to me, and you have a lover on the side! Just you wait, I’ll tell your parents! I heard the real son wants you out of the house anyway!” Rhys’s eyes widened. He grabbed the pitcher of water from the table and dumped the entire contents on Bryan’s head. “You’re talking nonsense!” he roared. He then looked at me, his eyes wide with panic. “I’m not! I don’t! He’s lying!” Bryan’s face was green with rage. He pointed a trembling finger at us. “Lover… just you wait!” 8. “Baby, your fiancé is an idiot. You should choose me instead.” On the drive home, Rhys wouldn’t stop comparing himself to Bryan. I leaned back in my seat, my eyes closed, occasionally offering a noncommittal “mm-hmm.” My phone had been blowing up with dozens of messages. [Miss Prescott, what’s it like being a fake heiress?] [Wow, the fake heiress has a lover on the side? Classy.] It was obvious Bryan was spreading malicious rumors. The Prescott and Croft families moved in the same circles. A little bit of gossip could spread like wildfire. Exasperated, I turned off my phone and asked Rhys, “Your official welcoming ceremony is this Friday, right?” Rhys nodded, winking at me. “I’m planning a surprise for you at the party, baby.” A surprise? Knowing him, it was more likely to be a disaster. My parents were taking Rhys’s welcoming ceremony very seriously. They had invited all the big names from the city’s elite, determined to pave the way for his success. At the party, I was dressed in a beautiful evening gown, trying to be inconspicuous as I ate my cake. Now that my status as the “fake” daughter was known, people were politely avoiding me. Rhys, however, stuck by my side, dutifully fetching me food. Bryan walked over, a sneer on his face when he saw us together. “Sloane, it’s the Prescott heir’s welcoming party. Aren’t you ashamed to bring your lover here?” His voice was loud, drawing the attention of the surrounding guests. Rhys calmly wiped a bit of cake from the corner of my mouth. “He’s not my lover. He’s my perfectly legitimate husband.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. Bryan’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You’re engaged to me, and you’re cheating on me in public! Just you wait! When the real Prescott heir comes out, I’ll have him throw both of you out!” Rhys just gave him a polite nod, then muttered “idiot” under his breath. Suddenly, there was a stir in the crowd. My parents were making their way towards us. “Rhys, Sloane, come over here!” We walked over to them. The onlookers were starting to look confused. My father beamed, gesturing to Rhys. “This is my son, Rhys Prescott! And this is my daughter, Sloane Prescott!” The crowd was stunned. Bryan looked like he was about to have a stroke. He pointed at us, his face a mask of disbelief. After his announcement, my father handed the microphone to Rhys. Rhys introduced himself with his usual cool demeanor, then his expression softened. “In front of everyone here, I’d like to announce a decision I’ve made. I am giving up my position as the heir to the Prescott family.” The hall fell silent. The only son was renouncing his claim? Who would inherit the family fortune now? All eyes turned to me. My parents were stunned. I was stunned. I tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “Are you crazy? The Prescott name is crucial for your business expansion here.” Rhys just shrugged. “I was only planning to expand my business here to find you anyway.” I was speechless. My parents, ever the optimists, were already tearing up, gushing about how strong the bond between us siblings was. The crowd, however, just thought we were flirting. My father’s expression was complicated, but he quickly accepted the situation. He clapped Rhys on the shoulder and turned to me. “From now on, the future of the Prescott family is in your hands, Sloane!” I cursed Rhys a thousand times in my head. I had finally managed to unload all that responsibility onto him so I could be free, and now it was all back on my plate. And in the crowd, my ex-fiancé, Bryan, had lost all his arrogance. He was looking at me with a new, calculating glint in his eyes.
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