When my parents finally found me, I played dumb. Three parts innocent, seven parts naive—I looked exactly like the real missing heiress. That’s right. I was a counterfeit. Because I looked more like them than their actual biological daughter, they mistook me for her. In my past life, I told them the truth. In return, my limbs were severed, and I died a miserable, agonizing death in a foreign land. This time, I decided to play the fool. I became the true heiress of the Sterling corporate empire. 1 When the Sterling family pulled up to the orphanage in their luxury car, a crowd immediately gathered. They held a DNA report in their hands, pointed at a picture of me in an album, and told the director: "That's her. Our daughter, Harper." Shocked, the director immediately sent someone to my high school to fetch me. At that moment, I was huddled in an alleyway outside the school, clutching my textbooks to my chest while being kicked and punched. Seeing someone approach, the group of rainbow-haired punks scattered without a trace. I stood up, looked at Griffin—who had easily tracked me down just like he did in my past life—dusted off my jeans, and followed him back. When Mrs. Sterling saw my battered state, taking in the bloody scratches on my face, she burst into tears. "Harper, do you remember Mommy? It's all my fault. I didn't watch you closely enough and let you get lost when you were five." I looked at her with feigned confusion, purposefully letting the faint scar on my forehead show through my messy bangs. Seeing the scar, Mrs. Sterling grew so emotional she lunged forward and grabbed my hands. "Harper! Do you remember how you got that scar on your head?" I touched my forehead, pretending to search my memories. "I think... when I was really little, I was playing hide-and-seek with my brother... and I tripped on the stairs..." Then I clutched my head, acting as if the memory was causing me excruciating pain, making Mr. and Mrs. Sterling’s hearts ache. Mrs. Sterling pulled me into a tight embrace, gently patting my back. "Shh, sweet girl. Don't think about it anymore. Mommy knows—you are our daughter!" Just like that, I followed them home and became the heiress of the Sterling Group. 2 My real name was Joy. It was the name given to me by the orphanage. When I was five, my grandmother had clutched a few crumpled dollar bills and gone out to buy me a birthday cake. It rained on her way back. The dirt road was slick, and she slipped, falling into a deep, muddy ditch by the road. She never got back up. My grandmother died, and I became an orphan. I arrived at the gates of the Sunbeam Orphanage, pretending to be a lost child. That same day, the true Sterling heiress, Bliss, also arrived at the orphanage. Because we looked so remarkably alike and were the exact same age, we were constantly mistaken for twins. In our past life, the private investigator accidentally mixed up our toothbrushes. So, when Mrs. Sterling mistakenly identified me, I corrected the error, allowing them to find the real Bliss. Bliss had put on a show of sisterly affection, begging me to go with her to the Sterling estate and continue being her "sister." As a result, I even secretly returned the $100,000 "thank you" check Mrs. Sterling had given me back to Bliss. I thought she was grateful that I hadn't stolen her identity. I didn't realize it was merely the beginning of her pushing me into the abyss. First, she spilled hot tea on herself and framed me for it. Later, she pushed Mrs. Sterling down a flight of stairs, planted the blame on me since I was standing nearby, and successfully got me kicked out of the Sterling house. On the eve of my SATs, she tricked me into coming out under the guise of "talking things out," got me blackout drunk, and tossed me to a group of local street thugs. When I woke up, I wanted to die from the shame, but she held the video of my assault over my head, threatening to release it if I breathed a word. With the SATs the next morning, I had no choice but to swallow my trauma. On the day the test scores were released, I discovered I was pregnant. On my way to an underground clinic, I drank a bottle of water she had tampered with. I collapsed. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was her cold, mocking stare. She said, "If you want to blame someone, blame your own miserable fate!" When I woke up, I was locked inside a cage. In a dark, damp warehouse, dozens of rusting iron cages held dozens of women with swollen bellies. I instantly understood what nightmare awaited me. I refused to accept my fate. I tried to escape three times. The final time, they chopped off my hands and feet, leaving me to bleed out in agonizing pain. But the wheel of fate turned, and I was reborn! Since God gave me a second chance, I was going to seize it and return every ounce of humiliation she subjected me to! I woke up at age sixteen. I spent a year meticulously recreating a scar on my forehead identical to Bliss's. Since I looked more like a Sterling than she did, I would simply take her place and become the corporate heiress. 3 The day I stepped back into the Sterling mansion, I was treated like royalty. Mrs. Sterling immediately enrolled me in an elite prep school in Beverly Hills, donating an entire library wing to ensure the school took "special care" of me, especially regarding my grades. However, when my initial placement test scores came back, Mrs. Sterling realized she had severely underestimated me. In my past life, once Bliss was brought home, she cared about nothing but designer clothes, luxury shoes, and Birkin bags, causing her grades to plummet. I, on the other hand, fully utilized the elite tutors the Sterlings provided, eventually securing a spot in a top-tier Ivy League university. It was just a pity that in my past life, I didn't get to finish my education. Delighted by my perfect grades, Mrs. Sterling eagerly asked what else I wanted to learn. Since my posture was lacking, I hired a ballet instructor to correct it. I didn't know how to play an instrument, so I hired a master harpist. I also wanted to secure a foothold in the Sterling Group, so I frequently sought out Mr. Sterling to discuss business management and corporate strategy. I was naturally brilliant and progressed at lightning speed. The way Mr. and Mrs. Sterling looked at me grew increasingly full of pride and absolute adoration. A month later, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling invited the upper crust of Beverly Hills to my official welcome banquet. The crowd expected a rough, uncultured orphan. Instead, I descended the stairs in a stunning white fringed gown, mesmerizing the entire room. At the banquet, I spotted Emmett Vance standing next to my brother, Carter. He looked exceptionally dashing. Emmett was the sole heir of the Vance family, an old-money dynasty from New York. In my past life, the moment Bliss laid eyes on Emmett, she was entirely captivated and swore she would marry no one else. Mrs. Sterling had laughed, teasing her for thinking about marriage before she was even an adult. Heh. What you begged for and couldn't have in the last life, I will claim in this one. "Carter!" My voice was clear and bright. As expected, both men turned their heads to look at me simultaneously. 4 "Who is this? Is he a classmate of yours?" I asked curiously. Carter was about to shake his head when I saw Emmett subtly tap Carter's shoe with his toe. Carter immediately nodded. "Yeah! A college buddy, Emmett." I smiled sweetly and extended my hand. "Hi there! I'm Harper!" Emmett hesitated for a split second before shaking my hand. And just like that, Emmett and I were officially acquainted. A lie often requires a hundred more lies to cover it up. Since Emmett claimed to be Carter's classmate, he found himself flying to Beverly Hills constantly because I sought my brother out for "advice" almost every week. Carter was studying finance. Since Mr. Sterling was often too busy to mentor me, I naturally had to consult my big brother. "Emmett, look! I brought you your favorite cold-brew tea." In my past life, Bliss was utterly obsessed with marrying Emmett. She spent an exorbitant amount of time discovering his preferences, learning he exclusively drank a specific, custom-blended cold-brew tea. Rumor had it, it was the exact recipe his mother used to make for him when he was little. Sadly, his mother had passed away years ago. The day Bliss finally perfected the recipe, I had the misfortune of witnessing the entire process. I smiled and handed him the tea I had prepared myself. Emmett drank it happily, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me. "Harper's craftsmanship is the best. Man, when you get married one day, I won't be able to drink tea this good anymore!" Emmett teased me between sips. I didn't say anything; I just smiled. Carter, however, chimed in from the side: "What's the big deal? Just marry my sister, and you can drink it until you're old and gray, right into your grave—ow! What did you hit me for?!" Emmett flicked Carter hard on the forehead, his face turning serious. "Harper is still young. Don't joke around about her like that." Carter rubbed his head, muttering, "She's not that young, she's almost eighteen..." I kept my head down, realizing that Emmett's feelings for me hadn't quite reached the level of love yet. 5 With the Sterling family's backing and resources, I performed even better than in my past life and was accepted into Harvard's finance program. On move-in day in Massachusetts, Emmett was the one who picked me up. I peeked behind him, a little confused. "Where's my brother?" Emmett gritted his teeth. "He drank too much last night. He's still passed out!" Carter had a famously high alcohol tolerance. There was no way he got drunk that easily. My phone chimed. I opened it to find a "You got this!" meme sent by Carter. I instantly understood. My little maneuvers hadn't escaped my brother's notice; he was playing wingman. College life was vibrant and exciting—something I never got to experience in my past life. I continuously applied the knowledge I learned, gradually taking over a portion of the Sterling Group's East Coast branch operations. I balanced my studies and corporate work with ease. The only thing I couldn't completely manage was Emmett. Perhaps afraid of blowing his cover, he rarely visited me on campus. But whenever I was at the branch office handling business, I always seemed to catch sight of him. We saw each other almost once a week. A year passed like this. Just as I thought our relationship was naturally blossoming into romance, he brought a girl to my birthday party. He introduced her to me: "Penny, this is my little sister, Harper." I pressed my lips together, suppressing the sudden, sharp twist in my chest. "Emmett, who is she?" Emmett replied, "Penelope. We grew up together." "Oh, so you're childhood sweethearts..." I forced a smile, projecting what I thought was an aura of gentle, gracious elegance to welcome Penelope, completely missing the flicker of something strange in Emmett's eyes. 6 I started intentionally avoiding Emmett. But oddly enough, we ran into each other even more than before. He kept calling me his "little sister" like always, and even brought a few more so-called "childhood friends" to introduce to me. On the day of the first snow, I agreed to go to a concert with a senior who had been relentlessly pursuing me. After the concert, with my tacit permission, he affectionately reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Just as he leaned in to kiss me, he was violently shoved aside by Emmett, who had been following us. The romantic atmosphere shattered. Furious, the senior blurted out, "Are you crazy?!" But when he got a clear look at Emmett's face, he panicked. "V-Vance? What are you doing here?" Emmett's brow was heavily furrowed. He stared at the senior and spat out every word: "Get the hell out of here." The senior looked at me, looked at Emmett, seemed to suddenly realize something, turned around, and bolted. I glared at Emmett, visibly angry, demanding a reasonable explanation. Instead, he took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. I froze in place. He looked at me with a perfectly feigned expression of distress. "Oh no, the back of your hand accidentally touched my lips. What should we do? I guess I have no choice but to take responsibility for you!" 7 Two years later, Emmett and I were engaged. He had dropped his "college buddy" disguise the night of the first snow. I deployed award-winning acting skills—first acting shocked, then angry, and finally making him and my brother pay a hefty, metaphorical price before letting them off the hook. At our engagement party, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were surrounded by the Beverly Hills elite. "Mr. Sterling, you are truly blessed! Not only is your daughter incredibly brilliant, but she also landed the heir to the Vance family!" The Sterling family was always considered "third-tier" among the ultra-wealthy circle. After today, with the Vance family backing them, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling could walk completely unopposed in high society. Half a year ago, when I told them I was getting engaged to Emmett, Mrs. Sterling smiled so hard she gained a few new laugh lines. Mr. Sterling was even more direct—he immediately transferred 5% of the corporate shares to me and promised another 5% the day we officially tied the knot. I accepted with a smile, becoming a bona fide shareholder of the Sterling Group. The engagement of the sole heir of the New York Vance dynasty trended heavily online. The internet was flooded with photos of Emmett and me. And as the leading lady of this spectacle, I naturally caught the attention of someone lurking in the shadows. One day, an issue arose at corporate headquarters requiring all shareholders to be present. Halfway through the board meeting, we were interrupted by an employee bursting through the doors. The employee's hesitant gaze fell on me before they spoke: "Mr. Sterling, there's a girl causing a scene in the lobby. She claims she is your real daughter, and says if you don't come down, she's going to slit her wrists right there!" 8 The meeting was suspended, and a group of us headed down to the lobby. There stood a girl who looked 70% to 80% identical to me, holding a fruit knife to her wrist. She was screaming hysterically: "Bring your CEO down here right now! I am his real daughter! The one you have up there is a counterfeit!" Two security guards stood by, trying to talk her down, having already sent someone to notify the board. She pointed the blade at the guards and roared, "I told you to get him half an hour ago! Where is he?!" Someone from the crowd yelled, "If you keep this up, we're calling the cops!" Bliss laughed at that. "Call them! It'll be perfect to have the cops drag that fake imposter out of the building!" Her absolute certainty caused the whispering crowd to hesitate. "The CEO is here!" A sharp-eyed employee shouted, cutting through the gossip. Bliss obviously heard it too and looked our way. The moment she laid eyes on me, the hatred in her eyes exploded. Gripping the knife, she charged straight at me: "Joy, you bitch, go to hell!" Joy and Bliss—the names the orphanage had given us. The knife was sharp, glinting coldly. I stood frozen in place, acting as if I was paralyzed by fear. Seeing this, Mr. Sterling immediately yanked me behind him to protect me. Mid-charge, someone in the crowd stuck out a foot and tripped her. Bliss crashed to the floor, taking a long time to scramble back up. She looked up at Mr. Sterling—who was fiercely guarding me—her eyes brimming with tears: "Dad, it's me, Bliss! Don't you remember me?" Saying that, she swept her bangs aside, revealing the scar on her forehead. Mr. Sterling looked disgusted. "Don't think faking a scar makes you my daughter!" But standing right next to him, I clearly saw his hand tremble the moment he saw that mark. Of course it did. They were biological father and daughter, after all. Blood is a mysterious thing; Mr. Sterling was undoubtedly harboring suspicions now. I decided to go with the flow. I pointed to the media reporters who were already rushing over, attracted by the commotion. "Dad, let's take her home first. The press is here. Having a scene in front of corporate headquarters is a PR nightmare." 9 In the Sterling living room sat Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, myself, and Bliss. Carter had rushed back the moment he got the news. When he saw me and Bliss sitting there, he froze in his tracks. "Th-Mom, did you actually give birth to twins?" After arriving at the house, Bliss had stormed into my room, washed up, and changed into a set of my clothes before coming downstairs. Freshly cleaned up, sitting quietly next to me, we looked exactly like identical twins. Hearing Carter's words, the hostility in her eyes flared instantly: "Carter! Are you blind? I'm your real sister!" "What twins? She's a shameless, lying bitch!" "A low-life mutt with no identity who dared to steal my life and usurp my place as the Sterling heiress!" "Mom, Dad, throw this bitch out on the street!" The older Sterling generations were highly educated, refined people. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were over fifty, and no one had ever spoken such vulgarities in their presence. Mr. Sterling slammed his hand on the table, enraged. "Shut your mouth!" Bliss jumped, shrinking her neck back like a frightened quail. "Your mother only gave birth to one girl. There are no twins." Mr. Sterling sighed heavily and looked at me. "Harper, what do you think?" I put on a highly conflicted expression. "Since Bliss insists she is the real Harper, why don't we... just do another DNA test?" The moment I said that, Bliss clapped her hands in agreement. But Mr. Sterling sharply replied, "Absolutely not!"
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