I Got Them All

1 After eighteen years as a Watson, a boy showed up on our doorstep claiming to be the family's true heir. He threw himself in front of the car, his fists clenched, his face a mask of raw resentment. Every word he spat was an accusation: I was the imposter, the one who had stolen the life that should have been his. After the DNA tests came back, my own brother, Liam—who had never looked at me with anything but disdain—latched onto him instantly. The two of them became a tag team of torment, united in their mission to make my life a living hell. In my last life, their scheming worked perfectly. Framed and disgraced, I was cast out of the Watson family by the fury of my own father. Even when I went to live with my supposed birth family, the Bells, their eyes followed me with a cold disgust, as if my very presence was a stain. To make matters worse, Draco Bell—the "real" heir—sent thugs to torment me again and again. I couldn't take it anymore. I ended that miserable existence with a final, desperate leap from the roof of a skyscraper. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day, with Draco blocking the car. Seeing the undisguised hatred burning in his eyes, I paused, then spoke slowly and clearly. "Here's an idea. Why don't we all get a DNA test?" ... "What the hell do you mean?" Draco’s face flushed with fury, his voice thick with accusation. "Are you calling me a liar? Or are you just refusing to admit that I'm the one who belongs in this family!" Beside me, Liam was lounging in his seat, scrolling through his phone. He didn't even look up as he muttered, "What a drag. We come out for a drive and find out Ethan's an imposter." I just shrugged, turning my gaze to the man in the driver's seat. "Father, a DNA test for everyone is the cleanest way forward. It's better for all of us. After all, machines don't lie." My father was silent for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "Ethan's right. You and this... Draco, will both be tested when we get to the hospital." With his approval secured, I said nothing more. I just shifted closer to my mother, making room for Draco to get in the car. I knew the truth: Father was the one who really called the shots. No matter how shocked my mother was, no matter how much her heart might bleed for this sudden "long-lost son," she would always defer to him. Draco scrambled up from the pavement, clutching the hem of his shirt, and pulled the car door open. His clothes were faded from countless washes and smudged with dust, the look of someone who'd been fighting for survival his whole life. My mother’s eyes flickered over his disheveled appearance, and she instinctively frowned, inching closer to the window. At the hospital, when it was time for the blood draw, Draco tried to play the part of a pitiable victim to win our mother’s sympathy. But he didn't understand. The Watsons were a family of old money and immaculate reputation. My mother, raised in a world of privilege and refinement, had never encountered this kind of raw poverty up close. Before his identity was confirmed, all she felt was distaste, not pity. "Ethan Watson!" Draco hissed, glaring at me. Then he puffed out his chest, affecting an air of arrogance. "Just wait until those results come back. You'll see what I do to you then." I didn't respond, but my heart was hammering against my ribs. I was betting everything on a single, wild chance—that I was also a true Watson, and that the child swapped at birth by Draco’s mother wasn't me at all. In my past life, something had always felt wrong. After being sent to the Bells, I’d worked hard. I never complained about the rural squalor, even helping with farm chores and fixing their machinery. But nothing I did could change the way they looked at me. At first, I thought they resented me for being cast out of the Watson family, penniless and disgraced. But one night, the father, drunk and belligerent, screamed at me, "At least it was you who came back!" before his wife frantically clamped a hand over his mouth. That was when I knew something was terribly wrong. I tried to go back and investigate, but Draco had people who made sure I never left that backwater county. This time, even if I was wrong, I had to take the gamble. The hospital was one of Father's investments, so the results were fast-tracked. What should have taken days was ready in less than an hour. Draco practically vibrated with anticipation. "Doctor, what does it say?" The doctor, holding the report, looked directly at my father. "Mr. Watson, the results confirm that Draco Bell is, indeed, your and Mrs. Watson's biological son." Draco shot me a look of pure triumph before his expression melted into one of theatrical anguish as he turned to my mother. "Dad... Mom... I finally found you." Her cold facade softened. She reached out and patted his shoulder, her voice choked with emotion. "My dear boy. You've suffered so much." Liam shoved me aside, rushing to Draco's side. "So you're my real brother! I knew it! I felt a connection the moment I saw you. Not like with Ethan." My father's face remained a stony mask, but I could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. I stood my ground, my voice steady as I addressed the doctor. "And the other report?" Draco's head whipped around. "It's already been proven I'm a Watson. His report doesn't matter." He started to move from my mother’s side to intercept, but the doctor was faster, placing both reports into my father's hands. "This report," the doctor announced, "shows that Mr. Ethan Watson is also your and Mrs. Watson's biological son." "What? Impossible! You must have made a mistake!" Draco's face contorted into a snarl, his shriek echoing down the sterile hallway. My father scanned the papers, his brow furrowed. "What does this mean?" "Mr. Watson, the equipment you funded for this lab is state-of-the-art. There is no possibility of error," the doctor stated firmly. "Both young men are your sons." "Ethan Watson! Did you bribe the doctor?!" The pitiable act vanished completely. Draco lunged, his hands reaching for my collar. I feigned panic, looking to my father. "Father, I didn't... You know I wouldn't dare." My father’s face hardened. "Stop this spectacle. You are not in a street brawl." Chastened, Draco's grip loosened. I took the opportunity to stumble back a step, making it look as though I'd nearly fallen. "Ethan has always been a good boy," Father said, his voice a low warning. "He's always been at the top of his class. He wouldn't do something like this." I lowered my head, smoothing the wrinkles on my collar. I knew my father's obsession: the Watson family's reputation. He would never tolerate a public scene. Draco, still not giving up, muttered, "Mom only had two children. If I'm the real son, and Ethan is too... does that mean Liam isn't?" He had voiced the very thought simmering in my own mind. I seized the opening. "Perhaps we should test Liam as well." "Are you insane, Ethan?" Liam finally exploded, jumping to his feet. "Just because you got lucky and turned out to be a real son, you're going to point fingers at me? Draco is your age, not mine!" I met his furious gaze. "We're only a year apart." Liam scoffed. "Who would be stupid enough to swap a baby and get the age wrong?" But my father wasn't listening to his excuses. A businessman never ignores a potential risk. He looked at the doctor and commanded, "Draw his blood." Watching Liam, yelping and struggling as the doctor dragged him away for the test, I felt a dark, satisfying thrill. So, Liam, you finally get to see what it feels like. During the wait, Draco clung to our mother, playing the part of a sweet, docile son. I sat beside Father, maintaining my usual quiet composure. This time, Liam was the one pacing frantically, his agitated footsteps echoing down the hall and grating on everyone's nerves. Finally, the doctor opened the door. "What's the verdict?!" Liam shot forward, nearly snatching the report from the doctor's hand before remembering years of etiquette training and forcing himself to maintain a shred of dignity. "Mr. Watson," the doctor said, his gaze grave. "Mr. Liam Watson is not your and Mrs. Watson's biological son." The words hung in the air. All the color drained from Liam's face. He staggered, nearly collapsing on the spot. My mother turned sheet-white, grabbing the back of a chair to keep from fainting. I quickly moved to her side, rubbing her back to help her breathe. Father stared at the report, then turned a glacial gaze on the doctor. "No one outside of this room is to know what happened here today. Do you understand? If a word of this gets out, you won't have a job to come back to." The doctor, sweating profusely, nodded vigorously. "Yes, Mr. Watson. Of course." Back home, the silence was suffocating. Father dismissed the staff to their quarters, leaving the five of us sitting in the study, the air thick with an unbearable tension. It was Father who finally broke it. "Tomorrow, I'm holding a press conference. We'll release the official reports and state that we had twins, and one was stolen at birth. Draco will be officially registered as a Watson." It was the exact same plan as my last life. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but withered under Father's icy glare. Liam didn't dare protest. Even knowing he wasn't blood, Father would still acknowledge him to save face. He had no leverage to argue. "Ethan and Liam have done well in school, and their graduation parties have already been held. The Watson name cannot be tarnished. Remember this: you will present a united front in public. No infighting." We all nodded silently. As we were leaving, Father called me back. "Ethan, you're the older brother. Draco is new to this life and will need time to adjust. Look after him. Teach him the family rules." I nodded. "I understand, Father." "And Liam," he continued, his voice heavy. "He may not be your biological brother, but for years, we have groomed him to be the heir to Watson Corporation. The world knows him as such. You are to support him. Do you understand me?" I answered with deference, but my heart felt like a block of ice. Father had always favored Liam, anointing him the successor long ago. In my past life, when I was deemed the fake, he discarded me without a second thought. Now, knowing Liam is the imposter, he protects him without hesitation, all for the sake of reputation. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Don't disappoint my trust in you, Ethan." The press conference caused a predictable uproar. Father had somehow managed to have Liam's DNA report altered; the official announcement presented three reports showing that all three of us were his children. Any rumors that tried to surface were swiftly crushed. He would not tolerate anything that threatened the family or the corporation's prestige. Draco Bell officially became Draco Watson. Though Father had publicly accepted Liam, the fear and humiliation of the discovery curdled into resentment directed at me. Sometimes I'd pass his room late at night and hear him muttering, "This is all Ethan's fault. If he'd just accepted he was the fake, I'd still be the golden boy of the Watson family, not living in constant fear of being exposed." Draco wasn't any better. When I tried to teach him the etiquette of being a Watson, as Father had instructed, he refused to learn, instead just glaring at me with eyes full of hate. "We're both his real sons, so why was I the one who got taken? If I'd grown up here, I wouldn't need you to teach me any of this!" I never argued. I just made sure to leave the door open during these "lessons," so the passing servants could hear every word of his bitter complaints. Soon, the whispers about him among the staff started to grow. Fueled by their shared animosity toward me, Draco and Liam formed an alliance. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. To make me miserable, they were willing to stomach their mutual dislike and work together. Their first move came quickly. I was just heading downstairs for breakfast when Draco blocked the top of the grand staircase. "Brother," he began, dressed in an immaculate suit but wearing a wounded expression, "I know I'm slow, and I'll never be as good as you. Please don't be angry with me." I didn't want to get into it with him. I just nodded and tried to step around him. But before I could, he let out a piercing scream and threw himself down the stairs. By the time I processed what was happening, he was crumpled at the bottom, clutching his arm and crying out in pain. My parents rushed out at the sound of the commotion, only to see me standing calmly at the top of the stairs. "Ethan! How could you push Draco? He's your brother!" Liam immediately jumped in, playing his part, painting me as the vicious older brother who couldn't stand the competition. Father's brow furrowed. He was about to order my punishment when I spoke first. "Father, there are security cameras in the hallway." Liam froze. He'd forgotten. When he was a child, he'd nearly gotten lost playing hide-and-seek with the maids, and Father had installed cameras everywhere except the bedrooms. The color drained from Draco's face. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "It was my fault. I fell. It had nothing to do with my brother." Father played back the footage for everyone to see. It clearly showed that I hadn't touched Draco; he had thrown himself. "Be more careful next time," was all Father said. "Yes, Father," Draco mumbled, his head bowed in shame. After that, their schemes became more frequent and more vicious. One day they'd be slandering me to my parents, the next they'd orchestrate some petty humiliation. It was a constant barrage of childish nonsense, and frankly, I was getting tired of it. I didn't come back to this life to waste my time on their pathetic games. Finally, I reached my limit. Using the excuse of bringing him a bottle of wine, I walked into Draco's room and locked the door behind me. "What—what do you want?" He scrambled backward like a cornered animal, grabbing a pillow to use as a shield. "I'm going to scream!" I sighed, setting the wine on his nightstand and sitting on the edge of his bed. "Draco, I know you hate me. It's understandable. If I were the one who'd been taken, you wouldn't have had to suffer for all those years." A flicker of genuine pain crossed his face. He looked down, his voice raspy. "What are you trying to say?" I offered a soft smile and reached for his hand, my voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Have you ever stopped to think why the Bells would swap their child with a Watson? Wasn't it so their own flesh and blood could live a life of luxury?" "So it doesn't matter if it was you or me who was taken. All that mattered to them was that their child made it into the wealthy family." Draco looked up, his eyes full of suspicion. "Even if you're right, I can't forgive you." I squeezed his hand tighter. "You don't have to forgive me. I just don't want to see you get played for a fool. Did you know? Even though Liam isn't a real Watson, Father still plans to give him the entire Watson Corporation." Draco's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's impossible!" He almost shouted, then clamped a hand over his mouth. I pulled out my phone and played the audio I'd recorded. "This is what Father told me when he kept me back that day." As he listened, Draco's face grew darker and darker. "Father is a traditionalist," I continued, pressing my advantage. "He's obsessed with appearances. He's already announced Liam as the heir, and he won't go back on his word. I've been in this house for eighteen years; I know how he thinks. The biggest threat to you and me... is Liam." "Without that outsider in the way, the Watson fortune will fall to us. And whether it's you or me who gets it in the end, it's better than it going to him, right?" A cruel light entered Draco's eyes. He started muttering, "Yes... you're right. You and I are better than that bastard Liam." His voice grew manic, his expression wild. "I'm going to ruin him. I'm going to make sure he leaves this family in utter disgrace!" I've always believed the best way to destroy someone isn't to do it yourself, but to let them walk into their own abyss. Draco, however, was too crude for such subtleties. His plans were laughably naive. If I wasn't secretly paving the way for him, he'd never get what he wanted. It was a bitter irony that in my previous life, I was the one who fell for his childish traps. Seeing the raw ambition churning in his eyes, I added one more piece of advice. "A word of warning, though. Petty squabbles inside this house won't accomplish anything." I paused for effect. "Do you know how Father handles his business rivals?" Draco shook his head. "He destroys their reputations. He leaks their private scandals to the press, watches their stock plummet, and listens as the public tears them apart. And all the while, he sits back, pretending to be disappointed, earning the public's trust." I looked him straight in the eye. "It's a dirty tactic. But it works." A flicker of interest crossed his face, quickly followed by suspicion. "Are you planning to do that to me?" I shook my head, my expression turning sorrowful. "Father always favored Liam. Now that you're back, he'll favor you to make up for the eighteen years you lost. I've always been the one who mattered least." Seeing the smug satisfaction on his face, I delivered the final line. "Honestly, all I want is for you to leave me a small place in this world after you take over Watson Corp. I know I could never compete with Liam. And I can't compete with you, either." Draco smiled, a genuine, satisfied smile. "Don't worry, brother. Once I have Father's approval, I'll take care of you." Hearing his promise, I lowered my head to hide the cold, triumphant curve of my lips. Under the guise of "seeing the world," Draco convinced Liam to start taking him out. When they came to me, asking me to cover for them with Father, I feigned hesitation before finally agreeing. "Just don't get into any trouble. I'll handle Father." That was all it took to open Pandora's box. They started going out more and more. Draco would secretly report to me that he only asked Liam to take him to fancy restaurants; the clubs, the gaming cafes—that was all Liam's idea. Soon, Liam was going out even when Draco stayed home, always surrounded by a new crew of slick, sycophantic hangers-on—men I had secretly introduced him to. He even blew millions of Father's money on donations to a female live-streamer. I pretended to know nothing. Draco didn't stop him, occasionally even covering for him when he didn't come home at night. When my mother asked, Draco would just say, "Liam knows his limits, Mom. He won't do anything reckless. Don't worry." In less than three months, Liam's eyes grew dull and glazed. He'd packed on so much weight that even Father barely recognized him.

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