I'm the Real Son, and I Hit Back

When I'm brought back to the Gould family, Matthew Gould, the adopted son who's taken my place all these years, doesn't even bother putting on an act. The first thing he does is punch me square in the face. "So what if you're the real son? Mom and Dad already told me all the family assets will be mine, and that you're not getting a dime!" I don't take it lying down. I hit him back even harder, then drag him straight to Mom and Dad, his face swollen almost beyond recognition. "Is what he said true?" I demand. Mom and Dad look panicked, putting on placating smiles as they scramble to explain. "Of course not! You're both our sons. We'd never treat either of you differently." I raise an eyebrow, but I don't bother calling them out on their so-called "equal treatment". I give Matthew two more hard kicks and walk away. The next morning, just as I'm getting ready for school, Matthew shoves me out of nowhere, sending me tumbling down the stairs from the second floor. I hit the ground hard, my head covered in blood. After getting patched up at the hospital, I refuse to stay, no matter how much my parents and the doctor insist. Instead, I call the police and lead the officers straight to the school's broadcast studio. "Matthew Gould, you're suspected of attempted murder. Report to the broadcast studio immediately to assist with the investigation. "I repeat…" Chapter 1 I pressed a hand to my bleeding forehead and stared at the ER doctor standing beside my bed. "Matthew Gould deliberately shoved me down the stairs from the second floor. That's attempted murder," I said coldly. The nurse gasped. The doctor frowned deeply and immediately reached for his phone. "Don't worry, kid. If this was an intentional assault, hospital policy requires us to report it to the police." Before he could make the call, the door burst open. My mom, Roslyn Gould, and my dad, Benson Sutton, rushed in, both out of breath. Roslyn quickly grabbed the doctor's hand, her usually immaculate bun coming loose. "It's a misunderstanding! Doctor, this is all a misunderstanding!" she blurted out. "They're just kids. They had a little disagreement, and he lost his footing. There's no need to involve the police." Benson quickly forced a polished, easygoing smile and grabbed the doctor's lab coat. "That's right, Doctor. They're brothers. They bicker from time to time. How could it possibly be as serious as murder?" He lowered his voice and added, "We'd rather not air our family's dirty laundry in public. There's no need to trouble the police." I stared coldly at my so-called biological parents. That morning, just as I was getting ready for school, their adopted son, Matthew Gould, had come up behind me without warning and kicked me hard. That sent me tumbling down the stairs from the second floor. Now I was lying in a hospital bed with my head covered in blood, and all they cared about was shutting me up and sweeping the whole thing under the rug. Benson turned to me. As he looked at my bloodied face, there wasn't a trace of concern in his eyes—only worry over Matthew's reputation. He strode to my bed and scolded me in a low voice. "Aaron, why are you being so unreasonable? Matthew just has a hot temper, but he definitely didn't do it on purpose. You've only just come home. Do you really want to tear this family apart and send your own brother to prison?" Roslyn drew herself up with the full authority of the head of the family, her tone stern. "Enough! This ends here. You were hurt, and I'll make it up to you, but calling the police is out of the question! Don't you care about the Gould family's reputation at all? Matthew still has to make his way in our circles. If he ends up with a criminal record, it'll ruin his life." "If his life gets ruined, what about mine?" I shot back coldly, pointing at the gash on my forehead that cut down to the bone. "If those stairs had been any higher today, or if I'd landed headfirst, you'd be standing in the morgue lecturing my corpse about the Gould family's reputation." Chapter 2 My sharp retort left Roslyn at a loss for words, her expression turning livid. "You're still breathing, aren't you? An injury like that will heal in a few days. Why do you have to be so vicious and ruin your own brother's life?" she snapped. As I watched my parents gang up on me, I almost laughed. Their own flesh and blood was lying in a hospital bed with his head still bleeding, yet all they cared about was their adopted son's reputation and the family's image. Whatever hope I'd had left for our so-called family bond died right then and there. I'd never been the type to take a hit lying down. I believed in an eye for an eye. If they were determined to protect Matthew, then I'd deal with him myself. I lowered my gaze, hiding the coldness in my eyes, and forced a weak, obedient smile. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I must've been so out of it after hitting my head that I had no idea what was going on." Then I turned to the doctor and deliberately softened my voice. "Doctor, forget about it. I lost my footing and fell. There's no need to call the police. Thank you." The doctor frowned as if he wanted to say something more, but when he saw that my parents weren't going to budge, he just sighed, put away his phone, and turned to write me a prescription. Roslyn and Benson both breathed a sigh of relief, a hint of satisfaction finally showing on their faces. Benson stepped forward to pat me on the shoulder, but I leaned away before he could touch me. Unfazed, he said flatly, "I'm glad you've come to your senses. We're family. We shouldn't hold grudges against each other. Stay here and get some rest. I'll have Harris make you some soup and bring it over later." "Stay here and rest?" I let out a quiet laugh, yanked the IV needle out of the back of my hand, threw off the blanket, and got out of bed. "Aaron!" Benson exclaimed. "The doctor said you have a mild concussion. You need to stay in the hospital!" "I'm not staying." I pulled on my bloodstained school blazer and looked at them. "School is more important." … Half an hour later, with blood seeping through the bandage on my forehead, I quietly pushed open the classroom door. Matthew sat surrounded by a group of classmates. He wore a tailored school uniform and an expensive limited-edition watch. His eyes were slightly red, and he looked like he'd been the one who was wronged. "Guys, don't say that about Aaron…" Matthew's soft voice carried clearly across the quiet classroom. "Mr. Carter took Aaron away all those years ago, and he grew up in the middle of nowhere without much of an education. He only hit me yesterday because he was upset. I understand why he did it. "Please don't shut him out. We just need to be more understanding." The classmates around him immediately erupted in outrage. "Matthew, you're way too nice! He's basically a servant's son who got lucky enough to be taken in by your family, and he actually had the nerve to lay a hand on you?" "Exactly! Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. The second he shows up, we're making him apologize to you in front of everyone!" A subtle, smug smile tugged at the corner of Matthew's lips. As I watched him hide behind that flawless mask, I slowly unclenched my fists. I'd changed my mind. Shoving him down the stairs would be way too easy on him. Violence could only cause physical pain. Stripping away his facade and shattering the dignity he took such pride in would be the most devastating revenge. Ignoring the hostile looks thrown my way from inside the classroom, I turned around and walked to the far end of the hallway. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. "Hello, my name is Aaron Gould. I'd like to report Matthew Gould for attempted murder." I hung up and headed straight for the dean of students' office. Yvonne Winslow, the dean, was notoriously strict and followed every rule to the letter. Chapter 3 When I pushed open the door to the dean of students' office, Ms. Winslow was frowning at a notice in her hand. "Ms. Winslow," I began, pointing to the blood still drying on my forehead. "Matthew Gould from Senior Class 1 pushed me down the stairs from the second floor this morning. That's attempted murder. I've already called the police, and they'll be here in ten minutes." Ms. Winslow's head jerked up, her heavy black-framed glasses nearly slipping down her nose. "Aaron, you can't just throw around accusations like that! You're talking about a serious crime!" "Whether it's true or not, we'll find out when the police get here," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. "You've always been fair and principled. If something this serious happens at our school and the victim's family sweeps it under the rug, what does that do to the school's reputation? I just need your help with one thing." Ms. Winslow stared at me in silence for a long moment before finally gritting her teeth and asking, "What do you want to do?" … Ten minutes later, Sierra Chase, an officer from the local precinct, strode into the academic building with two other officers behind her. Dressed in full uniform, she swept her hawk-like gaze down the hallway before it landed on the wound on my forehead. She frowned and asked, "You made the call? Who's suspected of attempted murder?" "I did," I replied, then turned to Ms. Winslow. "Ms. Winslow, if you'd lead the way." Under Ms. Winslow's conflicted gaze and Sierra's watchful eye, we walked down the hall and pushed open the door to the school's broadcast studio. I stepped up to the console, expertly switched on the equipment, and cranked the microphone volume all the way up. "Aaron, are you sure about this? There's no turning back once you do it." Ms. Winslow put her hand on the console, checking one last time. "I just want him to know exactly what brought him down." I brushed her hand aside, hovered my finger over the schoolwide broadcast button for a beat, then pressed it down hard. A sharp burst of static blared through every speaker across campus. I leaned toward the microphone, my voice calm and clear, drowning out the noise of the whole school. "Fake heir Matthew Gould of Senior Class 1, you're suspected of attempted murder for pushing me, the real heir, down the stairs from the second floor. I've already called the police, and they're now on campus. Report to the broadcast studio immediately to assist with the investigation. "I repeat…" My voice echoed over the PA system, plunging the entire school into dead silence. Just five minutes ago, Matthew had been brazenly smearing me as a servant's son. But now, three explosive phrases—"fake heir", "real heir", and "attempted murder"—sent shockwaves through the campus. According to the students who later rushed over to watch the drama unfold, the moment the broadcast came over the speakers, Matthew's aggrieved expression twisted. The classmates gathered around comforting him all jumped back several feet, as if they'd been electrocuted. "The fake heir? Matthew is the servant's son?" "Didn't he just say Aaron was? Talk about projecting!" "The real bombshell is the attempted murder! No wonder Aaron had a bandage on his head today. My God, that's sick…" Disbelieving stares and scathing whispers tore through Matthew's fragile ego. The image of the perfect young gentleman he'd spent 18 years building fell apart in an instant. Driven into a frenzy, he shoved his desk aside and scrambled out of the classroom, desperate to reach the broadcast studio and stop me. But just as he reached the stairwell, he ran straight into the two officers who were on their way to get him. Chapter 4 "Matthew Gould? Someone reported you for assault and attempted murder. You're coming with us," one of the officers said. A few minutes later, Matthew was brought into the dean's office. His hair was a disheveled mess, his chest was heaving, and his already-reddened eyes were now bloodshot. The instant the door opened, his gaze locked onto me as I stood beside Ms. Winslow and Sierra, completely unharmed. "Aaron Gould! You bastard! How dare you set me up! I'm going to tear your mouth apart!" He let out a shrill scream of rage, completely losing control as he lunged at me, clawing wildly. I hunched my shoulders, tears streaming down my face as I ducked behind Sierra's tall frame. "Officer Chase, help me! That's exactly how he pushed me down the stairs this morning! He really is trying to kill me!" My voice trembled with just the right mix of fear and desperation. Sierra's gaze sharpened. Her instincts, honed over years on the front lines of police work, immediately kicked in. She was already furious that such a serious act of violence had taken place on school grounds, and faced with Matthew's unhinged attack, she didn't hesitate. Grabbing his wrist in a vise-like grip, she twisted his arm behind his back and pinned him against the desk. "Stay still! Attacking someone right in front of the police? You want another charge?" Sierra barked, her iron grip forcing a blood-curdling shriek out of him. The door to the office stood wide open, the hallway outside jammed with a crowd that had rushed over to watch the drama unfold. Dozens of eyes and phone cameras locked onto Matthew, pinned awkwardly against the desk with both arms twisted behind him. His face was contorted with rage, stripped of his usual refined elegance as a wealthy heir. The onlookers gasped, their hushed whispers giving way to blatant finger-pointing. "Let go of me! Do you have any idea who I am? My mother is Roslyn Gould! I'll get every one of you fired!" Matthew thrashed like a fish out of water, screaming whatever popped into his head and shedding every last shred of dignity. Sierra scoffed. With a stone-cold expression, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs, ready to cuff him and take him to the station. Just as the cold steel was about to snap onto his wrists, the crowd in the hallway was violently shoved aside. Frantic footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Roslyn burst into the office, out of breath. Benson was right on her heels, his face full of anxiety. At the sight of Matthew pinned helplessly against the desk in such a humiliating position, Roslyn's blood pressure spiked. Her face and neck flushed red as she slammed her hand against the doorframe, her furious roar thundering down the hallway. "Stop there! I'd like to see anyone try to arrest my son today!" Roslyn stormed into the office, shielding Matthew with her body. "Officer Chase, is it? I'm Roslyn Gould, chairwoman of the Gould Group. My lawyer is already on his way." She turned and fixed me with a harsh glare—devoid of any maternal warmth, carrying only a sharp warning. Benson rushed over in distress and wrapped his arms around Matthew, who was still pinned against the desk, sobbing so hard his body shook. "Don't be scared, Matthew. I'm right here." "Officer Chase, this is just a squabble between brothers. Boys push each other around sometimes. How could this possibly be as serious as attempted murder?" Roslyn said, her tone as cold as steel, completely ignoring the facts. Chapter 5 "We're not pursuing this any further," Roslyn snapped. "Close the case immediately!" Sierra's brow furrowed, and she turned to me. "What do you want to do?" I hunched my shoulders and lowered my head, letting a tear fall onto the floor right on cue. With Roslyn and Benson interfering, it would be hard to get Matthew convicted even if I pursued the case. Besides, I'd already achieved my goal of completely humiliating him in front of the whole school. Quitting while I was ahead was the smart move. I clutched the corner of my jacket and said in a trembling voice, "Officer Chase, thank you… But if Mom and Dad say so, I'll… I'll drop the case. I don't want to make things hard for my family." Sierra sighed in frustration, clearly disappointed. But with the victim backing down, all she could do was put away her handcuffs and leave with a cold expression. Matthew obviously couldn't show his face at school anymore, so my parents rushed him home. I walked back to the classroom with blood seeping through the bandage on my forehead. The second I stepped inside, the classroom fell silent, and then everyone swarmed around me. Some handed me tissues, while others brought me warm water. Their eyes were full of sympathy for me and contempt whenever Matthew was mentioned. Of course, I had no qualms about playing the fragile victim. … When I got back to the Gould residence after evening study hall, I heard smashing and crashing coming from the second floor before I even stepped inside. Matthew had locked himself in his room, his screeches piercing through the house. "I don't want to live anymore! Aaron made a total fool out of me in front of the entire school! Unless he kneels outside my door and bows to apologize, I'm going to kill myself right now!" Roslyn was pacing anxiously outside the door, while Benson wept until his eyes were swollen red. The moment they saw me come up to the second floor, they looked like they'd found a target for their anger. "Are you satisfied now? Do you really have to throw this family into chaos to be happy?" Roslyn roared, pointing a finger straight at my face. "Go apologize to Matthew right now! Beg him to forgive you!" Benson grabbed my arm in a death grip, his face twisted with venom. "Aaron, you've already taken Matthew's biological parents away from him. Why do you keep pushing him? Can't you be a little more generous? Just give in this once. Consider this me begging you!" I looked at this sickeningly biased pair of parents, and the last ripple of emotion inside me finally went still. Fine. Then we would settle this blood debt once and for all. I lowered my eyes, hiding the chill behind them, and made my voice sound obedient. "All right. I'll apologize." Roslyn and Benson visibly relaxed. I walked up to Matthew's door and softened my voice. "Matthew, I'm sorry. I was wrong today. Open the door. I'll get on my knees and apologize." The smashing inside the room stopped instantly. With a click, the door swung open. Tears covered Matthew's face, but his eyes gleamed with triumphant smugness and madness. He raised his chin high and pointed at the carpet in the hallway. "Kneel! Bow your head to the floor three times and say you're a—" Before he could finish, my hand shot out and seized him by the hair in a tight grip. Before Roslyn and Benson could even register what was happening, I dragged him toward the end of the hallway. "Aaron! What are you doing?!" Roslyn gasped in horror. "Let go of Matthew!" Benson screamed, lunging forward. But it was too late. I stood at the edge of the stairs with a cold smile tugging at my lips, then raised my foot and kicked him hard down the stairs. "There. Now that we're even, Mom and Dad can't play favorites, right?"