The False Heir

I let my housekeeper’s son, Blake Livingston, stay at my house. Instead, he went to school and stole my identity, pretending to be me. One afternoon, our housekeeper, Fanny Livingston, brought food to school. When I reached for one of the containers, Blake said sarcastically, "Finn, this is the food my family’s housekeeper made for me. I may treat you like a brother, but that doesn’t mean you can just help yourself." Listening to our classmates whisper about me, I knew that in my previous life, I would have simply walked away. I wouldn’t even have bothered explaining myself. Unfortunately for him, I’d been reborn. Right in front of everyone, I dumped his lunch over his head. "You stay in my house for a few days, and suddenly you think you’re some rich kid? And your family has a housekeeper? Your mom barely makes enough working as one herself. You think she can afford to hire a housekeeper?" Chapter 1 The lunch bell shattered the silence of the classroom. In the crowded cafeteria, Blake Livingston was surrounded by a group of classmates. He wore the latest limited-edition sneakers, and the Patek Philippe on his wrist gleamed under the overhead lights. "Blake, what are we doing this weekend? That mountaintop race last time was insane!" "Blake, I heard your family just got another Maybach?" Blake soaked up the attention, a perfectly measured smile on his face. Every now and then, he'd make some modest remark, only to draw even more enthusiastic flattery. Meanwhile, I sat quietly in the corner, an insignificant shadow in his wake. As far as everyone at school knew, I was the pathetic charity case who could only afford to attend this elite private school because Blake supported me. "Mrs. Livingston's here!" Someone's shout caused a small stir in the cafeteria. Fanny Livingston, the plainly dressed housekeeper—and Blake's mother—made her way through the crowd carrying two lunch containers, a broad smile on her face. She ignored me in the corner and went straight to Blake. She opened an expensive insulated container, revealing four dishes and a bowl of soup. Steak, truffle mashed potatoes, and other delicacies filled the compartments, their rich aroma immediately drawing attention. "Blake, eat while it's hot. I made your favorite lobster bisque today." Her voice was full of affection, her concern for him obvious in every glance. Then she pushed a cheap plastic container toward me. Inside were nothing but limp vegetables and bean sprouts left over from the night before. Expressionless, I reached for the cold container. In my previous life, I'd silently endured treatment like this. All it had gotten me was increasingly vicious humiliation—and, in the end, the destruction of my entire family. Just before my fingers touched the container, Blake reached out and stopped my hand. He deliberately raised his voice, making sure everyone around us could hear. "Finn Stanton, this is the lunch my family's housekeeper made for me. I may treat you like a brother, but that doesn't mean you can just help yourself." The moment he finished speaking, muffled laughter broke out around us. "So he really is just a freeloader." "God, he's shameless. I actually thought he and Blake were really friends." "Just look at him. Does he seriously think he's on Blake's level?" Their contemptuous stares pricked at me from every direction. In my previous life, my face would already have been burning with humiliation. I would have turned and walked away, leaving Blake to bask in his victory. But this time was different. I'd been reborn. The instant Blake said those words, memories of my previous life came crashing back. The sickening weightlessness as I was shoved from the top of a building. The excruciating pain of my bones shattering. And Blake's twisted smile as I lay dying. I slowly raised my head. My gaze swept over Blake's smug face before settling on the elaborate meal in front of him. Under everyone's stunned gaze, I picked up the steaming bowl of lobster bisque. Blake froze for a moment. Apparently thinking I was about to steal his food, he gave me a mocking smile. "Finn, if you want some, just say so. There's no need to—" Chapter 2 He never got to finish. I tipped my wrist, dumping the scalding lobster bisque and everything in it straight over his head. "Ah!" Blake screamed. His expensive clothes were instantly soaked and stained, chunks of lobster and other ingredients clinging to his hair. He looked utterly pathetic. The entire cafeteria went dead silent. Everyone stared at us, stunned by what had just happened. I slammed the empty container down over Blake's head. My cold voice carried clearly through the silence. "You stay at my house for a few days, and suddenly you really think you're some rich kid?" I stepped closer and looked down at him. "Your family's housekeeper? Your mom is a housekeeper. You really think her salary is enough to hire one of her own?" "You've lost your mind! Finn, you ungrateful little scum!" Fanny's shriek broke the silence. She lunged at me, furious, reaching out to shove me. I simply watched her approach and sidestepped. She missed me. The momentum sent her stumbling several steps before she landed hard on the floor, getting her clothes smeared with the soup dripping off her son. "Finn, how could you do this to Blake? He's like a brother to you!" Sitting on the floor, Fanny pointed at me with a trembling finger. "I go through all this trouble to bring you boys lunch, and this is how you repay me?" "Brother?" I let out a cold laugh, my gaze sweeping over the phony concern written across her face. "Mrs. Livingston, I think you've forgotten who you work for. You're my family's housekeeper. My family pays your salary. Your son lives in my family's house. So why exactly is he eating better than I am?" I didn't raise my voice, but every word carried through the cafeteria. "I... I..." Fanny faltered, momentarily speechless. She'd never seen me like this before. I'd always been quiet and withdrawn, the type to put up with whatever was thrown at me. To her, I'd been nothing more than an antisocial rich kid who was easy to push around. What had ever given her the right to scream at me like this? I crouched beside her and leaned toward her ear, lowering my voice until only the three of us could hear. "Don't forget, every dollar your son spends on food, clothes, and everything else comes from my family." I paused. "When a dog gets fed, it should wag its tail. It doesn't turn around and bite the hand that feeds it." Fanny's face instantly drained of color. For the first time, genuine fear appeared in her eyes. A few classmates helped Blake to his feet. He wiped the soup from his face, his entire body trembling with rage. "Just you wait, Finn!" he snarled through clenched teeth. I couldn't even be bothered to look at him again. I turned and calmly walked out under the astonished stares of the entire cafeteria. Word of the incident spread through the school almost immediately. There were several versions of the story, but every one of them painted me as the same thing: a jealous, ungrateful jerk who'd turned on someone who treated him like a brother. Blake, meanwhile, became the perfect victim—generous, forgiving, and somehow gracious even after being humiliated. To save face and cement his claim that he was the heir to my family's fortune, Blake made a big announcement in front of our entire class when school let out on Friday. "My family's having a pool party tomorrow night. You're all invited!" He swept his gaze around the room, deliberately skipping over me as he enthusiastically invited everyone else. The class immediately erupted in cheers. "Finally! I've been dying to see Blake's mansion!" "I heard his pool is bigger than the one here at school!" As everyone showered him with admiration, Blake finally looked at me, a mixture of provocation and condescension in his eyes. Chapter 3 "Finn, you should come too. Don't let what happened at lunch get between us." Blake put on a magnanimous act, as though the humiliation in the cafeteria had never happened. He was certain I wouldn't dare show up. My grandfather, Charles Stanton, who'd always doted on me more than anyone, happened to be away at a resort for a few days, while my mother, Vivian Stanton, was abroad on business. With the real owners gone, Fanny had apparently decided she was the lady of the house. If I went to the party, I'd only be setting myself up for humiliation, forced to watch Blake play the rich heir in my own home. If I didn't go, it would only reinforce everyone's belief that I was petty and unreasonable. Watching his pathetic little performance, I almost laughed. He'd done the exact same thing in my previous life. With a single party, he'd humiliated me so thoroughly that I became the laughingstock of the entire school. But this time... I looked up and met his challenging stare, the faintest smile touching my lips. "Sure." I calmly accepted his invitation. "I'd like to see what you think you can get away with in my house." On Saturday, the Stanton estate was packed with people. By the pool, girls in bikinis and athletic jocks laughed and splashed around, while the smell of barbecue mingled with alcohol in the air. Dressed head to toe in designer casualwear, Blake moved effortlessly through the crowd with a drink in hand, every inch the host of the party. Fanny had traded her usual clothes for a tasteful suit. Wearing a proud smile, she directed the temporary staff she'd hired for the event, perfectly playing the role of the estate manager. "Blake, your house is insane!" "Seriously, this place is like a palace!" The envious looks and awed compliments from our classmates fed Blake's ego perfectly. I sat alone on the second-floor terrace, watching the ridiculous spectacle below with cold amusement. Then one of the girls, dressed to turn heads, spotted the enormous climate-controlled wine cellar in the living room and gasped. "Wait, Blake, is that Romanee-Conti? I've only ever seen it in magazines!" Everyone immediately turned to look. The collection belonged to my grandfather. Every bottle in it was worth a fortune. Blake's expression stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered. With dozens of people watching him, his need to show off won out. He waved a hand with exaggerated generosity. "You want to try it? Sure! Drinks are on me tonight!" The crowd erupted in cheers. Looking pleased with himself, Blake walked over to the wine cellar and reached for the most expensive bottle. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you." My cool voice drifted down from upstairs. Everyone looked up at me. I slowly descended the stairs. "That's Grandpa's private collection. No one touches it without his permission." Blake's face darkened immediately. He hated when I appeared in the middle of everyone fawning over him, like a ghost reminding him that none of this actually belonged to him. Determined to assert his authority, he scoffed. "My parents don't care what I do. What makes you think you get a say? I'm opening it." He grabbed the door and pulled. It didn't budge. He tried again. Then again, using more force each time, but the door remained firmly locked. "What the hell?" A flicker of panic crossed his face. I leaned casually against the banister. "Administrative passcode, fingerprint, and retinal scan. You didn't know?" The cheers around him gradually died away. A few people began looking at Blake differently. "You..." Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as the awkward silence stretched on. Finally, he looked to me for help, his tone noticeably softer. "Finn, you know the code, don't you? Come on. Help me out." Chapter 4 I smiled. "That's strange. Aren't you the heir to this family? How come you don't have access to your own wine cellar?" Blake's face turned crimson. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Just then, an authoritative voice came from the doorway. "What's going on in here?" The man who was technically my father, Richard Livingston, walked in with a dark expression. Fanny looked as though she'd just found her savior. She hurried over to complain, "Sir, look what Finn—" Dad cut her off impatiently. His gaze settled on me, tinged with reproach. "Finn, Blake just wants a bottle of wine. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?" "Dad, it belongs to Grandpa. He specifically said no one was allowed to touch it," I reminded him. "This is my house. I decide what happens here." Something cold flickered in Dad's eyes. He walked over to the wine cellar, pulled a black access card from his pocket, and swiped it over the sensor. Beep. "Authorization override." The lock released. Dad took out the bottle of Romanee-Conti and handed it to Blake as though he were presenting him with a trophy. "Here. Share it with your friends." "Thanks, Dad!" Blake immediately perked up, shooting me a triumphant look. Any doubts among our classmates vanished instantly, replaced by even more enthusiastic praise. "Your dad is awesome, Blake!" "Guess there's no question who's really his son!" Dad's blatant favoritism only made everyone more convinced that Blake was exactly who he claimed to be. And there I stood amid all the noise, as though I were the outsider who didn't belong. I stared at Dad's cold, heartless face, feeling nothing but ice inside. In my previous life, I'd never seen through the ambition hidden beneath his hypocritical facade. I'd always convinced myself that his favoritism toward Blake came from disappointment in me. It wasn't until he'd personally driven me to ruin that I discovered a shocking secret. Dad raised his glass, about to toast Blake. I quietly moved behind him. Once he'd finished his drink, I discreetly took the glass he'd just used. His saliva remained on the rim. It was the most crucial piece of my plan. This time, I wasn't going to give him another chance. Back in my room, I locked the door and made a call. "Mr. Bennett, it's Finn." A steady voice answered. "What can I do for you, Finn?" Patrick Bennett was my grandfather's personal bodyguard, a former Special Forces soldier whose loyalty belonged solely to Grandpa and my mother. "I'm going to send you a few things. I need you to investigate Blake and Fanny." I paused before adding, "Especially Blake's biological father. I want everything you can find." In my previous life, I'd begun to suspect there was more to their relationship shortly before I died, but I hadn't lived long enough to uncover the truth. Now that I'd been given another chance, details I'd overlooked before were coming back to me. The way Dad favored Blake had never made sense. No employer treated his housekeeper's son that way. It felt more like deliberate compensation—and as though Dad had some use for him. There had to be a deeper secret behind it. "Don't worry, Finn. I'll have answers for you within seven days." Monday morning dawned bright and clear. My phone rang. It was Grandpa. His energetic voice came through the phone. "Finn, I donated a library to your school in your name. They're calling it the Finn Stanton Library. The dedication ceremony is this afternoon. I won't be able to make it back in time, so I want you there representing me. Make me proud!" Warmth spread through my chest as I held the phone. The same thing had happened in my previous life. But back then, I'd been so consumed by the pain of being rejected by my father and my so-called brother that I'd barely known how to respond to Grandpa's love. Chapter 5 "Of course, Grandpa," I said softly. That afternoon, the plaza outside the school auditorium was packed. I stood straight and tall on the temporary stage, dressed in the custom-tailored suit Grandpa had sent over that morning. The principal personally adjusted my tie, beaming as he stepped up to the microphone. "Today, we're incredibly honored to celebrate the grand opening of the Finn Stanton Library! Please join me in thanking Mr. Charles Stanton for his generous support of our school, and welcome his grandson, one of our outstanding students, Finn Stanton, to officially unveil the building!" Thunderous applause erupted below the stage. Countless eyes fixed on me, filled with envy, jealousy, and curiosity. Before long, the murmurs in the crowd nearly drowned out the applause. "Wait. Didn't everyone say at the party this weekend that Blake was the real heir? His dad practically proved it himself." "Exactly. So why is the library named after Finn? The Finn Stanton Library? Which one of them is actually family?" "Don't tell me Finn's the real Stanton heir and Blake really is just the housekeeper's son." I spotted Blake in the crowd. His expression shifted wildly, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles stood out. I ignored him and calmly walked toward the plaque concealed beneath a red cloth, taking hold of the gold cord. This was my moment. Just as I was about to pull— "Wait!" A sharp shout cut through the excitement. Dad forced his way through the crowd, dragging Blake with him as he rushed onto the stage, breathing hard. The entire plaza fell silent. Without a word of explanation, Dad snatched the microphone from the principal's hand, his expression leaving no room for argument. "Teachers, students, thank you all for being here." He cleared his throat and swept his gaze across the crowd before finally settling on me. "My apologies. The wrong name was announced just now. It was a simple mix-up." Dead silence. He yanked Blake forward and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "As the current CEO of Stanton Group and the primary contributor behind this donation, I've decided that this library will officially be named the Blake Livingston Library!" The crowd erupted. The reversal happened so quickly that no one seemed to know what to make of it. Then the whispers exploded. "Holy shit! I knew it! Blake really is the heir!" "So Finn really is the housekeeper's son? I guess it doesn't matter how much his grandfather spoils him. He's still not actually part of the family." "That's hilarious. We were all clapping for him five seconds ago. That's embarrassing." Blake immediately straightened, a smug smile tugging uncontrollably at his lips as he looked at me. Dad turned his cold gaze on me, his eyes filled with disgust and contempt. In an instant, I'd become the biggest joke in the entire school. One second, I'd been standing at the top; the next, I'd been publicly torn down in front of everyone. Blake could barely contain his delight. He walked over and lowered his voice so only I could hear him. "See that, Finn? Everything you have belongs to me."