Chapter 1Ten Years as the Fake Sister

Online, a burning question once popped up: "What do you do when you've played the fake sister to a top-tier billionaire for ten years, and the real heir finally comes home?"

The top-voted answer was a succinct two words: "Run. Fast."

My finger hovered over that reply on the screen for a long time before I finally hit ‘like’.

But I couldn’t run.

Because I wasn't just Robert Marston's fake sister; I was his dog, his blade, and the only tranquilizer in the rotten, opulent world of the Marstons that allowed him a moment of peaceful sleep.

Just moments ago, I’d personally destroyed a priceless hard drive with concentrated aqua regia. It was Robert’s final ticket to send a competitor straight to hell. And ten minutes after I’d dealt with that “trash,” the anonymous exposé hit my phone’s homepage:

The Real Marston Heiress Is Returning. Luella Vance's Days Are Numbered.

I sniffed the faint, acrid scent lingering on my fingertips and smiled. My days are numbered? Maybe.

…

I’d lived in the Marston mansion for ten years. The outside world whispered that Robert doted on his sister. But I knew it wasn't doting. It was... tending. Like livestock.

It was three in the morning, in the private lab on the top floor of Marston Industries’ corporate tower. The exhaust fan hummed, its drone barely masking the pungent chemical smell with a special air freshener system. I peeled off my goggles, then the ill-fitting hazmat suit, revealing a custom evening gown that felt completely out of place.

"Cleaned up?"

Robert sat on a leather sofa nearby, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His voice was hoarse, carrying a post-coital languor and a chilling edge.

Robert Marston. The ruthless head of the Marston dynasty in Sterling City, a man who’d clawed his way out of the slums, a madman, and for the past decade, my “brother.”

"Hydrofluoric acid and hydrogen peroxide. Not a trace left," I said, scrubbing my unblemished fingers under the faucet again and again. "The data on that hard drive? Not even a miracle could bring it back."

Robert gestured. "Come here."

I obeyed, walking over.

He pulled me into his lap, burying his head in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "Smells like chemicals," he grumbled, though his arms tightened around me. "Disgusting, Luella."

"That's the smell of your power, Robert," I corrected him, my face a blank mask.

Robert chuckled, the vibration in his chest sending a shiver up my spine. "These past ten years, without your hands, how many nights of sleep would I have lost?"

I said nothing. I’d been the most inconspicuous child in the orphanage. Robert took me home when I was ten. He’d just taken power then, besieged on all sides. He didn't need a sniveling sister; he needed a confidante, someone utterly clean, utterly loyal, a "shadow" who could handle his dirtiest work. I had a knack for chemistry. He got me the best tutors, built me the best lab. I didn't disappoint. I learned to concoct hallucinogens that could drive someone insane with a single breath, how to assemble powerful explosives from common household items, and how to make bodies and evidence disappear completely.

I was the Marston heiress, and Robert’s personal "cleaner." Until that post appeared.

On the drive back to the mansion, I sat in the passenger seat, my phone screen glowing. The anonymous forum post had exploded.

Poster: [INSIDER INFO! The real heiress has been found! Rumor has it she was kidnapped to the borderlands back then, has a crescent-shaped birthmark on her neck! Mr. Marston has already sent people to pick her up!]

1st Comment: [Is Luella Vance screwed? Squatting for so many years, Mr. Marston is a ruthless man, won't he flay her alive when he finds out the truth?]

2nd Comment: [Heard Luella was from an orphanage too, tsk tsk, time for the country bumpkin’s Cinderella dream to end.]

...

188th Comment: [Bet you a bag of chips Luella gets tossed into the ocean for the fish.]

I switched off the screen and gazed out at the blurring city lights. "Robert," I said suddenly.

He was resting his eyes, but didn't open them. "Speak."

"I want to study abroad."

The air in the car instantly solidified. Old Robert, the driver in the front, visibly flinched, and the car swerved slightly. Robert slowly opened his eyes, his gaze, black as midnight, locking onto me. The warmth in them vanished, replaced by an arctic chill.

"What did you say? Say it again."

"I want to study abroad." I forced the words out, my nails digging into my palms. "My chemical research has hit a wall. There's a professor overseas..."

"Screech—!"

The Maybach slammed to a halt at the roadside. The privacy partition rose, leaving just him and me in the confined space. Robert’s fingers clamped around my chin, his grip so tight I thought my bones might shatter. He leaned close, his eyes as menacing as a territorial beast.

"Luella, who put that idea in your head? Hmm?"

"That forum post? You saw it?" My pupils contracted. He knew.

"You think the real one's back, and you need to clear out?" Robert scoffed, his thumb tracing my lower lip, his voice dangerously intimate. "You're my property. As long as I don't let go, no one can replace you. Study abroad? Don't even think about it. For your entire life, you'll stay in the Marston mansion, by my side. Nowhere else."

His kiss descended, a punishing bite laced with the acrid taste of stale cigarette smoke. I closed my eyes, a cold dread seeping into my heart. He was lying. If he truly didn't care about the real heir, why had he been frequently deploying private jets to the borderlands these past few days? Why was there a detailed investigation report titled Jenny in his study? He was soothing me. Or rather, he was keeping me stable. After all, I knew too many of the Marston family's secrets. Until that "real sister" fully took over, I, the "fake sister," couldn't be allowed to cause trouble.