Exposing the Colleague Who Tried to Steal My Identity

James tugged at my dad’s suit jacket with a look of disdain.

“Come on, Emily, I’m not being unreasonable. If you’re going to hire actors, at least try harder. This guy’s wearing some no-name suit. It’s embarrassing!

“Even when you’re pretending to be rich, you can’t get it right. That’s about the extent of your taste.”

A few coworkers chimed in, circling me and my dad, mocking his simple outfit.

“Sir, you really came here dressed like this to pretend to be Mr. Anderson? Do you even know how wealthy Mr. Anderson is?”

“This is hilarious. He looks more like a salesman than a billionaire.”

As their laughter reached its peak, a young woman holding her phone gasped in shock.

“Wait! he actually looks like Mr. Anderson! There are pictures of him online!”

Thankfully, not everyone in this company was clueless.

The group crowded around, comparing the online photos to my dad, and realization began to dawn on them.

James’s legs started to tremble, and his face turned pale.

A heavy silence fell over the room, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Miss Anderson, we didn’t mean anything by it. Please, let it go and forgive us.”

As soon as one person caved, the rest quickly jumped in with their own apologies.

Meanwhile, Lily, realizing her lies had been exposed, stomped her feet in anger, fuming with frustration.

“Those pictures could be fake! They’re impostors! I’m the real heiress of Anderson Corporation!”

No matter how loudly she shouted, no one believed her anymore.

Just as I was preparing to handle the situation and deal with Lily properly, another commotion came from the door.

“I’m Jackson Anderson. Who dares to bully my daughter?”

The familiar voice made me glance at my dad, and we exchanged knowing looks. The answer was already clear.

Lily ran toward the man who entered, tears streaming down her face.

“Daddy, they’re all ganging up on me because you weren’t here!”

James also recognized the man and scrambled toward him, practically tripping over himself in his haste.

“Mr. Anderson, Mr. Anderson! Someone is impersonating you, and I was standing up for you! Now they’re turning on me!”

The middle-aged man waved him off dismissively, casually twirling the keys to a luxury car in his hand as he spoke.

“I’d like to see who’s bold enough to impersonate me, Jackson Anderson!”

He strutted toward us with an air of arrogance, but the moment his eyes met my dad’s, all of his confidence vanished.