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The Fake Heiress Insists I’m the Real One Novel Cover

The Fake Heiress Insists I’m the Real One

During a high-stakes family banquet, Risa finds herself at the center of a scandal when she is accused of stealing an engagement gift from Luna Lawson. As floating text comments reveal a plot to frame her as a jealous thief, Risa remains calm. Despite the disgust of her supposed fiancé, Brian Cook, and the scorn of the elite guests, Risa reveals a shocking truth. She isn't the long-lost heiress looking for a reunion; she is simply an employee who followed her boss for a free meal, turning the entire billionaire family's drama upside down.
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Chapter 1

At the family recognition banquet meant to introduce the real heiress, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes:

[So, the real heiress tried to get back at the fake one by stealing the engagement gift from her and the male lead and got caught red-handed.]

[Even if she’s technically the fiancée, he knows who he really loves. The fake heiress is the one he actually wants.]

[What fiancée? She’s just a thief. Send her back to whatever slum she crawled out of.]

Dressed in a princess gown and surrounded by admirers, the fake heiress, Luna Lawson, walked up to me:

“Risa, you’re finally back. Mom, Dad, and I have missed you so much. From now on, we’re a family.”

I quietly kept eating my fried chicken.

When Luna saw me ignore her, her eyes suddenly reddened. Then she reached into my worn backpack and pulled out a ladies’ wristwatch.

“Why did you steal the engagement gift Brian gave me? I know you’re dissatisfied with me, but that doesn’t mean you can become a thief!”

My fiancé, Brian Cook, looked at me with open disgust.

“Return it to Luna right now, then get out of this house.”

Under the scornful gazes of the guests, I pointed at the man on stage, my father, who was clinking glasses with Luna’s adoptive father, and asked in confusion.

“What exactly did I steal? I’m not here for some family reunion. I just came along with my boss to grab a free meal.”

The comments exploded:

[This is way too awkward. She’s not the real heiress; she’s just an employee?!]

Luna Lawson’s eyes widened in disbelief, her voice turning sharp.

“An employee? How could you possibly be an employee!”

She immediately turned to Brian Cook, her tears falling even harder.

“Brian, look at her, she’s still making excuses! She must be jealous of me, jealous of everything I have, so she’s pulling something like this just to get attention!”

Brian stepped forward, his tall figure looming over me, his tone filled with condescension and judgment.

“That’s enough. Stop the act. You really think anyone would believe such a cheap lie?”

I swallowed the last bite of chicken, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and felt a little baffled.

My father was the richest man in the country, but since I worked at his company and didn’t want to reveal my identity, I always referred to him as “my boss” in public.

This time, the Lawson family had invited my father, but he declined, saying he was too busy.

I was the one who wanted a change of pace, so I begged him to let me come in his place and enjoy a free meal.

I hadn’t expected the drama to land on my own head.

“Why would I be acting?”

“Mr. Lawson invited my boss to this banquet. He didn’t have time, so I came in his place.

“What’s wrong with that?”

I met their gaze calmly, without the slightest hint of avoidance.

But the live comments exploded.

[This excuse is ridiculous—standing in for her boss? What kind of employer sends an employee to a private family banquet?]

[She really won’t give up until she’s completely exposed. Does she think playing dumb will get her out of this?]

[I bet she’s trying to imply her boss is even more powerful than the Lawson family, that’s why she’s so confident. What a joke.]

Luna seemed to latch onto my words, suddenly speaking with feigned confusion.

“Stop pretending, sister. You look so much like my parents. How could you not be my sister?”

That question silenced the entire room instantly, all eyes turning toward me.

I was honestly speechless.

Good-looking people tend to resemble one another.

After all, both my father and mother were strikingly attractive.

Luna’s adoptive mother bore a slight resemblance to my mom, but their presence was worlds apart.

“Look, just look at everyone. They all think we look alike!”

Luna pointed at the whispering guests around us, her voice laced with a twisted kind of triumph.

“You are part of this family. You’re the sister who was brought back from the countryside!

“I know it’s hard for you to accept right now, but that doesn’t mean you can steal from me out of jealousy!”

Her delivery was almost flawless.

She used our resemblance to force a connection, painted me as the long-lost daughter who’d grown up in some backwater town, and then sealed it by casting me as a jealous thief.

Brian let out a cold scoff, the disgust in his eyes nearly spilling over.

“Stop wasting time on her, Luna.”

He pointed at me, speaking each word with emphasis.

“Return the watch, then get out. The Lawson family doesn’t tolerate thieves.”

The surrounding guests began whispering and pointing at me.

“So she’s the one they just brought back from the middle of nowhere. No wonder she has no class and can’t keep her hands to herself.”

“How embarrassing. How could the Lawson family have a daughter like this?”

“Look at what she’s wearing. Does that even add up to forty dollars? She must have seen Luna’s watch and gotten greedy.”

I glanced down at my uniform. It did look out of place here.

But it was from my father’s company—the quality was excellent.

I let out a quiet sigh and tried to explain one last time.

“First, the watch is mine.

“Second, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. The real heiress is probably still out there somewhere, waiting for you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a frail girl in a server’s uniform standing in the corner of the banquet hall, watching in fear.

Her features bore a strong resemblance to the matriarch of the Lawson family, Jasmine Ross, at least seventy or eighty percent.

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