Crippled Heir: Robbed by My Own Blood

I traveled halfway across the world and returned to the familiar Quinton family. I noticed guests mingling in the banquet hall, raising their glasses and exchanging toasts. Donald Quinton, my brother, was on stage, putting a ring on my fiancée's finger.

I pushed past the crowd and stormed onto the stage the next second, snatching the microphone from the host. "I'm not dead yet, Isabella! You're using my identity to propose to my fiancée, Donald? I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to steal your own brother's fiancée!"

Those around immediately blew up with commotion as my voice echoed throughout the hall. They turned their gaze toward Donald, whose face was indistinguishable from my own.

Donald's soft expression instantly hardened as total panic washed over his face. He recovered quickly, though. His panic gave way to overwhelming anger and helplessness.

He pulled Isabella Smith, my fiancée, behind him and said in a deeply pained voice, "Donald! How did you escape from the rehabilitation center? Didn't the doctor say you were mentally unstable and absolutely couldn't handle any emotional stress?"

He turned to the shocked crowd and media below the stage, forcing a sorrowful look onto his face. "I'm truly sorry for causing such a scene in front of everyone. It's actually my twin brother, Donald Quinton.

"He was punished by the family before, and the experience affected his mental state. He keeps deluding himself into thinking he's me and that he's responsible for all my achievements."

He actually had the nerve to use his own name against me.

In that instant, the murmurs from the surrounding crowd buzzed like flies in my ears.

I ignored him completely and glared straight at Isabella. She was hiding behind Donald, her eyes the only part of her face visible as she looked back at me. I looked at those eyes, which had once met mine when she swore she'd be with me forever, now avoiding my gaze.

"Go ahead and tell them that I'm the real Bradley, Isabella! Do you see me? We chose this watch together in Snowerland, along with that suit! Have you forgotten? Go ahead and tell them, Isabella!"

I extended my hand, expecting her to rush to my side as she always had; all it would take was one word from her to expose every lie.

Isabella, however, just held on to Donald's arm tightly with both hands. She stared at me with the eyes I had once been so madly in love with, but now they held nothing but disappointment, pity, and annoyance.

"I know you've always been jealous of Bradley, but today is an important day for us. I'm begging you—please stop causing a scene here. Go back and get proper care. We'll definitely come visit you, Donald…"

I felt my heart sink. I never thought her promise of forever would be so short-lived, not even lasting three months.

Donald affectionately stroked Isabella's hair while they stared into each other's eyes, completely ignoring me.

Meanwhile, the way the guests looked at me shifted completely. Some pitied me, others looked down on me, and many stared at me as if I were insane.

Donald wrapped his arm around Isabella's shoulders, the corners of his mouth lifting in a subtle, smug smile. He looked at me with a triumphant, almost boastful expression.

I felt my heart go cold in an instant. They were such good actors that they should have won a trophy for best actor! I suddenly burst out laughing, and under everyone's shocked gaze, I grabbed my shirt collar and ripped it open. I exposed the hideous, jagged scars on my chest, sprawled across my torso.

"I barged into our rival's server room with my men to get our hands on the company's core data three months ago. One of their security guards cut me with a broken bottle, leaving this scar! It was an injury I got when our enemies ambushed me!

"Where are your scars, Donald? What is the first half of the key on page seven of the achievement record? Do you actually dare to say it out loud, Donald?"