Maimed Me for a Fake Heir, Now They Beg

My hands were covered in black motor oil as I crouched in the auto repair shop. It was located at the corner of the street and was no bigger than 100 square feet.

The scar that stretched across the back of my hand would occasionally throb in pain because of nerve damage.

It had been three months since I had been released from prison. By now, I had already gotten used to the weight of the wrench in my hands and the scent of motor oil.

I was still lost in thought when I was suddenly yanked back to the present by an angry voice.

"Jamie Lachman, you bastard! So, you've been hiding out here all this time!"

The sharp and hateful voice shattered the silence in the auto repair shop.

I lifted my head just in time to see my ex-fiancee, Winona Green, storm in with the rest of the Lachman family.

My mother, Heather Solden, discarded her pride the moment she laid eyes on me, throwing herself on the floor that was covered with metal shavings. She didn't seem to care that she was wearing a silk dress that cost a small fortune at that moment, grabbing my leg and letting out a heartwrenching wail.

"I'm begging you, Jamie. Please, save Matthew! He's only 22. He's suffering from an aortic dissection. All the doctors in Highville say that you're the only surgeon who's capable of performing such a delicate surgery! He's your brother!"

I looked down at Heather, feeling nothing even when I noticed that her carefully-styled hair had been stained with black waste oil.

My brother?

In my previous life, I was the true heir of the Lachman family who had gone missing. When the Lachmans finally found me, I actually believed that I finally had a home to call my own.

Unfortunately, tragedy was all that awaited me.

The Lachmans had only tracked me down because the fake heir, Matthew Lachman, had been involved in a case of fatal medical malpractice. They needed a high-profile scapegoat to pin the blame on to save Matthew's reputation.

Standing next to Heather was my ex-fiancee, Winona. She still had a high-and-mighty attitude, treating herself as a queen who was better than everyone else.

Winona pulled out a yellowed and slightly tattered engagement contract from her Hermes bag. She dropped it on the counter that was covered in oil stains as if she were giving a few pennies to a beggar.

"I'll sweep your medical malpractice under the rug if you go to the hospital and save Matthew's life right now, Jamie. This engagement contract is still valid. I'll marry you immediately and restore your position as the heir of the Lachman family."

Pain throbbed through me as I processed the absolutely ridiculous situation I was in.

Before I was imprisoned, Winona had personally used a scalpel to sever the nerves in my right hand just to protect Matthew's reputation. She had then forced me to sign the confession letter.

My father, Terry Lachman, had coldly looked at my bloody hand and said, "The Lachman family doesn't need a useless son like you. Matthew is our pride and joy."

I closed my eyes. I could still feel the icy sensation that had enveloped my body and sank into my bones when death claimed me in my prison cell in my previous life.

I slowly lifted my right hand, showing them how my fingers were trembling violently. Just holding a simple wrench took all the strength that I had.

"Save him?" I asked, barking a self-deprecating laugh. "Mrs. Lachman, Ms. Green, have you already forgotten what you did to me?"

I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the scar that would ruin any surgeon's career. "You personally ruined this hand just to protect that imposter. What do you hope to achieve by forcing me into that operating room? Do you want me to save him? Or perhaps you want me to expedite his death."

Terry's temper exploded upon hearing my words. He slammed his hands on the counter, causing the small parts to scatter everywhere. An ear-piercing clanging rang through the air.

"Drop the act, Jamie! You're a Lachman, and yet you have such a despicable character! You want money, don't you? I'll give you as much as you want as long as you save Matthew. But you have to come with us now!"

Although I was their biological son, from their perspective, I couldn't even worth the dirt on the shoes of Matthew, the fake heir they had raised for the past 20 years.

They were determined to squeeze the last bit of usefulness out of me, even though my right hand was already ruined.