Chapter 4

After the dressing-down Chelsea gave him, Tyler stayed quiet for several days. He spent all his time sulking in the room he'd claimed, apparently tinkering with something.

I was glad for the peace and quiet, and went back to my usual reading and handling my emails. That calm lasted exactly three days.

On the fourth day, I went downstairs for a glass of water and found Tyler pacing back and forth near the second-floor landing. One moment he'd study how steep the stairs were, the next he'd tap the edge of a step with his toe, muttering to himself the whole time.

I leaned against the living room wall with my water and watched with real interest.

[Here it is! The classic stairs tumble!]

[I'll guess: the fake heir pushes the real one, gets caught by the parents, and gets disowned on the spot!]

[Wrong read up there. Clearly the real heir's about to stage a fall and pin it on the fake one!]

[Anyone want to bet when this fake heir takes his fall? It's finally happening! My heart's racing!]

So that was it. I pushed up my glasses, finally understanding. It seemed Chelsea's lecture hadn't sunk in at all.

Over the next two days, he spent hours near the stairs every day, rehearsing. Even from a distance, I could feel him wrestling with the question of whether landing headfirst looked more dramatic, or whether tumbling down looked more convincing.

Finally, the day he'd chosen arrived. That afternoon, my parents were both out, leaving just me, him, and a few of the staff in the whole mansion.

I was about to head downstairs from the study when I saw him camped out at the top of the stairs, wearing a look of grim resolve. He spotted me, and his eyes lit up as he snapped into position, one foot hovering in midair, body tilted slightly forward, in the pose of someone ready to fall the moment they were touched.

I kept walking toward him. The comments had already gone wild.

[Go on! Push him! You're not a real man if you don't!]

[This is it! Come on, I can't wait to watch him tumble!]

Tyler watched me get closer, his expression shifting from tense to expectant, even tinged with a kind of grim heroism.

Just as I got within three steps of him, my phone buzzed. I stopped and pulled it out. It was a message from Andy.

[Sir, there's a man by the name Sebastian Anders at the door asking for you. He says he's your... brother.]

Another one.

I gave a polite nod toward Tyler's rigid pose, then turned and walked past him toward the other side of the staircase.

Tyler froze solid, still holding his one-legged stance, watching in disbelief as I calmly turned and walked away.

By the time I reached the living room, Andy had already brought a young man inside. He wore a plain white shirt and jeans, and looked quiet and delicate. His gaze swept past me and locked straight onto Tyler, still frozen at the top of the stairs.

Tyler finally snapped out of it too, staring at this uninvited guest with a mix of wariness and confusion.

Sebastian walked straight up to Tyler and pulled a document out of the canvas bag slung over his shoulder, slapping it across Tyler's face. The paper met his skin with a sharp crack.

Tyler was stunned.

Sebastian's voice came out soft, but startlingly clear.

"You're a fraud. You should get lost."