Fake Heires Novels & Stories

I could see him doing the math, running the angles, the way he'd always been better at strategy than sentiment. James set down the menu. He looked at me properly for the first time. And I knew, in the way you know things about people you've been in rooms with before, that he recognized me. That he had recognized me from the moment he walked in and had been deciding, quietly, what to do about it. "What kind of help are you looking for?" Patrick asked. "I need—" I measured it carefully. "Evidence. Something that makes her look like she isn't who she's presenting herself to be. A photograph. A situation. Something that creates doubt."

The banquet did not end because of this episode. Instead, it became even livelier. However, I knew Sienna would never let this go. Soon enough, new pop-up messages appeared. [The Harlow parents are actually giving the family heirloom to the fake heiress!] [My God, they're not even pretending anymore. They favor the real heiress openly but secretly prioritize the fake heiress in everything?] [I feel so bad for her! She should just destroy the heirloom. After all, it'll become the key weapon the fake heiress uses to bring her down later.]

he murmured, voice thinning, "I have something to tell you. Something I should've told you years ago." My breath caught. My father hesitated—like he was afraid of breaking me. "I didn't want you to live with this burden," he said quietly. "But I'm running out of time, sweetheart." I squeezed his hand, tears burning my eyes. "It's okay. I'm here. Just talk to me." He nodded, struggling to sit up, and I helped him gently. "You think you're a fake heiress," he whispered. I froze. He continued, "You think you stepped into someone else's world… someone else's identity… to save me."

"I'm not a fake heir. You've got it wrong." Didn't matter. The live chat tore me apart. [This streamer is wild. We really got front-row seats to rich family drama. First time seeing a fake heir get exposed live.] [They all say "you got it wrong" at first. Give it a sec, he's gonna start begging.] [Yeah I've seen enough. He looks fine but he's def a fraud.] [Look at him. Dude's pathetic. Kinda deserved. Wait—the streamer's the real Lombardo heir? Aight my bad, respect.]

"So that's what happened! He sold himself to save the company? No wonder the real eldest son backed out. The fake heir pulled the ultimate pity play and stole his fiancée!" "I knew Ms. Moore would never willingly give up the Shane family. Turns out she got trapped by this manipulative little green tea man." "Now this is getting interesting. The real heir versus the scheming fake heir who clawed his way up. What a mess." The reporters' cameras swung wildly between Christine, Michael, and me, desperate not to miss a single micro-expression. Christine's face had gone beyond merely ugly. I tightened my grip on Haylee's hand and smiled brightly at her.

"You impostor! How dare you try to act like you're the real thing? Do you want me to kill you?" I was slapped so hard that I couldn't think straight. The bodyguard, Wayne Perry, was looking at me with such hatred and disgust that it was as if he believed I was the actual impostor. I opened my mouth with difficulty and said, "Didn't Fred tell you earlier? Candace is lying!" Wayne just chortled and replied, "Ms. Candace is the real heiress of the Ashford family. You're nothing but an impostor. But I see that you've already gotten too deep in your act!"

I have a bad habit. I always say I’ll do something, but whether I actually follow through is another story. When I was eight, my adoptive father stole an e-bike and told me to keep watch. I patted my chest confidently. “Don’t worry. If anyone comes, I’ll tell you!” Then I squatted by the curb and got distracted watching a trail of ants. Twenty minutes later, my adoptive father was hauled away in a police car, along with the stolen battery. Later, I was kidnapped. The trafficker told me to sit still and keep quiet. I nodded eagerly. “Okay, sir!” Then I rolled down the window and waved at everyone outside. “Hi! My uncle told me not to make any noise!” By the time we’d driven three bl

After my wife, Aislinn West, nearly died giving birth and we lost our first child, I suffered another injury that left me unable to have children. I sent the postoperative report to Aislinn, who still hadn't shown up, and a livestream suddenly popped up on my phone. [Becoming a father despite having azoospermia] The streamer kept his face off camera, but his voice was practically bursting with excitement. "Six years ago, I personally orchestrated a plan to have my girlfriend save the real heir, who was suffering from depression. "They got fake-married. After my girlfriend got pregnant, she pretended to suffer complications during childbirth and gave the baby boy to me to raise. My girlf

I called again and this time, they were staring at me like it wasn't their attention I needed. "They know you won't survive three days and this palace is run by us!" "W-what do you mean..." Drelia shoved her phone to my face, like she'd blind me and I stumbled back. My eyes stared at the news trending, the backlashes and the elders, their voices on national tvs Headlines scrolled on loop: "FAKE HEIRESS? ELDERS QUESTION VEYLARA’S BLOODLINE" "OMEGA CANNOT LEAD PACK - TRADITION VS TRASH"

“Why are you calling him Mr. Caleb? You should call him your precious son.” As he joked, he kept watching my face, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t say anything. But our classmates crowded around us, gasping and shouting. Phone cameras were already raised, their lenses flashing under the lights. “Oh my God, Caleb Moore, isn’t that your family’s housekeeper, Mrs. Zimmer?” “The real heir and the fake heir have been right next to us this whole time?” “Hurry, record this!” Countless looks of disgust landed on me. It was as if I really were the fake heir from some drama, the one who had stolen someone else’s place and used his parents’ love to get away with anything.