Chapter 1

After our driver's daughter moved in, Blake-my already resentful adoptive brother-grew to hate me even more.

She looked like him. That, in his mind, was proof enough: I was the impostor, and she was the real heiress.

Frankly, I couldn't be bothered to argue.

Then came my eighteenth birthday. Blake showed up with the driver's daughter to stake her claim.

He turned to our parents, expecting a standing ovation. “Mom, Dad, this is your real daughter, my real sister! Avery's the fake."

Then he threw a DNA report in my face. “You've stolen my sister's life for eighteen years. Get out of this house!"

Behind him, Sierra's eyes welled up with practiced tears. "I only want...my real family."

A collective gasp tore through the room. Mom and Dad stood frozen.

But as I stared at the report that confirmed they were siblings, a cold, sudden laugh rose in my chest.

"What if... you're the fake son?"

I'm Avery Maxwell, the heiress to the powerful Maxwell family.

Tonight was my eighteenth birthday. My parents had booked the grandest ballroom in the city and filled it with every important person they knew.

I stood at the center of it all, radiant in a custom gown, the undisputed star of the evening.

What I never expected was for my brother, Blake, to try to burn the whole party down.

"Avery is a fraud! She has no right to be here!"

Blake marched into the center of the room, dragging our driver's daughter, Sierra, behind him. He looked at me with pure contempt, as if I were something he'd scraped off his shoe.

Sierra shrank behind him, her eyes already glistening with unshed tears.

My parents stared, completely bewildered. My mother gestured subtly for him to stop. My father's voice was low and stern. “Blake, you're late to your sister's birthday, and now you make a spectacle? Explain yourself."

"Blake, sweetheart,” my mother tried, her voice pleading. “You and Avery quarrel, but tonight is her night. Please, have some respect."

Blake ignored them. He raised a finger and pointed straight at me, his voice hard.

"Avery is not a Maxwell. She was switched at birth. A fake. The real Maxwell daughter is Sierra!"

He pushed Sierra forward, presenting her to our parents like a winning trophy.

"Mom, Dad, this is your real daughter. My real sister. Look at her. She even looks like me. That's all the proof you need."

Blake's words detonated in the room, shredding the polite chatter to pieces.

Eyes darted between the three of us. Whispers spread like a current.

"You know...the Maxwell siblings never did look alike."

"But Blake and that girl... they look like twins."

"Do you think it's true?"

"Well, this party just got interesting."

Mom and Dad exchanged a shocked glance, muttering, "Blake and Sierra do look alike..."

Blake soaked in the whispers and pointed fingers directed at me, his eyes gleaming with hatred and triumph.

I just watched him, my expression unreadable. "Blake, have you been binging too many 'swapped at birth' stories? You say I'm fake, and that makes it true?"

I knew Blake had hated me since we were kids.

Maybe it was because I was the older sister, and I'd stolen half of Mom and Dad's affection. Or maybe because I outshone him in everything, always stealing his thunder...

Whatever the reason, he always looked for ways to put me down, wishing I wasn't his sister.

After he got hooked on those 'fake heiress' web novels, he became absolutely convinced that I was swapped at birth and that Jim's daughter, who looked like him, was the true Maxwell heiress.

So, Blake pulling this stunt today? Honestly, it wasn't much of a surprise.