The Perfect Illusion

Bad news: I’m the switched-at-birth fake heiress.
Even worse news: I’ve spent my entire life being a spoiled, arrogant brat with zero skills, and now I have nothing to show for it.
And I’m pretty sure this is all my ridiculously overprotective, sister-doting brother’s fault.
So I stormed over to his penthouse in the middle of the night and clung to his leg for dear life.
“Waaah! It’s all your fault you spoiled me rotten! If you don’t take care of me, I’ll… I’ll hang myself from your front door!”
A vein throbbed on my brother’s temple.
“…Just get up, Debra.”

1
I was a mess, sprawled on the polished marble floor, my fingers desperately clutching the leg of Liam Howard’s tailored trousers. I proceeded to wipe my snot and tears all over the expensive fabric.
Liam’s patience finally snapped.
“Debra Howard!”
I looked up at him, my eyes shimmering with tears. Just like that, the anger drained from his face. He took a deep breath, his voice softening.
“Of course, I’ll take care of you. But you have to tell me what happened first, okay?”
It all started the day before.
With graduation just around the corner, I had zero interest in getting an internship. My brilliant plan was to go home and surprise my parents by announcing my intention to mooch off them for the foreseeable future.
Instead, the surprise was on me. I overheard the secret that would turn my world upside down.
Turns out, years ago, my dad had to go overseas for a business trip that was supposed to last several months. He couldn't bear to leave my mom, who was suffering from terrible morning sickness, so he took her with him. A month before her due date, she took a nasty fall and was rushed to a nearby hospital. The baby—me—was born safely, but then a massive earthquake struck.
In the ensuing chaos, two newborns in incubators were accidentally switched.
Now, my parents were in the study, discussing how to contact their biological daughter and make things right. When they mentioned my name, their voices heavy with exhaustion, I couldn't bring myself to listen anymore.
My head felt like it was filled with buzzing bees for the rest of the day.
For a spoiled, clueless girl who had never worked a day in her life, my world had just ended. My sky had fallen.
Growing up, my parents tried everything to find a hobby for me. They hired tutors for piano, ballet, painting, even martial arts. I managed to drive every single one of them away.
It wasn't complicated: I was a bratty chatterbox. I refused to learn and insisted on pulling my tutors into endless, pointless conversations.
Whenever my mom scolded me, I’d immediately hide behind Liam, my lower lip trembling.
“Liam, I don’t like any of this!”
He was a total sucker for it. He’d shield me instantly. “If she doesn’t want to learn, don’t force her.”
My mom would sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Keep spoiling her, Liam. She’ll grow up knowing nothing. Are you going to provide for her then?”
His expression, even as a boy, was firm.
“Yeah. I will.”
And he spent the first part of his life living up to that promise.
After I was born, the family business boomed. My parents were constantly flying around the world. At just six years old, Liam took it upon himself to raise me. You could say I was his project.
But his excessive doting turned me into a little terror.
Didn't want to go to class? That’s fine, as long as I was having fun.
Bullied other kids with my family’s influence? No problem, he’d clean up the mess.
Refused to learn any skills? Who cares? Our family had more than enough money.
That was the value system I’d lived by for twenty-one years. I was all set to be a happy, pampered freeloader for the rest of my life.
And now they were telling me I was the fake heiress.
I couldn’t accept it. I just couldn’t.

2
The thought of my miserable future life brought on a fresh wave of genuine, heartfelt sobs.
“Liam, this is mostly your fault.”
He looked at me, utterly bewildered.
I spoke with the conviction of a prosecutor. “You know what they say, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ I read this story once, about a mother who let her son get away with everything, from stealing candy as a kid to robbing banks as an adult. He ended up on death row, and for his last wish, he asked to see his mom. Do you know what he did? He bit her ear clean off!”
Liam squeezed his eyes shut and took another long, slow breath, his voice tight. “What, exactly, are you planning to steal?”
I panicked. “Ugh, why are you so dense? It’s a metaphor! I’m making a point!”
He actually looked surprised. “A metaphor? Look at you, learning new words.”
That only made me cry harder. “This isn’t a joke! I’m really not your sister!”
Liam froze. Then, he reached down and effortlessly lifted me from the floor.
“I know. But I raised you. Blood or not, I’ll always take care of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“…”
What if the real heiress decided I’d stolen her life of luxury for twenty-one years and convinced my parents to kick me out? Besides, everyone knew me as a spoiled brat. If we ever got into a fight, they’d all take her side and condemn me. My brother adored me, sure, but I wasn't his real sister. Over time…
Oh god, the more I thought about it, the more terrifying it became. It’s not like I asked to be switched at birth!
Seeing my lip tremble again, Liam sighed and knelt in front of me, his voice soft and coaxing, just like all the times before.
“Then what do you want me to do? I’ll agree to anything, okay?”
My head snapped up. “How about you send me to study abroad!”
Liam’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t say anything.
“No, wait, that’s a terrible idea. I made too many enemies in high school, and they’re all overseas now. If they find out I’ve gone from princess to pauper, they’ll make my life a living hell. I’ll probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere…” I chewed on my finger, immediately dismissing my own suggestion.
“Okay, what if you record a video promising to give me a monthly allowance… no, that’s no good either. If we have a falling out, you’ll just cut me off and sue me for blackmail. I’ll end up in jail, and when I get out, I’ll be a mess, and then one of my old enemies will find me and push me off a building—”
The vein on Liam’s forehead was practically pulsing. He clamped a hand over my mouth.
“Enough. I should have burned all of your trashy novels years ago.”
“Mmph! It’s your fault for spoiling me! I’m terrified and you’re still yelling at me!”
The thread of composure I’d been holding onto finally snapped. I grabbed the edge of the sofa, sobbing and stomping my feet.
“Liam, what am I going to do?”
He must have never seen me cry this hard before because he just stared, momentarily stunned. After a long moment, he pulled me into his arms.
“What are you so afraid of? I’m never going to leave you.”

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