The Fake Heir’s Lie Allergy

My adopted brother, Peter, was allegedly allergic to lies. He claimed that whenever he heard one, he would break out in hives, sneeze uncontrollably, and his eyes would stream with tears.

On the very first day I returned to my biological family, Peter immediately suffered a massive allergic reaction. His skin turned bright red and swelled up, his eyes and nose running non-stop.

From that moment on, my entire family branded me a pathological liar with zero morals.

Later on, my grandmother, who was paralyzed from a severe stroke, was pushed down a flight of stairs.

When they asked me, I simply shook my head and said, "It wasn't me."

The very next second, Peter went into anaphylactic shock and collapsed right in front of everyone.

My father was furious. My mother screamed and cried at me.

My older sister, Jacqueline, slapped me across the face so hard my vision went black.

"How could our family produce such a toxic, venomous snake like you?!"

I was humiliated, tortured, and relentlessly punished.

It wasn't until the moment I died that I finally discovered Peter's true secret.

On my very first day back at the Starzyk estate, I didn't hesitate. I poured myself a glass of boiling hot water and drank it straight down.

Only when I felt that agonizing, burning pain searing my throat did I finally relax against the leather seats of the family's Porsche.

In my past life, the second I was reunited with my biological parents and my sister, I had hugged them, my eyes red and brimming with tears of joy.

My mothers voice had choked with emotion as she told me they had finally found me.

Peter, standing off to the side, had looked down at the floor and muttered, "I'm so sorry, brother. I've been occupying your rightful place all these years. Now that you're back, I should give everything back to you."

Jacqueline had immediately frowned, reaching out to gently stroke his hair. "Don't say such silly things. Ethan won't mind."

I had quickly nodded in agreement. "Of course not. I consider you my real brother. We'll always be a family."

It was supposed to be a warm, welcoming reunion.

But the moment the words left my mouth, Peter started furiously rubbing his nose. He sneezed violently, over and over, his hands frantically scratching at his arms, which were rapidly breaking out in angry red hives.

Jacqueline's face immediately darkened. She barked at the maids to fetch his antihistamines.

My parents subtly pulled their hands away from mine. The warm, loving looks they had just given me were instantly replaced by cold, calculated scrutiny.

I was terrified. I couldn't understand how a genuine, heartfelt sentence could trigger such a catastrophic reaction.

I had heard rumors before. The adopted son of the Starzyk family had a bizarre medical condition.

He was supposedly allergic to lies.

The story went that shortly after he was adopted, Peter had a severe allergic reaction to a loyal, longtime nanny.

After a thorough investigation, the family discovered that the nanny was actually a corporate spy hired by a rival firm to steal the Starzyk Corporation's trade secrets.

Another time, during a massive charity gala, Peter couldn't stop sneezing while my father was negotiating with a prominent investor.

Later, they found out the investor was secretly bankrupt and the entire partnership was a massive Ponzi scheme designed to steal their money.

The most famous incident happened at Jacqueline's engagement party. The moment Peter shook hands with her fianc, he broke out in full-body hives and ran a dangerously high fever.

Furious, Jacqueline hired a private investigator. She discovered her seemingly perfect fianc was actually sleeping around and had contracted multiple STDs.

Incident after incident elevated Peter to the status of a holy oracle within the Starzyk family. He was their precious, untouchable little prince.

They trusted him implicitly. And they absolutely refused to let anyone or anything harm him.

Because of him, they instantly threw up their walls against me, their own biological son who had just returned home.

My mother looked incredibly awkward. She forced a stiff smile and asked me how I had been living all these years.

Thinking back to the brutal beatings at the orphanage, the relentless bullying at school, and having to scrape a living off the filthy streets, I offered a bitter, honest smile.

"It was hard, but I survived."

Hearing that, a flicker of genuine heartache finally crossed my mother's face.

But to everyone's shock, Peter's condition didn't improve even after taking his medication. In fact, his arms flared up with massive, swollen welts.

My mother panicked and immediately called for the family doctor. The look she shot me was entirely hostile and guarded.

In her mind, I was obviously lying, playing the victim just to garner sympathy.

Right on cue, Peter played the role of the incredibly reasonable martyr, insisting that he had to pack up his things and give his master bedroom back to me because it "belonged to the rightful heir."

I felt like I was sitting on a bed of nails. I immediately shook my head and said, "I could never take your room. I didn't come back here to steal anything from you."

That single sentence acted like a lit match to gasoline. It triggered the most violent reaction yet.

Peter started gasping for air, clutching his chest, making horrific wheezing sounds like he was suffocating.

Jacqueline lost her mind. She shoved me hard against the wall, screaming at me to stay away from him.

My father's face was completely black with fury.

"That's enough for today," he snapped. "Maria, go prepare a guest room for him. Get him out of my sight."

I stood there, completely paralyzed, watching them swarm around Peter in a panic.

I had no idea what I did wrong. Just like that, the family I had spent my entire life dreaming of finding completely rejected and despised me.

From that day forward, the Starzyk family never gave me a single kind look.

I would hide in the hallways, listening to the maids gossip about how the "newly found young master" was a vicious, pathological liar. They whispered that a piece of trash dragged out of the slums could never compare to their elegant, pampered Peter.

I could only keep my head down, forcing myself to become completely invisible in my own home.

The incident that sealed my absolute destruction happened late one night.

The family had gone out for a walk. I was in my room, studying.

Suddenly, a deafening crash echoed from the hallway. I rushed out of my room, only to see my grandmotherwho had been paralyzed by a stroketumbling violently down the grand marble staircase, wheelchair and all.

I screamed in horror and rushed toward the stairs to help her.

But right at that exact moment, the front doors opened. My family walked in, witnessing the entire scene.

A maid collapsed onto the floor in absolute terror, pointing a trembling finger directly at me.

"Master Ethan said he was going to take the Madam to the gardens for some fresh air! I don't know what happened, he just suddenly pushed her down the stairs!"

Jacqueline broke down instantly. Our grandmother was the person she loved most in the world.

My fathers hands shook uncontrollably as he dialed 911.

Outside the emergency room, the surgeon told us the prognosis was incredibly grim.

Tears streamed down my face. I shook my head frantically. "Please, you have to save her! I don't know why this is happening. I didn't do it!"

But the moment the words left my lips, Peter, standing nearby, went into a severe asthma attack. His face drained of all color, and he collapsed into anaphylactic shock right there in the waiting room.

The chaos exploded.

Peter was rushed into the ER on a stretcher.

My father grabbed me by the collar, his teeth bared in pure, unfiltered rage, roaring at me to shut my mouth.

My mother sobbed hysterically into her hands, praying for her mother-in-law and her precious son.

Jacquelines hair was a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot. She marched up to me and delivered a brutal, ringing slap across my face.

"How many people do you have to kill before you're satisfied?! How did our bloodline produce such a toxic, venomous bastard?! Is there a single ounce of truth in your filthy mouth?!"

I was knocked straight onto the linoleum floor. My mind went completely blank.

I didn't know why this was happening.

I wanted to know how any of this was possible too!

I literally did nothing, yet I was instantly condemned as the family's ultimate villain!

My grandmother died that night.

Peter was transferred to the ICU.

The Starzyk family completely gave up on me. My mother wanted to throw me back onto the streets and severe all legal ties.

But Jacqueline refused. Her voice was pure ice.

"A life for a life. He murdered Grandma. I will make sure he suffers for the rest of his pathetic existence."

From that day on, my life became a living hell. I was locked in the dog kennels or strung up by my wrists from the second-floor balcony.

Jacqueline tortured and humiliated me on a daily basis.

My parents turned a completely blind eye.

I spiraled into total despair. My will to live slowly drained away.

One day, the groundskeeper "forgot" to feed the family's massive Tibetan Mastiff. Starving and rabid, it sank its teeth deep into my calf.

I just lay there on the grass, watching it tear into me, bite after bite.

Eventually, I closed my eyes, letting the agonizing pain drag me down into the abyss.

Remembering every brutal detail of my past life, I clenched my fists tightly.

This time around, I absolutely refused to be their punching bag. I was done living like a coward!

Just like in my previous life, the moment I walked through the door, my family pulled me into a tearful embrace.

And right on cue, Peter delivered his exact same rehearsed line:

"I'm so sorry, brother. I've been occupying your rightful place all these years. Now that you're back, I should give everything back to you."

This time, however, I didn't say a single word. I just stood there, staring at him in dead silence.

His eyes quickly turned red, acting as if my silence was somehow bullying him, and he just kept frantically apologizing.

Seeing this, my family naturally started throwing annoyed, judgmental glances my way.

I looked at them with wide, pitiful eyes. I pointed to my throat and opened my mouth.

My throat was severely blistered, red, and covered in raw ulcers from the boiling water.

Their faces instantly changed. They immediately called for the family doctor.

After a quick examination, the doctor confirmed it was a severe burn, stating that with medication, I wouldn't be able to speak for at least a week or two.

My mother finally let out a sigh of relief.

But then, the doctor frowned heavily.

"The young master is covered in scars, both old and new. It looks like he has lived a very brutal life out there."

Hearing that, my mother pulled out a silk handkerchief and dabbed at her tears. A massive wave of guilt and heartbreak washed over her, making her voice tremble.

"Oh, Ethan... you've suffered so much. I promise, Mommy will never let anyone hurt you ever again."

My father stood nearby. His eyes lingered on the jagged scars cutting across my arms, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"From this day forward, no one will ever dare lay a finger on the heir to the Starzyk family!"

The muscles in Jacqueline's jaw tightened. A flicker of genuine sympathy crossed her normally icy eyes.

Peter was completely blindsided by this sudden shift in the atmosphere.

No one was paying attention to him anymore. He stood frozen in the corner like the main character who just had his spotlight stolen.

At that moment, I looked over and saw my grandmother sitting silently in her wheelchair. My nose stung. I walked over and dropped to one knee beside her.

In my past life, my soul had lingered after I died, desperately trying to figure out what had actually happened. I followed Peter around like a ghost.

That was how I discovered the truth. He wasn't allergic to lies at all.

His "medical condition" was a complete fabrication.

His real secret? He could hear people's inner thoughts.

Whenever he heard someone thinking something different from what they were saying, he would fake an allergic reaction. He used this "power" to build an untouchable persona of pure, infallible honesty.

But the most terrifying secret I learned was straight from his own thoughts.

Years ago, my grandmother had actually tracked down my location. She was overjoyed and immediately started making arrangements to bring me home.

But Peter read her mind. Terrified of losing his status and inheritance, he deliberately unchained the rabid guard dogs and set them loose on her. The sheer terror triggered a massive stroke, paralyzing her and rendering her speechless.

And the only reason she never recovered? Peter had spent years bribing the household staff.

The daily "medication" she drank every night wasn't curing her. It was a slow-acting poison designed to keep her trapped in her own body.

For years, my grandmother had been fully aware of every evil thing Peter had done, but she couldn't move a muscle or speak a word. She was trapped, forced to watch him destroy her family while she slowly waited for death.

I pressed my face gently against my grandmother's frail hand. Hot tears poured down my cheeks.

She was the only one who genuinely loved me, but in my last life, I failed to save her. I even took the fall when Peter's bribed maid pushed her down those stairs to silence her forever.

This time, I swore on my life, I was going to pull her back from the edge of the grave!

Even though she couldn't move, I saw a faint glisten of moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Jacqueline watched us, clearly moved, and quickly turned her head away.

My parents exchanged a look filled with profound relief.

Only Peter was left standing in the distance, entirely shut out of the family's warmth.

Round one. Victory was mine.

That night, Peter slipped into my room, his face twisted in a dark, venomous sneer.

"Don't get too comfortable. My eighteenth birthday is exactly one month from now. Dad already promised to transfer his shares to me as a coming-of-age gift. The Starzyk empire belongs to me."

One month?

I let out a low, silent chuckle.

I was going to make sure his eighteenth birthday was an event he would remember for the rest of his short, miserable life.