The second the call ended, a new message from Winston popped up on my phone.

To make Louise happy, he had decided to throw a big welcome dinner in a couple of days, introducing her as his fiancée. It wasn't just a celebration for her return; it was his way of announcing their engagement to everyone in their circle.

He added, [You have to be there. Apologize to Louise properly.

[You're her brother. Your mom's gone, and your dad's seriously ill. You're the only family she has left. You need to stand up for her and give her support, make this look good.

[If you don't come, you're disrespecting me. We're done as friends.]

Done as friends?

I stared at the screen, my fingers going cold.

He hadn't even mentioned this to me beforehand, let alone asked. He just made the call on his own, stepping right over me, the actual Anderson, to back up that fake Louise.

Memories surged up, one after another.

All those nights over the past ten years, Winston would sling an arm around my shoulders, a little drunk, completely unguarded, talking like it was just the two of us in the world.

He would tell me how badly he wanted to meet the "Louise" on the other end of his phone, how perfect they were together, and…how much he loved her.

I could only swallow that bitter sweetness and play my part, answering him like a friend.

"She's probably waiting for you, too."

Heh.

So that was how much he loved me.

Not even enough to recognize me when I was standing right in front of him.

After a long while, I picked up my phone again and replied to him.

[Fine. I'll be there.]

The night of the dinner, the ballroom glittered with polished suits and evening gowns. Anyone who mattered in Silverridge had been invited.

Winston spotted me almost immediately. He pushed through the crowd, grinning.

"Sam, I knew you'd come."

Louise clung tightly to his arm, looking me up and down with open hostility.

"Why did you even invite him?" she said. "All dressed up like this… Who knows if he's here to apologize or just trying to get your attention?"

Winston saw she was still upset and nudged me lightly. "Since you're here, just apologize already. What you said last time was out of line."

I looked at Louise, her face full of smug satisfaction.

Then I smiled, like I was giving in.

"Alright."

I turned, flagged down a server, and took a small cup of mango pudding off the tray. Then I stepped forward and held it out to her.

"That was my fault. Have something sweet, cool off a little. Don't stay mad at me, okay?"

Her gaze flicked between me and the dessert. She let out a soft, disdainful huff through her nose before finally reaching out to take it.

"Hmph. That's more like it."

She poked at it lazily with a spoon. The taste must've been decent, because her expression eased just a little.

"As long as you disappear from Winston's life completely and stay far away, I might consider taking you back as my brother."

Her words were sharp enough to cut.

I just gave a quiet laugh and shook my head, not a trace of anger, like an overly indulgent older brother.

Seeing the tension ease between us, Winston finally relaxed. He took Louise's arm, looking energized as he led her toward the center stage.

He took the microphone from the host, his voice carrying clearly across the room.

"First of all, thank you all for coming tonight. Please join me in welcoming the love of my life, Louise, back home."

Applause broke out instantly.

Winston glanced at Louise beside him, his expression soft, then continued, "While we're here, I have more good news to share. Louise and I will be getting married very soon."

The applause grew louder, mixed with cheers and congratulations.

Winston's gaze swept through the crowd and landed right on me.

"Now, I'd like to invite Louise's brother, and my best friend, Sam, to come up and say a few words."

All eyes turned to me at once.

I walked up to the stage, steady and unhurried, and took the microphone.

"Good evening. I'm Sam, the current head of the Andersons."

I paused on purpose, my gaze sliding over the two of them standing side by side. Winston's smile faltered slightly, as though he couldn't quite read what I was about to do.

I met his uncertain look and spoke, slow and clear.

"On behalf of the Andersons, I fully oppose this marriage between Winston and Louise."

Before I even finished, a sharp wave of gasps rippled through the crowd.

I raised my hand and pointed straight at the woman leaning against him. My voice cut clean through the noise.

"Because this 'Louise' is a complete fake!"

The entire ballroom erupted. Shock and disbelief were written all over every face.

Winston was the first to snap out of it. He stepped forward, practically shouting.

"Sam, do you even hear yourself? Have you lost your mind?!"

His defense steadied Louise instantly. The panic drained from her face, and she slipped out from behind him, suddenly looking all wounded and aggrieved.

She glared at me, eyes shining with tears.

"Don't listen to him. He's lying! Sam, you think no one can see what you're really after? You couldn't have Winston, so you snapped. You'd even call your own sister fake just to tear me down. You don't care about anything anymore. You're so sick and twisted. It's disgusting!"

Her voice rose, thick with emotion.

With all that thrown at me, and every eye in the room turning strange, I just let out a quiet laugh.

I looked at Winston, his face dark, and asked evenly, "Do you remember when you and Louise were rushed to the hospital when you were eight?"

The question came out of nowhere.

Winston froze, his voice stiff. "I remember. Why are you bringing that up?"

I didn't answer him. My gaze shifted back to Louise, a faint edge of mockery in it.

"That was because Louise is allergic to mango. You snuck her into the kitchen and gave her some they were using for dessert. Her throat swelled up so badly that she almost suffocated. Louise, I just handed you a mango pudding. You ate plenty of it, and nothing happened. Care to explain?"

It clicked for Winston. His grip on her loosened without him even realizing it.

Louise's eyes flickered, then she shot back sharply, "Explain what? It's just an allergy. It's not a problem anymore! You said it yourself, that was when I was eight. After that, I got treated overseas with the latest desensitization therapy. It's been cured for years."

"Wrong again."

I gave a soft, almost amused shake of my head.

"I lied. That didn't happen when you were eight. It was seven. It happened the day after your birthday party. Right, Winston?"

Louise's eyes went wide. She never thought that was my real trap.

She turned instinctively toward Winston.

He didn't answer directly. But in front of everyone, he looked at her, then slowly stepped back, putting a good couple of feet between them.

That said enough.

The room shifted, the air tightening as whispers spread.

Louise faltered for a second, but she still forced herself to hold on.

"That was over ten years ago! Who remembers something like that perfectly? Besides, everything you've said is just guesses and word games. Where's your proof? Without real evidence, all you're doing is trying to trap me with your words."

She took a breath and looked around at the crowd.

Wronged, but refusing to back down, she straightened her spine.

"Fine. Since everyone's doubting me, let's settle this here. I swear to God, I'm the real Louise. Sam, show them your evidence.

"But let me make one thing clear. I knew you'd come after me the second I came back. I came prepared. And if this proves you're lying…

"I won't just make you apologize. I'll have you begging for forgiveness. And you can forget about ever stepping foot in Anderson Corporation again!"

I nodded, satisfied.

"Sure."

I was done wasting time on her anyway, so I agreed without hesitation. I lifted a hand slightly toward my assistant in the crowd.

"Josh, since everyone's waiting, bring it up."

Josh Moore hurried up to the stage with a flash drive in hand and plugged it into the computer.

The massive screen in the ballroom flickered to life.

The first image was a close-up of an old, faded photograph.

Five-year-old Louise had a distinct pink birthmark on the inside of her arm. I walked up to the woman on stage, grabbed her wrist, and turned her arm over, exposing smooth, unmarked skin.

"Where's your birthmark, Louise?"

Her expression darkened, but she didn't panic. She shook me off with clear irritation, then gave a subtle signal to a nearby server, who quickly brought her handbag over.

She calmly pulled out a document, unfolded it, and held it up for everyone to see.

Her voice carried just the right hint of lingering fear, her eyes shimmering with tears.

"When I was 15, not long after I arrived in Winderton to study abroad, I was in a serious car accident. My arm was badly injured. That was when the birthmark was destroyed. These are my medical records from back then, along with my annual follow-up reports. You're all welcome to take a look."

The server uploaded the documents onto the big screen.

Winston studied the detailed records in silence, then quietly pulled out a clean handkerchief and held it out to her.

Not bad.

She barely held her ground in the first round.

I tilted my chin and signaled my assistant to show the next image.

It was a postcard Louise had sent Winston last year, with a short message written on the back.

"I'm assuming you haven't forgotten your own handwriting in just one year. Go ahead and write it again. Let's compare."

Josh stepped forward at the right moment, handing her a pen and paper.

Louise took a slow breath. Her hand hovered for a second before she started writing.

A moment later, Josh projected the new sample onto the screen.

The two samples matched almost perfectly. The pressure of each stroke, the spacing, and the structure were nearly identical.

Winston stared at the handwriting, then stumbled forward a couple of steps. His eyes lit up with disbelief and relief, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Louise… It really is you…"

Louise caught every bit of his reaction, and her confidence settled in instantly. She turned to me with her chin lifted, her tone smug and sharp.

"Sam, you see that? Even Winston recognized me. What else do you have to say? Don't tell me that's all the evidence you have!"

Everyone in the ballroom leaned in, waiting for my next move.

But I didn't move at all. I just stood there, watching her.

She took my silence as surrender and raised her voice.

"Fine. If you can't come up with anything real, then let's look at my evidence!"

She yanked another document from her bag and practically threw it at Josh.

"Put this on the screen. Make sure everyone sees it clearly. All his accusations are nothing but guesses, but what I have is real, scientific proof!"

Josh glanced at me. I gave a small nod.

The screen lit up again.

It was a paternity test report.

Every eye in the room locked onto it. The key conclusion was underlined:

[The tested father, Randolph Anderson, and the tested child, Louise Anderson, are confirmed to be biologically related.]

"See that? Before I even met you, I knew you were up to something. I visited Dad at the hospital and had a DNA test done while I was there. It's right there in black and white. I'm his daughter. You're saying I'm not Louise? Then who is? You?"

Her voice rang through the ballroom.

At this point, it looked like a dead end.

Winston rushed forward, grabbed the original report, and flipped through it quickly. When he looked up again, his eyes were full of guilt and concern.

"Louise, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go through this."

He pulled her behind him protectively, then threw the report down at my feet.

"Sam, I must've been blind. I actually called someone like you my friend for ten years. I won't let you smear Louise again."

He took a deep breath, his gaze turning cold and distant.

"From today on, we're done. If you come after Louise again, I'll make sure you regret it!"

With Winston taking her side, the guests were completely convinced. Their whispers spread through the room like venom.

"The paternity test is out. Sam's got nothing now. What kind of person frames his own sister like that?"

"Didn't she say it? Something's wrong with him. No wonder he used to cling to Winston all the time. That's just messed up."

"Seriously, trying to steal his sister's fiancé? That's low. And he thinks he deserves to run the Andersons?"

Louise saw that I had completely lost the room. There wasn't a trace of tension left on her face. She smiled at me, cruel and almost playful.

"Sam, aren't you going to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness? Don't worry, I know the family rules. The business passes to sons, not daughters. If I'm happy with your begging, I might feel generous and reconsider kicking you out of Anderson Corporation."

The entire ballroom fell silent. Everyone was waiting to watch me break.

But I didn't even acknowledge her. I didn't bother looking at Winston, either.

I simply raised a hand toward Josh.

"Do you know why I knew you were a complete fake the moment I saw you?"

I let the question hang in the air.

Slowly, I reached into my suit jacket and pulled out a thin card.

At the same time, a new image appeared on the screen. It was a government-issued ID, with key details partially blurred.

On the left side was my photo.

But on the right, the information hit like a bomb.

[Name: Louise Anderson

[Gender: Female]

A wave of shocked gasps swept through the ballroom.

My gaze moved across the stunned faces, one by one, before settling on the terrified imposter.

I looked at her, a faint edge of mockery in my voice.

"You got it wrong from the start. I don't have a sister recovering somewhere overseas. I AM Louise Anderson."