I'd run this company for two years. I still had some pull.

They glanced at each other. For a second, no one moved.

"Does Luca still have something up his sleeve?"

"Now that you say it... I saw him at a banquet with the chairman and his wife. They treated him like royalty."

"And he's actually good at this. In two years as CEO, the stock more than tripled..."

Philip's face darkened. He pointed at me. "You got here by sucking up to my parents! Now that I'm back, you think they'll protect a fake like you?"

I ignored him and looked at Clara. "End the pregnancy. Leave him. I'll act like none of this happened."

She smiled and walked over.

For a second, I thought she'd come to her senses. Something warm hit my chest. I reached for her—

She slapped me. Hard.

"How are you still not getting it?" She blew on her palm, disgust all over her face. "I got fooled, that's why I ended up engaged to a fake like you.

"The fact I'm not asking for compensation is already generous. And you think I'd struggle through life with you? Keep dreaming."

Then she turned to the crowd, voice raised. "Did you know? This guy's completely useless. Two years together, and he didn't even dare touch me."

The room burst out laughing. The live chat went feral.

[This fake's not just fake—he probably can't even get it up.]

[Philip, hurry it up. Get to the next part. Strip him and check if it's real.]

[Not gonna lie, the fake's got a decent face. Send him my way, I'll have some fun.]

I stared at her, stunned.

My chest went cold.

Clara was my first love. I liked her the second I saw her. She was exactly my type.

I didn't touch her because I respected her. I wanted to wait for our wedding night.

Never thought that would turn into her weapon.

So all that softness was fake.

I watched Philip pull her in, heard him brag, "See? I'm the real man."

The way they played around snapped something in me.

"You trash!"

I tore free, lunged forward, grabbed him, and slammed my fist into his face.

He folded in my grip like nothing. I trained regularly—one punch was all it took.

I lost it, pounding him without holding back.

Clara screamed. That finally snapped everyone out of it. They rushed in and dragged me off.

Philip's face was wrecked—blood smeared everywhere, already swelling and bruising.

"You're dead, you hear me? Kill him!" he screamed, eyes full of hate.

The others shifted, ready to prove themselves.

I swept a cold look over them. "I'm still the CEO. Who's got the guts to touch me?"

My voice stayed low, but no one moved.

It was true. Lombardo Corp hadn't officially removed me.

I flicked the blood off my hand, fixed my collar, and looked at Philip. "Take that as a warning. Leave now, and for your parents' sake, I'll let it go."

Philip snapped at the way I looked at him.

"You're just a fake, and you still act tough? If I don't kill you today, I'm not Lombardo!"

Philip's eyes were bloodshot, wild like a rabid dog.

He kept cursing. I frowned.

I'd heard about him. The son Chairman Nicolo Lombardo and his wife, Martina Jacini, had just brought back—their long-lost heir. He used to run the streets. Then he went online, calling himself a scam-buster, a fraud hunter. No limits. That's how he blew up.

Anyone he targeted got wrecked. Even if they made it out, they were never clean again.

But this time, he picked the wrong target.

I wasn't some fake heir.

I was the youngest heir of the Lombardo dynasty—the richest man in the world.

The Montavian Lombardos? Just a junior branch under my family. Even Lombardo Corp Montavia answered to me.

I rotated through our overseas branches, two years at a time, running them as CEO to see how they really operated.

These past two years, it'd been Montavia.

I was a Lombardo, so they all assumed I belonged to the Montavian branch.

I let them.

"I'll say this one last time. My identity isn't something you get to question."

Philip's face went cold. "You still playing pretend? Fine. I'll make sure you stop for good."

He pulled out a document and shoved it at the phone. "See this? My parents transferred everything to me. That includes this company."

He flashed a smug grin at the camera. "Watch closely. I'm ending this guy."

He flung the document at my face. "You're fired. And..." His grin turned nasty. "You're not getting paid. Call the last two years free labor for our family."

The chat instantly erupted in praise.

The employees switched up fast. They crowded around Philip, greeting him.

A few got bold, pointing right at me, yelling—

"Where's that attitude now? The Lombardo family dropped you. If you know what's good for you, beg our new CEO to spare you!"

My expression darkened. Something felt off.

Under Lombardo rules, a junior branch couldn't move major assets without approval from the main family. It had to be reported—and signed off by me.

So Nicolo and Martina made moves behind my back. Planning to betray us?

Before I could sort it out, Philip—patched up—swaggered over.

He reached out and tapped my face. "What's wrong? Scared now? Get on the floor and beg—make it good—and maybe I'll spare you."

A sick grin spread across his face.

I slapped his hand away. "Keep your filthy hands off me."

He staggered back, almost falling.

Clara caught him fast and snapped at me, "You ungrateful jerk! How dare you touch Philip!"

She spun on the others. "What are you waiting for? You still think he's the CEO? Beat him!"

They rushed in and pinned me down.

"You fake. I've hated you for a while. Always acting cold, making me work overtime. Today you're getting what you deserve!"

"You think just anyone can be CEO? You're a delusional idiot!"

"Lombardo Corp belongs to Philip now. Who do you think you are?"

Fists and kicks came nonstop. Blood filled my mouth.

But looking at their smug faces, I started to laugh.

Enjoy it while you can. You won't be laughing in a minute.

They talked tough, but the second they saw blood, they backed off.

I wiped my mouth and looked around.

Same faces.

Some grinned, full of it.

Others stared at the floor, too scared to meet my eyes.

Today's quarterly meeting pulled in Lombardo Corp's top players—most of them I'd handpicked over the last two years.

Before me, Montavia's Lombardo Corp was barely mid-tier.

I took over and flipped everything. Cut the dead weight riding seniority. Gave the overlooked ones a real shot.

Promotions. Raises. I broke rules to make it happen.

Two years later, the company's value tripled. Industry leader.

And yesterday? These same people were lined up outside my office, sucking up.

Now?

Not a single one spoke.

Seeing them hesitate, he shoved Clara aside. "What are you scared of? I'm Lombardo Corp's CEO now—the real Lombardo heir," Philip said.

He jabbed a finger at me. "And him? A fake. Exposing him's doing everyone a favor. Got a problem with that?"

He lifted the signing board again. "Sign it and get a raise."

That was all it took.

A department manager I'd personally promoted stepped up, signed, then spat in my face. "Trash like you belongs in the dump. Why show up and get in Philip's way?"

Philip cracked up and tossed him a bonus on the spot. "Who's next? Make me happy, you get paid."

Their eyes lit up. One by one, they signed, branding me a "fake heir."

"Luca, you trash who stole someone else's life. Your real parents are probably rotting in some dump!"

"A fake's always a fake. That poverty stink on you? Disgusting."

"If you hadn't hit Philip, we might've said a word for you. For old times' sake, maybe we'd let you stay—clean toilets. Hahaha!"

They took turns ripping me apart, grinding me down to nothing.

It hit me—this was almost funny.

I was born rich. People smiled at me my whole life.

After I took over the family business, the respect only got louder.

When I first showed up at Lombardo Corp Montavia, they treated me like royalty.

I thought I'd earned that with my skills.

Guess not. To them, status was everything.

You don't see people clearly until you're down—who's real, who's just a shadow.

Lombardo Corp Montavia? It'd probably been rotten to the core for a long time.

After they had their fun, Philip gave a signal. A few bulky bodyguards stepped in.

They slammed me down and ripped my clothes off.

A neon vest—"FAKE"—went on. A placard hung from my neck. The camera zoomed in for the livestream.

[Hell yeah! You're the king! This is peak content. Every expose hits hard!]

[Thought rich dudes act untouchable why you crawling now.]

[Philip, don't stop. Keep it coming. Need the next part.]

Philip looked down at me. "My fans want it? I deliver."

He had them pin me down, then drove his foot into my chest. Pain blew through me. Blood came up.

"Exposing fakes means a beating. Hit him. Hard."

These guys knew what they were doing—every strike landed where it hurt most.

Cold shot through me. I forced it out, "They're trying to kill me. Call the chairman. If he finds out I got hurt, you all are done."

"Still dreaming?" Philip sneered.

He pressed his foot into the wound. I sucked in air. "Why would my dad help a fake? He wishes you'd disappear. Stop embarrassing the family."

He glanced at the bodyguards. "Keep going. If he dies, it's on me."

So he wasn't stopping.

I shut my eyes, ready to play my last card.

Then the conference room doors slammed open.

Nicolo and Martina stood there, out of breath.

Nicolo took one look at the mess and snapped—

"What the hell is going on?!"