After I reunited with my real family, I somehow became a copycat who got on my father's nerves.

The fake heir, Duncan Weaver, studied abroad at a top university.

So I got into grad school after studying for just three months.

When Duncan came back to start a business, I built a leading men's clothing brand in the industry within a year.

When Duncan made the news for volunteering in rural schools, I donated millions of dollars and ended up making bigger headlines.

They couldn't stand it. But they couldn't beat me either.

Then one day, right after Duncan publicly announced his engagement, I posted my own wedding announcement the very next day.

My biological father, who hadn't contacted me in three years, immediately called.

He ordered me to take down my wedding photos.

"You copying Duncan in everything was already bad enough," he snapped. "Now you're even trying to steal his fiancée? What the hell are you thinking?"

On the other end of the call, I could hear Duncan crying.

"Dad, don't say that," he said between sobs. "I asked Chelsea. She doesn't even know Leo.

"That wedding photo he posted is fake. He edited it just to piss me off."

Who was Chelsea?

Since when did the woman I had grown up with for 18 years at the orphanage become someone else's fiancée?

Then Duncan sent over his own wedding photo.

What a funny coincidence.

The woman in the photo looked exactly like my fiancée.

I checked the photos again and again.

My fiancée and this woman in the photos looked almost identical.

When I stayed silent for too long, the voice on the other end of the phone turned mocking again.

"Well? Nothing to say now that you've been exposed?"

"I'm outside your door. Let's talk face to face," I stated coldly.

My father looked like he had seen a ghost when he opened the door.

Only when he noticed the expensive gifts I was carrying did he finally step aside to let me in.

"At least you came to apologize," he said coldly. "Maybe you're not completely hopeless. But let me give you some advice: you should give up now. I know you like competing with Duncan, but the Trivetts are a powerful old-money household. They would never accept a nobody influencer like you."

Our family had been close with the Trivetts for generations.

When Duncan Weaver and I were kids, our families even arranged a future marriage alliance.

The day I reunited with my real family, the Trivetts sent word.

They only recognized Duncan as their future son-in-law.

When they heard I was an online streamer, they treated me with open disdain and kept their distance.

They had never once agreed to meet me.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," I said.

I lifted my left hand, showing the expensive wedding ring on my finger.

"My fiancée's family is far wealthier than the Trivetts. Honestly, families that try so hard to look important like them don't impress me.

"And by the way, I'm not here to apologize. I came to deliver a wedding invitation.

"My fiancée cares about manners. She insisted I come, said it would be a shame to leave things unfinished.

"But judging by today… There's really nothing worth remembering here."

I turned to leave.

But Duncan suddenly rushed over and grabbed my hand.

When our hands ended up side by side, our rings looked exactly the same.

"I can't believe you even copied the ring!" he shouted. "You actually spent that kind of money just to piss me off. Even the wedding invitations are the same! How long are you planning to keep harassing me?"

He broke down and ran straight into my father's arms.

"Just because I'm your real son, does that mean I don't deserve happiness?"

Watching Duncan sob like that, my father finally lost control.

A loud smack echoed through the room. My face burned as five red finger marks appeared across my cheek.

"If I had known you were this shameless and crazy, I never would've acknowledged you as my son," he snapped.

I pressed my hand to my face.

It took everything I had to keep the tears from falling.

I had started out as a livestreamer, mostly because I looked exactly like a young Matthew Weaver, an actor. Viewers joked about it constantly, telling me I should go find him and claim him as my father.

At first, it was just a running gag for the show.

Then, someone online started digging.

And it turned out that I actually was Matthew's biological son.

We had been switched at birth in the hospital.

The reunion went viral.

My father returned to the spotlight because of it.

Duncan also gained a lot of attention by playing the role of the loving brother. He started his own account, gradually taking away my followers and brand deals.

At the time, I thought I had finally found a real family, so I didn't think much of it.

But the moment I followed Duncan's encouragement and got accepted into graduate school, everything changed.

Suddenly, I was labeled as a scheming copycat.

No matter what I did, online comments accused me of imitating Duncan. The attacks got so bad that I eventually disappeared for a long time.

I almost quit entirely.

My father pointed at me, furious.

"If you still want to call me 'Dad,' delete your post right now and apologize to Duncan. Do that, and we'll pretend this never happened."

I lifted my head stubbornly. "I'm your son, too. Has there ever been even a single moment when you wanted to believe me?"

Maybe my voice had been too desperate.

For a brief second, my father hesitated, and his expression softened slightly.

But Duncan cried even harder.

"Stop pretending!" he said. "There's no way two different people could look exactly the same!"

Maybe he was right.

If I hadn't grown up with Irene Nelson since we were kids, even I might have wondered if Chelsea Trivett had teamed up with Duncan just to play a cruel joke on me.

My fiancée, Irene, had always cared about proper manners.

She had been asking to meet my parents for a long time, but I kept refusing.

Now… The timing felt perfect.

"Believe it or not," I said. "In three days, Irene will come and visit in person."

For the first time since walking in, I looked directly into my father's eyes.

"When that happens, will you apologize to me?"

But three days later, I ended up locked out.

It's kind of funny when you think about it.

It was my biological parents' house, yet I didn't even have a key.

I waited outside for an hour before my father finally showed up.

When he saw me, he looked surprised.

"Leo? How long have you been standing out here? Sorry if I kept you waiting. Mr. Trivett invited us to dinner. We had to show him some respect."

Behind him, Duncan was following closely beside a middle-aged gentleman, looking especially attentive.

The man looked me up and down.

"So you're Leo. I heard your fiancée looks exactly like my daughter, Chelsea, so I came to see for myself. Where is she?"

Duncan covered his mouth and laughed lightly, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Mr. Trivett, you're just too kind to believe something like that. It's only been three days. Even if he wanted to hire someone to get plastic surgery to look like Chelsea, there wouldn't have been enough time."

I calmly took a sip of tea. "Irene had to fly to Crowston yesterday for a meeting. She'll come straight here after she lands."

My father's eyes lit up instantly. "Sounds like she's busy. What does she do?"

Irene had always kept a low profile. Other than knowing she owned several companies, I didn't really know what she did day to day.

"She works at her family's company. They're the Nelsons."

The others exchanged glances and laughed.

"The Nelsons? Never heard of them. Did you forget to make up the background story, too?"

Right then, the doorbell rang.

For a brief second, I almost rushed forward, ready to pull the person at the door into my arms.

But when I saw the lilies in her hand and noticed the small beauty mark under her eye was gone, I realized immediately that this wasn't Irene.

I was allergic to lilies. She would never forget that.

"Am I late?" the woman asked.

"No," Duncan said with a smile. "Perfect timing."

He took the flowers and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Chelsea touched her ear shyly. The little habit looked exactly like Irene's.

Chelsea's eyes lingered on me longer than they should have.

Duncan quickly stepped in front of me. "Well? My fiancée is here. Where's yours? Or did seeing Chelsea in person scare your actress away?"

My phone had no new messages. Her phone was still off.

A quiet doubt began creeping into my mind.

Were they really not the same person?

Suddenly, the doorbell rang again.

I hurried over and opened the door, hope rising in my chest.

Instead, a line of local delivery workers stood outside. One after another, they carried gift boxes inside. Within minutes, the living room was piled high.

"Sorry," one of them said politely. "Ms. Nelson had an urgent matter come up. She couldn't make it today. These gifts are meant as her apology."

Duncan burst out laughing on the spot. "You think spending a little money will make us believe you? Leo, you're really making a fool of yourself!"

Samuel Trivett picked up his briefcase.

"Well, I've seen enough of this show."

He turned to my father, his expression sharp with warning.

"If your son has mental issues, take him to see a doctor. If he's that desperate to get married, he can go find some older woman. But if he keeps pulling nonsense like this, it will only embarrass the Trivetts."

In the end, my father walked him out the door almost deferentially, smiling nervously the whole way.

When he came back, I was already leaving.

"I wish you had died out there back then," he said to me, cold and expressionless.

That night, Irene apologized to me for three full hours before I finally calmed down.

I still had questions, but neither of us brought up the topic of meeting my parents again.

Instead, we quietly focused on preparing for the wedding.

I didn't expect to run into Duncan again while trying on my wedding suit.

"I don't care if someone already ordered it," he said loudly. "Whatever he paid, I'll pay double."

The store manager tried to explain politely. "It's not really about the money…"

"Do you even know who I'm marrying?" Duncan said with a smug grin. "It's the Trivetts from South Mistburg! In this whole city, who would dare go against them?"

When the manager saw me walk in, he looked like someone who had just been rescued.

"The suit was custom-designed for Mr. Presley," he explained quickly. "It was created to celebrate the designer's collaboration brand debuting at Preesia Fashion Week."

That only made Duncan's jealousy burn hotter.

"Honestly, the suit doesn't even look that special." He leaned close to my ear, his voice low and cold like a whispering snake. "But if it belongs to you, I want it even more."

The next second, his tone changed completely.

He turned around and collapsed dramatically into Chelsea's arms, his voice trembling like he was about to cry.

"Chelsea… Everyone keeps saying I'm the fake heir. That I'm not worthy of anything…"

Chelsea gently rubbed his head and comforted him softly.

"You're the Trivetts' future son-in-law. Nobody gets to pick on you. If you like the suit, just take it."

The store manager hesitated and looked at me helplessly.

I nodded.

I didn't mind.

After all, Duncan had spent months pushing himself to slim down, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference.

There was no way the suit would fit him.

Sure enough, a loud rip came from the fitting room.

A startled shout followed. When Duncan stepped back out, clearly furious, he stomped on the suit a few times out of spite.

That finished it.

The few decorative buttons left on the suit scattered across the floor like rain.

The manager quickly walked over, holding the bill. People nearby were already watching the scene like it was entertainment.

Duncan's face turned red with embarrassment and anger.

"Why are you rushing me?" he snapped. "If I can try it on, I can pay for it!"

But the moment he saw the number on the bill…

"What? Two million dollars?"

Duncan nervously glanced at Chelsea.

Samuel had only given them a budget of 200 thousand dollars. Even if Duncan begged, he wouldn't dare push it ten times higher.

"Chelsea, it's this stupid suit's fault. It scratched my hand, so I lost my temper…"

"It's fine," Chelsea said calmly. She signed the bill without hesitation. "But you'll have to explain it to my dad yourself."

Duncan froze for a second.

Her tone still sounded affectionate, but her eyes kept drifting toward me.

Even Duncan, who had been smug moments earlier, seemed to notice something strange.

I suddenly found the situation amusing.

I leaned closer to his ear and whispered softly, copying his earlier tone, "I'm wondering, what if Chelsea's actually helping me mess with you?"