Swapped in for My Brother and Married the Real Deal

On the day my older brother, Morgan Slater, is supposed to register his marriage with Savannah Reed, he doesn't show up at the city hall at all. Instead, he calls me, who's there to hype up the atmosphere as the best man.

"Savannah is a fake heiress. She's even poorer than me now. Why would I marry her?"

After ending the call, I see two comments floating in front of me all of a sudden.

[Morgan really is stupid! The paternity test has it all wrong! Savannah is the real deal!]

[He has already reached the marriage stage! I can't believe he actually lets the real heiress slip through his fingers just like that!]

I instantly turn around to see Savannah standing in a corner on her own. Despite having gotten kicked out of the Reed family, the cheap dress does little to conceal her charm.

After giving it some thought, I approach her, knowing full well that I resemble Morgan a lot when it comes to my looks.

"Sorry, but Morgan won't be coming today," I say bluntly.

Savannah seems to have expected that outcome. All she does is hum in response.

"My family has wronged you this time. If you don't mind, is it okay if I marry you instead?"

Savannah narrows her eyes at me. Her gaze flits over my face, which is similar to Morgan's.

Morgan spends the day looking for another rich woman to marry.

As for me, I've already registered my marriage with Savannah and become the official son-in-law of the Reeds.

I held my fresh-out-of-the-oven marriage certificate, feeling a little dazed.

Before that day, I'd only met Savannah Reed once, when she came to visit our family. My brother, Morgan Slater, had never allowed me to talk to any of the rich women he had his eye on, so she didn't know me at all.

But now, we were legally married, and we were even going to live under the same roof.

"I'm going to take a shower. If you're hungry, there's food in the fridge." Her voice, a little awkward and stiff, pulled me back to reality.

I opened the tiny fridge. Inside was just one small vegetarian takeout box.

On the live stream, I saw comments float up on the screen.

[The poor female lead. Not only did she get kicked out, but she also owes the Reed family over two million dollars for raising her. She can only eat the cheapest boxed meals around now.]

[She's not used to this kind of food, though. She's taken, what, two bites in two days?]

By the time Savannah finished her shower and came out, there was a plate of steaming hot food on a chipped plate sitting on the table.

My back was to her as I quietly ate my half. There hadn't been much to begin with, and split in two, it would be gone in just a few bites. But I deliberately waited until the water stopped running before I started shoveling it into my mouth.

On the way here, I'd scoured the Internet for everything I could about Savannah. She was the Reed family's only daughter and had been born with a silver spoon. She was used to the good things in life, was beautiful, and was wealthy. There was no shortage of men trying to cozy up to her.

Ascetic, aloof, clean-cut, and seductive—she'd seen them all. But the reason she liked Morgan was that he'd once saved a kid from drowning.

So, she liked kind men.

I couldn't stage some fake accident like that. It would be way too obvious. But a man who stayed calm, didn't cause drama, and was willing to stick by her and endure hardship with her… For someone in her position, who'd fallen from grace, that also counted as kindness.

Sure enough, her voice turned hoarse. "I thought you'd turn your nose up at the food."

I looked back at her and swallowed my last bite right in front of her. "I'm not picky, and I don't eat much. Still, having takeout all the time isn't healthy. Starting tomorrow, I'll cook for you."

I caught the flash of surprise in her eyes. It only lasted a second, though, before she looked away and went to a corner to answer a call.

That night, she slept on the bed, and I slept on the floor. I didn't argue. I couldn't let her think I was that desperate—that I expected us to sleep together the second we were married.

Late at night, when everything was quiet, Morgan sent me a text. "I found another rich lady, and she happens to have a few single friends. Pick one, and the two of us will never have to work hard again."

He'd attached photos of five women—they were all old and less than pleasant-looking.

I replied with a photo of the marriage certificate I'd taken earlier on. "I got married."