I'd barely been welcomed back into the inner circle when the fake heir tried to pull me into his little crew.

The other rich kids, of course, couldn't resist messing with me. They pushed me to smoke and drink, treating me like some obedient stooge.

I was pissed—steam practically coming out of my ears. He, meanwhile, put on this innocent act and said, "Hey, go easy on my brother. He just moved back from the middle of nowhere and doesn't know how things work around here. I'll take this one for him."

Everyone ate up his "loyalty," and just like that, my reputation as some clueless hick was sealed.

That day, he was set on dragging me to another rich-kid party. I was about to put my foot down when, out of nowhere, the steward from one of the capital's old-money families showed up at our door.

He said it was a special order from the lady's father—an extravagant gift.

My parents' faces lit up instantly. They clapped the fake heir on the shoulder, practically glowing with pride. "Ryan, you've made us proud! Looks like Sophia's family is more than pleased with you. This engagement—well, it's as good as done!"

Ryan straightened his tie with practiced charm, shooting me a smug, taunting look.

But when I glanced at the label on the gift box, I couldn't help but laugh.

Every new hire at Harrington Group gets the same welcome package.

If the Chairman of Harrington Group knew someone was mistaking it for an engagement gift for his daughter, he'd be furious enough to lose sleep.

As Ryan Sanders ran his fingers over the gift box stamped with the Harrington Group logo, his eyes practically sparkled with pride.

He even tried to play humble.

"Pete, don't worry about it. Honestly… I always figured this match was supposed to be yours. After all, you're Mom and Dad's real son. It's my fault—I've been in this scene so long, Sophia just assumed it should be me. If it makes you uncomfortable, the gift's yours."

I watched his little performance and nearly laughed out loud.

Sophia—the little terror herself? Everyone knew she was obsessively detail-oriented, borderline insane. She'd make someone redo a presentation three times over a single misplaced comma.

If Ryan wanted to walk straight into the fire, who was I to stop him?

Biting back a grin, I waved him off. "Don't sweat it. Keep it. I don't need that kind of luck anyway."

His face tightened. He'd expected me to turn green with jealousy, but instead, it was like punching a pillow.

"Pete, you're being… very generous," he said through gritted teeth, turning to our parents. "Mom, Dad, it's getting late. I'll take Pete upstairs to rest."

They were still riding high on the prospect of latching onto the Harrington family and readily agreed.

But the second we reached the second floor, Ryan's smile dropped.

He stopped, leaned against the wall, and shot me a cold sneer, "Pete, don't act like you don't care. You're dying of jealousy, aren't you?"

Excuse me? I already said I don't care—does this guy have short-term memory loss?

"Let me make this clear—no matter what, this family and even the Harrington marriage are mine! You're just some hick from nowhere. The only thing you're good for is licking my boots!"

Then, without warning, he lunged toward my shoulder and let himself tumble backward.

"Pete! Why'd you push me?"

The move was so slick you'd think he'd starred in a dozen soap operas.

Too bad he was dealing with me.

The moment he hit the floor, I planted my feet, drew in a breath, and let out a yell ten times louder than his, "Ryan! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Before he could react, I was on top of him, swinging both fists left and right, hammering that pretty-boy face.

Whack! Whack!

Each blow landed sharp and solid—no mistaking the force behind them. I shouted in fake panic as I swung, "Ryan! Don't scare me like this! Wake up! If anything happens to you, how am I supposed to face Mom and Dad?!"

"Pete, you—!"

He tried to push himself up, but I landed two more slaps. Whatever he meant to scream got knocked right back down his throat. His cheeks were already starting to swell under the hits.

Hearing the commotion, Mom and Dad came running up in a panic.

"What's going on?! What happened?!"

Ryan tried desperately to open his eyes a sliver, mumbling incoherently, "Mom… he hit me…"

'Wanna tattle?'

I shot him a sly, wicked grin and slammed both hands hard onto Ryan's chest.

"Mom! Dad! Ryan got so worked up over the engagement news that he lost his balance and passed out! I'm doing CPR! Call 911—hurry!"

Each compression hit with the force of a truck in low gear.

Ryan could only wheeze, his face turning a deep, blotchy red.

Mom and Dad fumbled with their phones while I wrapped my arm around his neck under the guise of brotherly concern.

"Ryan's always looked out for me. Without him, I'd never survive in this crowd! Be a man and hold on—I'm not letting you die!" I yelled as I locked his neck in tight.

Ryan's eyes bulged, rolled back, and he went completely limp.

A cold smirk tugged at my lips.

Trying to play games with me? Someone who'd survived Sophia Harrington's brutal interview process—did he really think I was an easy target?

…

When Ryan finally stirred in the hospital, the first thing he did was grab Mom's sleeve, his face a mask of wounded innocence.

"Pete… I know you're upset. This engagement should've been yours. If you really like Sophia, I can step aside… just please, don't hit me anymore, cough, cough…"

Ryan had some nerve, acting like the Harringtons would give him a second look. All that polished, blue-blood act—what, did he think marrying into old money was like picking apples off a tree?

I was about to fire back when the hospital room door suddenly swung open.

A woman in a sharp business suit stormed in.

"Ryan! Are you okay?"

Before I could even process who it was, Ryan immediately cranked up the act, looking even more pathetic:

"Vi… my whole body hurts, Pete… he…"

Ah. So this was my "bonus older sister," Violet Sanders.

Seeing Ryan like this, her face crumpled with worry. She spun around and fixed me with a glare full of venom. "Pete! Are you even human?! Ryan was just trying to help you make connections, and you beat him for it?!"

"Don't blame Pete… it's my fault. I shouldn't have taken his place all these years, shouldn't have stolen his engagement… It's only natural he hates me…"

Ryan let out a sigh. But his "good sister" went rigid, her voice shaking, "Engagement? You and who…?"

"The Harringtons. Their steward delivered the engagement gift today…"

Violet's hands clenched.

Ohhh.

This reaction—was I walking into one of those classic "she's in love with him but he doesn't see it" situations?

My internal drama radar lit up. I was enjoying the show when Violet sucked in a sharp breath and unloaded on me, "Pete! You violent, small-minded psychopath! Ryan is this family's pride and joy! Sophia noticing him is a testament to who he is. And you—some hick from nowhere—think you're even fit to compete with him?!"

I could practically feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

Nobody was trying to take him. Nobody.

Since Violet had come out swinging, I wasn't about to back down either.

I straightened my back, let my eyes go red, and put on an expression of pure innocence that even Ryan couldn't top.

"Vi… I know I grew up poor out in the sticks, but Mom and Dad taught me that family comes first! Ryan collapsed out of nowhere—his face went totally white! I only did CPR because I was scared he was dying! How can anyone say I hit him? If you really think I meant to hurt him, fine—I'll pay with my own life!"

And with that, I lunged straight for the wall.

"Pete! That's not what your sister meant!"

Mom and Dad panicked, rushing to grab me.

My little speech had hit them right in the guilt, and they whipped around to glare at Violet.

"How dare you talk to your brother like that? He just got back and doesn't know anything! What kind of older sister says things like that?"

Violet curled her lip in disgust, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Mom, just let him go. He's been running wild in the countryside—he has no manners!"

She pulled out a gilt-edged invitation and slapped it on the table.

"The invitations for Mr. Harrington's birthday gala came to the office. Our whole family is named on it, and it specifically says Pete has to come."

The room went dead silent. Even Ryan forgot to play victim.

"I was wondering why a family as elite as the Harringtons would invite us. Now it's clear. Ryan's engagement to Sophia must be locked in, and Mr. Harrington wants to meet his future son-in-law."

She shot me a scornful glance.

"And somehow this little savage gets to ride the coattails. Do us all a favor—stay home and don't embarrass Ryan or screw this up for him."

My stomach dropped.

Ride the coattails? This was clearly a warning shot from the boss.

After I passed the interview, Mr. Harrington had planned to ship me straight to Harrington Group's overseas division to groom me as a direct successor. Then the Sanders family suddenly called me back, and Mr. Harrington gave me a month of family leave to properly reconnect.

Now, with that month almost up, I still hadn't reached out.

Maybe I should text him an explanation?

I hesitated, and Mom, thinking I was upset by Violet's words, immediately laid down the law.

"He's your brother. If the Harringtons specifically invited him, he's going. If anyone's missing, or they think our family's falling apart, what happens to this engagement?"

Great. Time to face the big boss.

…

The night of the gala.

I was sipping water, trying to psych myself up to face Mr. Harrington, when I heard muffled cursing coming from the coatroom.

"Why are Mom and Dad suddenly defending Pete?! Why can't he just drop dead?! Both of those biased old bastards should die! Everything in this family should be mine! Sophia should be mine!"

Through the crack in the door, I saw Ryan waving scissors at the painting scroll we were supposed to give Mr. Harrington.

"Nobody gets to be happy!"

Snap.

The blade sliced through the scroll.

At that moment, he must've sensed something—he whipped his head around and locked eyes with me.

Before I could react, he came charging out, shoving the scissors into my hands.

"Pete! What are you doing?!"

Pointing at the ruined painting, Ryan screamed at the top of his lungs, "How could you destroy the gift for Mr. Harrington?! I know you're jealous, but that doesn't mean you can sabotage our whole family!"

Wow.

He was really trying to pin this whole mess on me.