Chapter 1: The Imposter's Return
I never expected my life to end over a bowl of bird's nest soup.
"Ava, sit down."
Mother's voice was unusually soft, like the calm before a storm. The table was set like any other evening—polished cutlery, soft lighting, a mild scent of jasmine tea in the air—but something felt off. The housekeeper wouldn't meet my eyes. Father was unusually quiet, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass.
And beside them stood a girl. Pale skin. Brown curls like mine. Wearing a white silk dress that glistened under the chandelier like moonlight caught in a net.
"Who is she?" I asked, setting down my spoon.
Mother and Father exchanged a look. That kind of look. The one they used to give when I failed to act "presentable" at society banquets. Like I was about to be punished again for a mistake I didn't know I'd made.
"This is Lily," Mother said, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "She's... the real Ava Dawson."
The world didn't freeze. It flipped. Then cracked.
"Excuse me?" I blinked. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Father cleared his throat, still not meeting my eyes. "There was a mix-up at the hospital. Eighteen years ago. We just found out through... recent DNA testing."
My throat tightened.
"You're saying I'm not your daughter?"
Silence.
"You're not even denying it," I whispered.
"She is," Mother said gently, gesturing to the girl. "Lily is our biological daughter. We just reunited with her."
And just like that, the floor beneath me shattered. The cutlery clinked as my trembling hand knocked my spoon off the plate. My heartbeat echoed so loud I couldn't hear anything else. Not the wind outside. Not the soft classical music humming in the background.
Only Lily's voice.
"I've always wondered what it'd be like," she said quietly. "Meeting the person who lived my life."
Her life.
My life.
The life I had lived with them—the birthdays, the punishments, the dance recitals, the nights crying on the bathroom floor when no one came to check on me—all of it, they were saying, belonged to her.
Like I was a placeholder. An imposter in someone else's fairy tale.
"You're kicking me out," I said, not as a question, but a realization. "Aren't you?"
"Don't make this difficult, Ava," Father said, and for the first time in my life, I saw the steel in his gaze. "You'll be compensated. We'll make sure you're comfortable."
"You're replacing me with her."
"She's our real daughter."
"I'm the one who called you Father for eighteen years!" I screamed, my voice breaking like glass. "I cleaned your vomit when you were drunk! I sat with Mother through her panic attacks! I was the one—"
"You were always a little different," Mother cut in. "You didn't... fit. But we were grateful. You kept Lily's place warm."
My jaw dropped. "I'm not a coat hanger!"
"Don't be ungrateful, Ava." Mother's smile was tight. "You lived well. Private school, elite tutors, luxury vacations. We treated you as our own even though... well, you weren't."
I stared at them both. The betrayal. The audacity. The finality.
"I'm still your daughter in every way that matters."
"You were," Father said, finally standing. "Until now."
---
By sundown, my room was empty. My belongings shoved into black plastic trash bags like discarded leftovers. Not even boxes. Not even dignity.
The housekeeper who used to braid my hair looked away as she handed me the bags.
"I'm sorry, Miss... Ava."
Just Ava now.
The gates to the Dawson mansion slammed shut behind me with the hiss of hydraulic locks. I stood on the front steps in my nightgown and designer slippers, holding the weight of a life that no longer belonged to me.
No car. No driver. No goodbye.
It started to rain. I stood there, frozen, until the water soaked through the silk and I felt more like paper than flesh.
I tried calling my best friend, Claire.
Voicemail.
I tried my fiancé, Daniel.
Blocked.
My hands trembled as I opened my messages. All my group chats had removed me. No one responded. Not even a single "what happened?"
My phone buzzed.
Daniel:
> Please stop contacting me. Lily and I are getting engaged. Don't make this harder than it is.
She took my family. She took my place. And now she's taking him too.
My stomach twisted violently. I dropped onto a bench at the park two blocks away, shivering under the cold wind. The designer slippers offered no warmth. My gown clung to me like second skin, soaked and heavy.
That's when the final nail hit the coffin.
Claire:
> You were never one of us, Ava. Everyone just tolerated you. Don't embarrass yourself by clinging now.
Tears blurred my vision. I squeezed my phone until the screen cracked. The battery died at 2%.
Alone.
No family. No home. No love.
Only betrayal.
---
Midnight.
I sat under a flickering streetlamp near the empty bus stop, hugging my knees. I hadn't cried yet. Maybe I couldn't. Maybe the shock hadn't worn off.
Then I saw the headlights.
A sleek black Maybach slowed down beside me. The tinted window rolled down. For a moment, I expected some rich stranger asking for directions—or worse, offering charity.
But then I saw him.
Sharp jawline. Stormy gray eyes. Clean-cut in a charcoal suit. Cold aura, the kind that turned heads without needing to speak.
Lucian Grant.
A name I hadn't heard in three years. But a face I could never forget.
"You promised to marry me," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
"Three years ago. You said if I lived, you'd marry me."
The memory rushed in like a tidal wave.
A car crash. A bleeding man. Me dragging him out of the wreckage. I was seventeen. He was unconscious. His phone was locked, his ID unreadable, and all I could do was wait for the ambulance and keep pressure on his wounds.
I remembered leaning over his broken body, whispering desperately, "Don't die on me. If you survive, I'll marry you myself."
I didn't know he heard it.
I didn't know he remembered.
"You were that man," I whispered, standing slowly. "But you—who are you?"
"Lucian Grant." He stepped out of the car. The night bowed around him. Even the wind seemed to pause. "CEO of Grant Corporation."
My throat dried.
That's when the thunder clapped. Not from the sky—but from inside me.
The Grant Corporation.
That was the name of the conglomerate I had once written a school report on. A trillion-dollar family-run empire known for its secrecy. Unreachable. Untouchable.
Lucian stepped closer. "I've been looking for you."
"Why?"
"Because I never forget promises," he said, voice like gravel wrapped in silk. "And because you've just been kicked out of a house that was never yours to begin with."
"How do you know that?"
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a file.
My name.
My blood type.
My birth certificate.
The Grant seal.
"You're not Ava Dawson," he said. "You're Ava Grant. My cousin. The real heiress to the Grant empire."
I stumbled back.
"No... that's not possible."
"Your records were buried. Someone wanted to hide you from us. But I never stopped searching."
My head spun. First, I lost everything. Now he was saying I was worth more than I ever imagined?
"You're lying," I whispered. "This is insane."
Lucian tilted his head. "You want proof?"
"I want... I want to wake up."
"I can give you something better than dreams," he said, voice low. "I can give you your life back."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"I don't want anyone's pity."
"This isn't pity, Ava. This is reclaiming what's yours. You're not some discarded girl on a park bench. You're blood of the Grants. And I've come to collect what you owe me."
I took a step back. "What do I owe you?"
He smiled—and the air felt colder.
"My wife."
---
[End of Chapter 1]