Fake Heiress Real Fall Chapter 01
After searching for me for fifteen years, the first thing my father said when bringing me back to the military compound was:
“There’s an orphan of my old comrade at home. You need to go easy on her.”
The moment we stepped through the door, the fake heiress cursed me as a country bumpkin and shoved me down the steps, leaving my face smashed and bloody.
My father didn’t help me up; instead, he went to coax her first.
Everyone in the military compound said my biological brother was the most cold-blooded officer, yet he spoiled this fake sister as if she were his own flesh and blood.
I closed my eyes, waiting for him to kick me to death.
The military boot came down.
But the one sent flying by the kick was the fake heiress.
“How dare you bully my real sister! You’re getting the hell out of this house today!”
……
The car stopped at the gate of the military compound, and I got out carrying a faded woven bag.
The heavy straps dug a deep red mark into my rough palms.
Daniel Brooks walked ahead of me. This was my biological father. The Deputy Chief of Staff of the Military Command Base.
I was abducted and sold to the countryside for fifteen years, and he had searched for me for fifteen years.
But before we even entered the house, he stopped in his tracks.
“Evelyn Brooks, let me make a few things clear. There’s a girl at home named Stella Morgan, the orphan of my old comrade.”
“Her father took a bullet for me on the battlefield back then, and we couldn’t even bring his remains back. Stella grew up without a father. She’s frail and timid. You need to go easy on her.”
He paused and looked me up and down.
“Also, don’t bring those rough rural manners back here and scare her.”
I kept my head down, looking at the torn surplus combat boots on my feet.
I didn’t say a word.
This was the father I had waited fifteen years for.
He didn’t ask if I had enough to eat in the countryside, if I had been beaten, or if I had cried out for my dad in the middle of the night.
His very first words were to tell me to yield to an outsider.
He pushed open the courtyard door.
A girl wearing a white vintage tea dress with red flowers sat on a rattan chair in the shade, her legs crossed as she ate grapes.
I recognized that fabric.
It was the most expensive premium imported fabric in the store.
Even the village chief couldn’t bear to buy a single foot of it for his son’s wedding.
Hearing the noise, Stella glanced up at me.
Her gaze swept from my face down to my feet, pausing on those torn surplus combat boots for two seconds.
Then she spat the grape skin from her mouth right in front of me.
“Uncle Brooks, who is this? She reeks of pigsty slop. Is she here to collect the garbage?”
To my surprise, Daniel smiled.
It was that kind of coaxing, affectionate smile meant for a child.
“Stella, this is Evelyn. Dad just brought her back from the countryside. You two will be living together from now on, so get along well.”
The moment Daniel turned to go inside, Stella’s expression instantly changed.
She abruptly stood up from the rattan chair, marched up to me in a few strides, snatched my woven bag, and slammed it fiercely onto the ground.
“What Evelyn? The Brookses only have one daughter, and that’s me! What gives a country bumpkin like you the nerve to show up at our door!”
She shoved me hard on the shoulder.
I had been on a train for days and nights, starving and dizzy. Tripping over the threshold, I fell heavily onto the bluestone pavement.
My palms scraped against the ground, tearing off a large patch of skin.
Beads of blood oozed from my palms, bringing a piercing pain.
I looked up and saw Daniel.
He stood just three steps away.
He didn’t come over to help me up.
Instead, he grabbed Stella’s arm.
“Stella, don’t be angry. Don’t upset yourself, you have a weak heart…”
I lay on the ground, blood dripping down my fingers, falling drop by drop onto the bluestone pavement.
Suddenly, I found it all so ridiculous.
Fifteen years.
For fifteen years, I cried to the moon by a pigpen in the countryside, dreaming that one day my father would come to take me home.
I am finally back.
Yet the first person my father reached out to help wasn’t me.
A shrill brake scream cut through the air just outside the courtyard gate.
The car door was kicked open from the inside.
A man in a military uniform stepped out of the jeep and strode into the yard.
Jasper Brooks.
My biological brother.
The youngest battalion commander in the field army.
Before I came, the neighbors in the countryside had told me—your brother has a fierce temper; no one in the military compound dares to mess with him.
But he treats his fallen comrade’s orphan incredibly well, spoiling her like his own sister.
Watching him approach step by step, I instinctively closed my eyes, my teeth biting my lip until it bled.
Bring it on.
Scold me, beat me.
One more beating won’t make a difference anyway.
The footsteps stopped right in front of me.
I waited for two seconds.
No slap landed on my face.
A gust of wind swept over my head, followed by a muffled thud.
I opened my eyes.
Jasper raised his foot and kicked Stella in the stomach, swift and decisive, not a trace of hesitation.
Stella was sent flying backward.
Her back slammed into the rain barrel in the corner, cracking it open.
She curled up on the ground clutching her stomach, her face flushed red, mouth wide open as she gasped for air.
Jasper stood where he was, looking down at her, his voice bone-chillingly cold.
“You dared to touch my sister. Get the hell out of this house today.”
