Intertwined Destinies: The Real and Fake Daughter

I thought I was the main character, a wealthy lady whose luck had been taken away, found by my parents after ten years. But this time, until the end of the story, I gave up the cheat system and willingly became a supporting actress.

My name is Vivian Walker.

When I was sixteen, a female housekeeper took me to Tanelle to live. She took care of me until I was eighteen.

My comingofage gift was a lame stray cat. I named it Freya.

I hoped our days would be lucky and everything would go smoothly.

Every day, I took Freya out for a walk in the park.

That day, everything seemed normal. After I bought breakfast while holding Freya, I found that the road was full of cars. The license plates were all from Dawson. I was stunned. A strong sense of foreboding came over me.

I instinctively held Freya tighter and hurried home.

As soon as I got downstairs, I saw a group of people standing at the front door. Tanelle is a seaside city. In the hot weather, they were all dressed in suits and looked glamorous.

The most striking was a young man.

In the bright sunlight, he stood tall. His slim figure exuded an elegant grace.

I recognized him at a glance. He was Dylan Jones, my biological brother.

After a reminder from someone nearby, he casually looked up at me.

Dylan walked towards me and stopped not far away. He quietly stared at me, seeming unsure how to speak. His brow furrowed slightly in indecision.

I took a step to the left. He followed. A step to the right. He repeated.

I asked, "Are you trying to kidnap me in broad daylight?"

Dylan's eyes flickered. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, I know. Aren't you Dylan Jones, the famous heir of the Jones Group?" I stated expressionlessly.

Dylan was stunned for a moment. "Then you know..."

Seeing his discomfort, I spoke calmly.

"You came for Isaac, right? Why? Your match didn't succeed?"

Isaac Jones was the chairman of the Jones Group and the father of Dylan and me. A month ago, news of his kidney failure spread online. Even I, living in an obscure place, heard about it.

So I wasn't surprised by Dylan's arrival.

After I exposed his intentions, Dylan turned his head and cleared his throat. "Isla, the matter of that year have already..."

"Mr. Jones, my name is Vivian, not Isla. Don't mistake me for someone else."

Dylan was stunned, staring at me blankly.

I smiled. "Mr. Jones, please step aside."

Probably wanting to preserve his dignity, Dylan didn't follow.

Looking out the window, I saw him get a call and hurriedly get into his car and leave.

It was probably because Isaac's condition had worsened again.

Watching the car gradually disappear from view, a strange feeling stirred in my heart. I couldn't tell if it was relief or freedom.

2

I had no feelings for the Jones family.

Ten years ago, when I found out I wasn't Isaac's biological daughter, I only felt relieved.

The world in front of me became blurry, but the memories became clear.

A sigh seemed to pass through the layers of time, awakening something again.

My mom frowned angrily and said, "Haven't you played this piece many times? Why can't you still get it? Lydia can play it."

The girl, Lydia Lewis, standing by the piano, was sweet and clever. She had big, bright eyes. She was the daughter of a doctor.

Lydia never got shy when praised and smiled, saying, "It's because you teach well."

Lydia was neither humble nor arrogant. She was about my age but much better at everything.

She actually seemed more like the Jones family's pampered eldest daughter than I did.

In the sixteen years I lived with the Jones family, I always looked up to Dylan.

With Dylan, the genius, ahead of me, I was expected to be just as exceptional when I was born five years after him.

The elders all hoped I would be a prodigy like Dylan.

But I was timid and shy. At my tenth birthday party, I stuttered just trying to speak.

They said we came from the same family but were different. I was not that clever.

Whenever that happened, Dylan would just look at me quietly. His eyes were devoid of emotion.

As I grew older, my parents started showing me disappointed looks more and more often.

On my sixteenth birthday, someone said Lydia looked very much like my mother.

It was weird. Lydia was only half a day younger than me. I was born in the morning, and she was in the afternoon.

This timing became a point of suspicion.

Mother's hand slowly traced Lydia's face, outlining her features.

Her movements were cautious as if handling a rare treasure.

I stood on the outer edge of the crowd watching them.

The princess dress I wore suddenly felt like vines wrapping around me, tightening and suffocating me.

The guests whispered among themselves, turning to look me up and down.

Their gazes were mixed with either pity or ridicule, all weighing down on me.

Lydia buried her head in my mother's arms. She rarely showed such vulnerability, let alone cried in front of so many people.

Just then, Lydia's father, Ian Lewis, the Jones family doctor, suddenly knelt.

He revealed a truth that had been hidden for sixteen years.

It turned out I wasn't the biological daughter of the Jones family. Lydia was.

She was the true eldest daughter of the Jones family. I was just a fake who had stolen sixteen years of her life.

After the DNA results came out, the Jones family took Lydia on a trip to Malachi.

I looked at the bandaid on my hand and stayed silent for a whole day.

Until dusk, when the bright clouds and colors intertwined like a painter's palette.

I left the Jones residence quietly and unnoticed.

3

As night fell, the city's edges blurred. The stars and countless lights lit up.

After cooking dinner, I took out my phone to watch a variety show and found 68 missed calls. It was all from Dawson.

They were from Dylan, and there was a text message.

He said he would come to my place at 10 a.m. tomorrow to talk.

I knew why Dylan was coming. He wanted to tell me the socalled truth, get my forgiveness, and ideally have me donate a kidney.

That would be the perfect ending for everyone.

But I wasn't Isla. I was Vivian.

Neither Isla nor Vivian owed them anything.

At 10 a.m. the next morning, Dylan knocked on my door right on time.

I looked at him through the security door.

In the hallway, light spots from the window fell on Dylan's shoulder. He stayed silent for a long time before speaking.

"Isla, can we talk?"

I nodded but didn't open the door. "Let's talk like this."

Dylan took a deep breath. He lowered his gaze, and his voice was hoarse.

"Back then, Ian had cancer. He spread rumors that Lydia looked like Mom to give her a better life. Then he somehow got your blood. He swapped it, and let Lydia take your place.

"Isla, you are their biological daughter and my sister."

Dylan finished speaking and looked up at me. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

I met his gaze and said calmly, "I knew long ago that the blood Lydia took for testing was mine because she deliberately scratched my finger. I didn't say anything."

Seeing his surprised expression, I continued.

"That night, if any of you had looked at me a few more times, I would have exposed their lies. But no one did. In your eyes, I was already unworthy of the Jones name.

"So I go by Vivian Walker. Mr. Jones, please remember that."

3

Everyone fell silent.

Freya suddenly rubbed her head against my pant leg, occasionally looking up at me.

She seemed to say, "I want to go out and play."

But Dylan was standing at the door. How could I take her out? I bent down to pick up Freya and comforted her while waiting for Dylan's response.

Time passed slowly in this tense situation.

Dylan laughed softly and said, "So you knew all along..."

His voice had a tone of helplessness, probably not expecting that I had allowed all this.

"So, there's nothing to talk about. I don't hate you all, and that's it."

After saying that, I prepared to close the door and ignore him.

Dylan panicked. "I didn't come with any other intentions. Mom and Dad just want to see you. It's not what you think."

I looked at him amusingly. "What do you think I'm thinking?"

Dylan was stunned. After realizing, he hurriedly tried to explain, but I didn't want to listen anymore. Or maybe it was just too late.

I stopped smiling. I turned around impatiently and kicked the door shut with a bang. It returned to silence, and Freya jumped out of my arms.

She was already ten years old. Her steps were a bit slow, no longer as energetic as she used to be.

I squatted down and called her name, but she ignored me and lay on the balcony to nap.

I thought that would be the end of it. The Jones family were respectable people and knew when to back off.

However, I was sunbathing on the balcony at 3 PM.

Looking down, I saw Dylan getting out of a car with many people behind him. They were carrying furniture and luggage. It looked like Dylan wasn't giving up and was moving into the building.

Coincidentally, my neighbor across the hall was renting out their apartment these days.

I wondered how difficult it must have been to find a matching kidney for Isaac. They just had to come after me.

Dylan quickly came upstairs. A few minutes later, as expected, there was a knock on the door.

He knew I was home, and I knew he was outside.

So when I didn't open the door, Dylan straightforwardly said, "Vivian, I bought your favorite cherries and strawberries. They're by the door."

The old house had poor sound insulation, so his voice clearly reached my ears. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

I jumped up from the recliner. I didn't even put on my shoes and opened the door.

Dylan looked at me with a surprised expression.

I gave a polite smile. "Mr. Jones, if you had investigated more, you would know I'm allergic to cherries and strawberries. Do you think I'd like them?"

Dylan opened his mouth but said nothing. He hid the fruit behind him, probably out of guilt.

Seeing him like this, I turned around to go home.

Dylan grabbed my wrist from behind and looked at me gently. "Sorry, Ms. Walker. It was our mistake."

He handed me a key and continued, "This is the key to my room. Dad and Mom just want to see you. If you change your mind, you can come find me..."

I shook my head. I brushed his hand away and went home.

4

Strawberries and cherries were Lydia's favorite fruits. I was indifferent and didn't care what I ate.

When I finished piano practice as a child, the nanny would ask me what fruit I wanted. Lydia would smile and say strawberries and cherries.

I didn't argue. I didn't expect Dylan would bring these today. It would've been better if he hadn't.

Freya stretched lazily in my arms and then turned over to continue sleeping.

An idea suddenly came to mind.

I wondered if Lydia regretted taking my place now.

But I didn't regret it. After leaving, my life became bright and easy. I finished high school and college step by step and opened a flower shop in Tanelle after graduation.

I worked from sunrise to sunset.

I was very satisfied with my life, but life always liked to play tricks on me.

Half a month ago, news of Isaac's severe illness spread online. What I feared most had happened.

The Jones family discovered Lydia's true identity, reversing the switchedatbirth story again.

Seeing Dylan's attitude today, I realized the Jones family wouldn't give up easily. They were powerful, and I was alone.

If they were more forceful and took me away, I couldn't do anything. But fortunately, the organ donation consent form needed my signature. This was probably my last bargaining chip.

After feeding Freya cat food, I went to bed on time.

But with worries on my mind, I tossed and turned all night.

At nine the next morning, I packed Freya in a cat bag and prepared to go to the shop.

I had taken a day off yesterday because of Dylan, so I had to go today.

When I went out, I noticed the door across the hall had been open, with a bento box on a simple table.

A glance into the living room showed it was simple and clear, very much Dylan's style.

Seeing me come out, he took a long stride and walked up to me.

"I found out this is your favorite breakfast."

This time, he did put some thought into it.

I smiled at him. "Mr. Jones, haven't you heard a saying?"

Dylan's eyes flickered.

I said slowly, "Late affection is cheaper than grass, and so is family love."

I brushed his hand away again and went downstairs with Freya.

5

Even so, Dylan didn't give up.

There were always tables and chairs outside my flower shop for customers or passersby to rest. But today, Dylan sat there working.

He bought many bouquets from the shop, so I had no reason to drive him away.

I could only sulkily hold Freya, watch TV, and arrange flowers.

The flower shop usually had four parttime workers. There were three girls and one boy, all students from Forensic University.

The boy on duty today was named Rowan Clark, standing by the front desk. He glanced back and forth between Dylan and me.

"Ms. Walker, are you going to..."

"Shh!"

I made a shushing gesture and looked at Dylan.

He didn't look at me, just casually pointed in a few directions with his finger. I then noticed that there were many bodyguards around.

No matter where I went, I would be followed. I instantly felt disappointed, unable to muster any energy.

Rowan ran over and asked me, "Ms. Walker, what is your relationship with that man outside?"

It's true that human joys and sorrows do not interconnect. I was filled with grief and indignation, while he just wanted to gossip.

I sighed and didn't reply.

Rowan, who studied acting, imagined a whole drama in his head.

He pulled me to stand in front of Dylan. "I'm her current boyfriend. Please stop harassing her."

His tone was full of emotion and righteousness.

Dylan smiled. He closed his notebook and extended his left hand to Rowan. "Hello, I'm Vivian's biological brother."

Rowan stiffly turned his neck to look at me. I forced a smile while freeing my hand from his grip.

Now both Rowan and I sighed.

Rowan looked at me with a sorrowful expression. "Ms. Walker, did you have a fight with your brother?"

"Really, how can a guy be so interested in gossip?"

"Rowan, do you know why a person can live so long?" I stared intently into his eyes.

Rowan smiled innocently. "I know. Because it doesn't care about..."

Watching his cheerful smile gradually disappear, I laughed in exasperation.

"Alright, alright! Get back to work and stop worrying about irrelevant things."

I waved him off and lowered my head to start wrapping a bouquet.

Dylan was more patient than I expected. This further proved how serious Isaac's condition was.

How could I get Dylan to give up?

While I was thinking, Rowan came in from outside, pouting and looking unhappy.

"Ms. Walker, did your family arrange a blind date for you? Are they here to take you back?"

I was speechless. What scenario was he imagining now?

Dylan wasn't here to take me back. He was clearly here to take my kidney.

Rowan said, "Ms. Walker? Ms. Walker?" He waved his hand in front of my face.

Annoyed, I said, "Fine, whatever you say."

Rowan's face immediately scrunched up. He pouted, looking unhappy.

I didn't want to deal with him. I continued thinking about how to get rid of Dylan.

After a while, Rowan brought a small stool and sat in front of me.

"Ms. Walker, why don't you tell your brother you have a boyfriend? That way, they won't take you away."

I said helplessly, "Where am I supposed to find a boyfriend now?"

Rowan leaned closer to me with a faint scent of orange.

"Isn't there one right here?"

6

Rowan's idea was simple. Let him pretend to be my boyfriend to deter Dylan.

I found it ridiculous and immediately refused, but Rowan became even more persistent.

"Didn't you say you liked a girl before? Now you want to pretend to be my boyfriend? Aren't you afraid she'll be mad? Besides, I don't need a fake boyfriend!"

Facing my anger, Rowan lowered his head. His voice sounded particularly hoarse. "Have you really never known that the person I like is you?"

After he finished speaking, he looked up and quietly watched me. His eyes were full of hidden emotions.

Hearing this, I felt a headache coming on.

"Let's close early today," I said.

After tidying up the shop, I took Freya home.

Rowan and Dylan followed me, one on each side, like two debt collectors. Strangely, they seemed to be getting along well.

I saw Dylan giving Rowan a gentle smile as we passed a corner.

When we reached the entrance, Rowan stopped following. Dylan quickly approached me and asked, "Is he your boyfriend?"

"What if he is? What if he isn't?" I said.

"I shouldn't interfere in your personal life, but this guy isn't right for you. He's scheming. Be careful," he said.

His evaluation of Rowan was unfriendly. I was a bit puzzled.

It was evening, and the golden sunlight brushed his eyelashes, making his eyes look dazzling yet cold.

Suddenly, I remembered a Jones family gathering from a few years ago.

I couldn't recall Dylan's exact age that year.

The main guest at the banquet was an overseas supplier, and his daughter loved sweets.

Dylan followed his father's arrangement. Although he usually didn't like sweets, he ate two plates of cake to make the little girl happy.

The girl was supposed to be accompanied by me. But because of my timidity, Dylan took over.

At that time, I saw the same cold look in Dylan's eyes as I did today.

But for someone like him to care about my personal life, it seemed Isaac really couldn't find a suitable kidney.

"Mr. Jones, I advise you to stop wasting your time here and look for other opportunities," I said.

"Dad and Mom just want to see you. They don't mean to ask you to donate a kidney. You don't need to worry about that," he said.

"What's the point of meeting? Back then, I chose not to be part of the Jones family," I asked.

Dylan, seemingly prepared for this, gave a light "hmm" and had no other reaction.

Since he was like this, I couldn't say much more. I just held Freya and went home.

7

The situation was one coming after another.

Faced with Rowan's sudden confession, I felt uneasy. My intuition told me something was wrong, but I couldn't pinpoint what.

I wanted to persuade Rowan to quit, but he said, "Is it wrong to like someone? Should I be fired for confessing to you? Even if I leave, I won't give up on you," he said.

His words were too righteous. I couldn't argue back.

I remembered he was the only staff member left on duty. I had to keep him and deal with it later.

Rowan, however, pushed his luck. Early in the morning, just as I opened the shop, he stood at the door grinning.

Behind him was Dylan, with his long eyebrows furrowed, wearing goldrimmed glasses. He looked inscrutable.

Seeing them like this, I felt like a piece of meat being chased to be shared.

I walked slowly down the street with Freya while Rowan and Dylan followed on either side.

The distance was just right for me to hear Rowan's voice.

"Mr. Jones, when do you plan to return to Dawson?"

I immediately perked up my ears.

"In a while," Dylan said.

"There are some nice islands around here in Tanelle. If you don't mind, I can show you around," Rowan said, sounding oddly sycophantic.