I became my sister's stand-in

?
My sister smashed the necklace the CEO had given her.
Who needs your cheap stuff? Don't you dare insult me! I'm nothing like those gold-digging opportunists who cling to power!
Standing by, I crouched down to pick up the broken pieces.
The CEO kicked my outstretched hand.
Get her to wear it, and I'll pay for your dad's medical bills.
My sister glared at me.
"You're truly pathetic, Lena. So desperate for money and status, sucking up to rich people like this?"
But if I missed this chance, my dad's surgery costs would be completely out of reach.
I stubbornly held out the necklace to my sister.
She closed her eyes, a picture of haughty arrogance.
I didn't manage to get her to wear the necklace.
But the CEO still paid for Dad's medical expenses.
From that day on, both my sister and I were tied to Andre.
But we were worlds apart.
His blatant favoritism towards her was known to everyone.
And I was just the "gold digger" who shamelessly clung on.
Years later, my sister returned from studying abroad. I was currently held close in Andre's arms.
"Your sister is back."
I understood instantly.
"Right. I hope you and Tiffany will be happily ever after."
*****
Andre kissed my forehead in satisfaction.
"Such a good girl."
He leaned against the headboard, his gaze distant.
"If only your sister were as compliant as you."
A sharp, tearing pain spread through my chest.
I didn't reply, just quietly got up to get dressed.
Andre suddenly grabbed my wrist.
His grip was too strong, making me wince in pain.
"Aren't you going to say anything?"
"What should I say?"
I whispered.
He scoffed, letting go of my hand and falling back onto the bed.
"Before your sister left the country, she asked me to take good care of you."
My pupils constricted.
The ache in my heart became sharper, clearer.
The only reason I could stay by his side was because Tiffany, my sister, had granted it to me.
Of course. In Andre's eyes, I was just a replacement for her.
"Your sister is always like this. She's soft-hearted with everyone else, but always so cruel to me."
Andre's voice carried a hint of wistfulness and an undeniable fondness.
I tried to go to the bathroom, but he grabbed my hand again.
"Stay with me a little longer."
Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating his handsome profile.
I suddenly remembered the first time I saw him.
My sister had accidentally spilled hot coffee on his hand.
His hand was red and scalded, but he just smiled and said,
"It's okay, as long as you're not burned."
"Hmph, I wasn't going to apologize anyway. You rich people are all so arrogant and self-centered."
I was startled and wanted to apologize.
But Andre seemed even more interested.
"You hate me?"
"Yes, I hate spoiled rich kids like you who have nothing better to do all day."
My sister let out a soft huff and stomped her foot.
Andre just laughed.
I shrank behind my sister, watching the amusement and indulgence in his eyes.
Only one thought ran through my mind: he… he's actually a good person.
Later, I found out he had fallen for my sister at first sight.
And when he spoke of it, he didn't even remember I was standing right behind her.
My thoughts snapped back to the present.
I saw Andre.
He lit a cigarette and spoke.
"I've already arranged for your father's ongoing treatment."
"Thank you," I nodded.
"No need to be so polite."
He exhaled smoke.
Through the hazy smoke, his gaze fell on my face.
"If you want to thank anyone, thank your sister. I'm only willing to look after your family because of her."
…
The sound of running water filled the bathroom. I poured cold water over my head, trying to suppress the sobs rising in my throat.
When I came out, he was still there, which surprised me a little.
Andre leaned against the doorframe, fiddling with his phone.
"Tomorrow, I'm picking up your sister. Arrange my schedule for me."
"Okay."
He suddenly walked over, picked up a towel, and began to dry my hair.
His movements were clumsy, pulling at my scalp. It stung.
I closed my eyes, not struggling.
Noticing my furrowed brows, he finally softened his touch.
"Sorry, I've never done this before… I just wanted to learn, so I can dry your sister's hair later."
"It's fine. Just be a bit gentler, or Tiffany will get mad at you."
I said, forcing a smile.
He hummed softly, and his movements did indeed become much gentler.
The next day at the airport.
I followed Andre early in the morning to pick up my sister.
Tiffany emerged in a vibrant red dress, captivating and radiant.
Everyone's eyes were drawn to her.
Including Andre's, beside me.
He practically sprinted forward, taking her luggage.
"Are you tired?"
His tone was one I had never heard him use before—so gentle.
My sister gave a casual "Hmm," her gaze sweeping over the crowd and landing on me, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Lena, you came too?"
"Tiffany, long time no see."
I stepped forward to greet her, my smile polite but distant.
On the way back, my sister sat in the passenger seat.
Andre occasionally turned to chat and laugh with her.
He had never been so talkative with me.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly from the weather abroad to mundane daily gossip, trivial yet natural.
I sat in the back seat, like an invisible person who didn't exist at all.


?
Back at the house, my sister motioned for me to pick up her luggage and follow her.
I did as told.
When we reached her "princess room," she suddenly turned around and slapped me across the face.
"Lena Harvey, you are utterly pathetic."
"I was studying abroad, working on my career, and you were back here sleeping your way to the top. You, Lena, you're just as cheap as your mother."
Tiffany was my father's first wife's daughter.
A year after their divorce, my father met my mother through mutual friends.
They found each other suitable and started dating.
But Tiffany always believed my mother was a mistress.
Even though my mother tried to win her over, treating her better than she treated me, her own biological daughter.
But Tiffany was never satisfied.
She loved to humiliate me and my mother in front of others.
Calling my mother a mistress, and me, the mistress's daughter.
From a very young age, I suffered endless glares and humiliation because of these unfounded rumors.
All the bullying I endured at school came directly from Tiffany.
When Dad went to school to complain on my behalf, Tiffany would always retort:
"Dad, why does she get bullied while no one else does? Isn't it because there's something wrong with her?"
The stinging pain on my cheek pulled my thoughts back to the present.
"What, cat got your tongue?"
Tiffany looked down at me, condescendingly.
I still didn't say anything.
Over the years, I had long understood my situation.
I couldn't afford to upset Tiffany.
Otherwise, Andre would be displeased, and Dad's medical funds would disappear.
Tiffany wouldn't care whether Dad lived or died.
Seeing me still keeping my head down, she sneered.
She walked into her walk-in closet and began to rummage through her clothes.
"Here, iron this for me. Make sure it's perfectly pressed. I hate wrinkles."
I softly replied, "Okay," and exited the room.
In the hallway, I ran into the housekeeper.
Their gaze held a hint of sympathy and helplessness, but quickly shifted away.
After all, no one would look up to a materialistic "gold digger."
While ironing the dress, the steam accidentally burned my wrist.
A red blister immediately formed.
I stared at the red mark and suddenly remembered a time when Andre was drunk.
He had mistaken me for Tiffany.
He kept mumbling drunkenly, "Tiffany, don't leave."
His grip back then had also been painful, but I didn't push him away.
Sometimes, people are so greedy that they can't bear to expose even a fake affection.
Andre appeared then.
His gaze fell on my reddened wrist.
"What happened to your hand?"
"I accidentally burned it," I answered honestly.
He anxiously grabbed my wrist, carefully examining the red swollen area.
I was so startled I could barely breathe.
"Who told you to iron it?" His voice was suppressed, hiding something.
"Tiffany."
I still told the truth.
He smiled, letting go of my hand.
"She's still as bossy as ever."
I didn't reply.
He turned to leave but suddenly stopped.
"Hand over that project you're working on to your sister."
My eyes widened abruptly.
By the time I fully registered what he said, he was gone.
Why?
A project I had dedicated half a year to, working day and night, pouring countless efforts into—just like that, I was supposed to hand it over?
But I knew I had no right to refuse.
Tiffany and I, in Andre's eyes, were worlds apart.
Late that night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
I got out of bed, wanting to go out for some fresh air.
But I saw Andre in the living room.
He was sitting on the sofa, smoking. The moonlight outlined his profile.
"You're still awake?" He saw me and instinctively put out his cigarette.
"I got up to get some water."
He nodded in silence.
Then, as I turned to leave, he suddenly murmured to himself.
"I've waited so long, but now that she's back, I feel… it's just not the same."
My heart seemed to skip a beat.
I thought I had misheard him.
Andre looked up at me, his eyes filled with struggle.
"If… if I said I couldn't bear to let you go, would you think that was strange?"


?
That night's conversation, Andre and I both pretended it never happened.
Tiffany started working at Andre's company.
She immediately became my direct supervisor.
I took her around, familiarizing her with company procedures, but she just looked at me impatiently.
"This is boring. That's enough."
"But, there's still…" I tried to explain, but she cut me off.
"Isn't that what you're for? Don't you, my subordinate, have the ability to assist your superior's work?"
Tiffany rolled her eyes at me, then smiled again.
"Oh, right. All you're good for is pleasing men in bed."
The moment those words left her mouth, the office fell silent.
Everyone around us gasped, covering their mouths in shock and awkwardness.
But Tiffany still wasn't satisfied.
She walked closer, her heels clicking, looking down at me.
"What? Haven't you told your colleagues that your mother was a home-wrecker? You and your mother, you're two peas in a pod."
"My mother isn't a mistress," I retorted, meeting her gaze.
She covered her mouth and scoffed.
"You're still denying it? Right, people like you are so shameless."
…
The spectacle quickly spread throughout the company.
After work, Andre called me to his office.
His office was also filled with some of his friends.
They all looked at me with mocking expressions.
I thought Andre would issue a public statement to stop the rumors.
But he only said:
"You shouldn't have made your sister angry."
I bit my lip, trying hard to hold back tears.
Andre continued,
"Your sister has been very good to you. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't even have had money for college — Lena, you need to be grateful."
I looked up, my eyes red-rimmed.
Yes, I knew.
If it weren't for Tiffany, we wouldn't have received financial support from Andre's family.
Dad would have died long ago from lack of medical funds.
And I would have dropped out of school early due to poverty.
Now, Andre's lecture was just to make sure I didn't resent Tiffany.
As I left the office, I could still hear the laughter inside.
"Oh, Andre, you're really ruthless. She's such a delicate beauty, how could you be so harsh?"
"Yeah, aren't you afraid you'll actually scare her off?"
"Even though Lena is more soft-willed and has no bottom line compared to her sister, she really is so obedient to you."
Andre replied nonchalantly.
"She's nothing like Tiffany. They're like night and day, really."
"If she didn't look so much like Tiffany, why would I even keep her around?"
At those words, another burst of laughter erupted.
I quickened my pace, escaping in a hurry.
That project was ultimately given to Tiffany by Andre.
Tiffany just signed her name at the end, and all the credit went to her.
She instantly became a rising star in the industry.
When people spoke of her as an industry new star, they couldn't help but mention me.
"These two sisters, one is a daring and ambitious woman, and the other is just a clinging vine who attaches herself to power."
"Lena Harvey just rode on her sister's coattails and isn't even grateful."
The rumors, like vines, tightly wrapped around my neck, constricting more and more.
At the celebration banquet.
Tiffany was surrounded by people.
She held a champagne glass, smiling radiantly.
Someone raised a toast in praise.
"Ms. Williams is truly capable! Our CEO is so lucky to have such a brilliant and capable partner by his side."
Andre smiled in response.
But his gaze unconsciously swept over the crowd and met mine.
I smiled at him and turned to leave.
I didn't see his tightly furrowed brows after I left.
I moved through the banquet like a transparent person.
Tiffany was a born leading lady; even stolen credit she could explain away eloquently and righteously.
As for me, I didn't even have the right to defend myself.
Tiffany's reputation soared.
Andre's family elders softened their stance, stating that as long as Tiffany performed well in the next quarter, she would be allowed to join the family.
Upon hearing this, Tiffany put on a proud and aloof act, as if deeply insulted.
"Do you think I should be happy? What's so great about you? You just have better luck than me."
"I won't exert myself to please you just to get into the Morley family."
"I study hard, I work hard, it's all for myself, and has nothing to do with anyone else."
Her words left Andre's family elders with pale faces, completely speechless.
Andre quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
His eyes were full of admiration for Tiffany.
"Tiffany is just like that, real and unpretentious. Grandpa, please don't take it to heart."
I stood by, watching the scene, finding it utterly absurd.
?
From then on, Tiffany thrived like a fish in water.
Andre indulged her every whim.
Tiffany never hid her dislike for me.
She deliberately transferred me to a peripheral department, where I handled insignificant chores every day.
People who used to work closely with me gradually distanced themselves.
I didn't care about any of this; I just quietly worked, trying to earn as much as I could.
Dad's recovery was going very well.
I planned to take him away from this city once he was discharged from the hospital.
The prerequisite was having enough money.
Tiffany didn't remain smug for long.
Andre had spoiled her, making her too self-confident and a bit too impatient for quick results.
On an overseas project, Tiffany, in her pursuit of speed, skipped the risk assessment and signed the contract directly.
As a result, Andre's company not only had to freeze hundreds of millions in initial investment but also had to pay double the penalty for breach of contract.
When the news reached the company, the entire conference room fell silent.
I sighed.
I had warned Tiffany to do a risk assessment.
But she had scoffed at the time, "What I choose to do is none of your business."
That day, Andre called me into his office.
He looked at me, silent for a long time.
I had probably already guessed what he was going to say.
I smiled and spoke first, "I understand what you mean."
He nodded.
"Everyone is watching. Someone has to step up and take responsibility for this."
I said nothing more.
Andre paused, carefully choosing his words.
"Tiffany lacks experience; it's inevitable she'd make mistakes. And you, as her subordinate, didn't properly advise her, which is your fault to begin with."
"She looks strong, but she's really just a little girl who cries a lot. If people start pointing fingers and blaming her, I'm afraid she…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but I understood.
I looked up, "Okay."
Consider it repayment for his kindness.
Andre nodded in satisfaction, pulled a document from his drawer, and placed it in front of me.
"This is a statement. It specifies that you concealed risk data during the follow-up, which led to the project failure."
I hadn't hesitated at first, but at the crucial moment, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of doubt.
Concealing risk data, what a serious charge.
If the company pursued legal action, I could go to jail.
He sighed, speaking casually.
"I won't let you go to jail, don't worry."
I laughed.
My laughter echoed in the office, sounding particularly ironic.
"Alright."
I lowered my head, signing my name with careful strokes.
As soon as I walked out of the office, I ran straight into Tiffany.
Her face was a bit haggard, but her makeup was flawless.
"You shouldn't feel like it's unfair. If you hadn't deliberately neglected to warn me, I wouldn't have made such a huge mistake."
I ignored her, walking straight past her.
I pulled my clothes tighter. The air conditioning made me shiver.
My phone vibrated then—a call from the hospital.
"Ms. Harvey, your father is doing very well. He can be discharged next week."
"Okay, thank you."
I stumbled into the stairwell, crouched down, covered my face, and cried, trying to muffle the sound.
I submitted my resignation to the company that day.
HR was a bit surprised.
"But Mr. Morley didn't say he was firing you."
"This is what he wants."
Seeing my reply, HR didn't say anything more.
After all, everyone knew I had "made a big mistake."
Andre found out about my resignation a few days later.
At the time, I was at the hospital, accompanying my father.
Andre called.
"I didn't tell you to resign."
"This is the best solution," I replied.
He fell silent on the other end.
After a long pause, he spoke again.
"Alright, you can lay low for a while. Once this blows over, I'll transfer you to another position."
"No need to trouble yourself."
I was very polite.
Andre caught the hint of distance in my tone.
He sounded displeased.
"Are you blaming me?"
"No, Mr. Morley. You've been kind to me. If anything, I should be thanking you. Why would I blame you?"
I felt a little weak.
Everything that had happened recently had truly exhausted me.
"I owe you nothing. From now on, we're even."
The sun shone down, warm and comforting.
In the distance, car horns blared.
I left the hospital with my father, heading for the airport, ready to start a new life.

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