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Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

Chapter 4 4

Word Count: 878 | Released on: 09/02/2026

arp. He held a tablet in one hand and a medical kit in the other

tes?" Marcu

cked. That was th

ng metallic. He scanned the area. The sculpture was knocked

ge of the sofa. He was shir

s approached

s with a heavyweight. His eyes were clearer than they ha

Kenan asked. His

tablet. "A bio-threat protocol you designed. It sealed the unit but blocke

ced. "I remember... noise. Th

meone. He remembered a voice, sharp and commanding. Look at me. A

. Wedged in the seam was a si

cked

hazy, like a dream recorded on a damaged tape. B

cus stiffened.

He dropped the hair. His face harde

hing down his neck. If word got out that he had a brea

rcus said. He tu

loop from last night was static. The storm in Kenan's brain had interfered with the local elect

" Marcus

vator. As he turned the

ce elevator. She was holding a trash bag, but she was

ge empty bottles to return for the deposi

y, it probably wasn't her. The woman Kenan described sounded competent, calm. This girl looked like a scavenger. But right now, he did

Marcu

the bag. Glass clinked. "I..

e loomed over her. "You we

't a qu

nsive suit. She saw the serious expression. She k

ance," Marcus said, his voice devoid of emotion. H

a digital Non-Disclosure Agreement

at the number

0,0

was more money than she

It makes the problem go away. For both of us.

here. But she looked at the money. She looked at Mar

fired for stealing bot

trembling finger. She

transferred. If you approach Mr. Cervantes, or the p

ffany squeake

blem solved. A cheap, convenient l

wer. He scrubbed his skin, trying to remember. The tactile memory

ed him: Handled.

ho saw a rich man vulnerable. The peace he had felt was pro

wel around his waist. He looked in the mirror. The man

Chapter End

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Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

Qing Shui Modern

“I was a disgraced heiress hiding as a dishwasher in a high-end club, scrubbing lipstick off glasses until my fingers went numb. One night, I was forced to deliver a bottle of vintage whiskey to the penthouse, only to find the tech billionaire Kenan Cervantes collapsing from a lethal neural storm. I used my surgeon's training to save his life, holding him in the dark until his fever finally broke. The next morning, the world I knew shattered. My coworker Tiffany, who hadn't even stepped foot in the room, claimed my identity as the savior. She signed a non-disclosure agreement and walked away with a $200,000 check, while I was accused of stealing the whiskey and had my entire month's wages forfeited as punishment. While Tiffany was flaunting Chanel suits and posting photos from his balcony, I was being shoved into the mud by my abusive foster father in a dark alley. I watched from the shadows as Kenan stepped into his luxury car, looking right through me with nothing but cold distaste. To him, I was just "street trash" cluttering the sidewalk, while the imposter was the "angel" who had stabilized his heart. The injustice felt like a physical weight. I had quieted the noise in his brain and kept him from the brink of death, yet I was the one facing eviction and hunger. I didn't understand how he could be a genius and still be so blind to the truth, rewarding a thief while I rotted in the basement. Everything reached a breaking point when Tiffany forced me to sneak into his penthouse to help her maintain the lie. But Kenan returned from Tokyo early, finding me on the terrace with his military-grade protection dog. The beast that had tried to bite Tiffany was now resting its head in my lap, protecting me from its own master. Kenan dropped his briefcase, his eyes locking onto mine as the fragmented memories of the storm finally clicked into place. "You," he whispered.”