CHAPTER 493: HARD TO TELL THE REAL FROM THE FAKE

Joe erupted in fury. "Logan, what the hell do you mean by this? Are you just hell-bent on throwing mud at my daughter?!"

Logan didn’t even bother acknowledging Joe. His gaze slid lazily to the impostor.

"No plastic surgery, huh?"

The impostor’s voice quivered with wounded innocence. "Logan, if I really wanted to surgically alter myself to look like Selina, it wouldn’t be something I could finish overnight. Why would I even pretend to be Selina? I’m not insane."

Logan gave a cool nod, his expression unreadable, and shot Jack a look. Jack caught it instantly and leaned in to quietly give an order.

Meanwhile, the impostor kept scrambling to defend herself. "I can swear to you, there’s only one person in this world with this face—and it’s me. Even if someone out there looked like me, they’d be the one who got surgery..."

"Oh, really?" Logan’s voice was a razor-sharp whisper. "Then why don’t we have Mrs. Reid here and me both take a little test—find out which one of us is the one who’s been altered?"

Suddenly—

The heavy doors of the conference room burst open with a deafening bang.

A clear, steady female voice rang out, each syllable like a gavel striking wood.

Everyone froze.

Every pair of eyes swung toward the doorway.

And then, the room went dead silent. People stared, slack-jawed, as if they’d stepped into a hallucination.

Because standing there... was another Mrs. Reid.

The woman who walked in looked exactly like Selina.

Exactly.

Could there really be two people in the world who looked like this?

The impostor’s pupils shrank to pinpoints. Her face twitched with raw terror.

What’s happening? What’s happening— That’s Selina?!

Selina couldn’t possibly be here. She couldn’t—

And her face!

Jacob had sworn Selina’s face could never be restored.

No. No. No.

She couldn’t be exposed—

The impostor’s voice cracked as she blurted, "You’re—"

"Selina."

Logan’s eyes widened, surprise flashing for just three seconds before the realization hit him.

—She’d taken the drug.

To restore her face.

To help him.

His Selina had swallowed a pill with unknown side effects, just to stand here now.

Logan strode forward and gripped her hand, his gaze flooding with something raw and aching: I could’ve handled this on my own—why did you risk it?

Selina’s eyes met his, steady and sure: Because I wanted to help you.

The room erupted in whispers.

This woman—the one who had just walked in—this was Mrs. Reid?

Then the Mrs. Reid who’d been standing there all along...

The one who’d been sobbing, accusing, playing the victim...

Who was she?

Viewers online went into a frenzy, desperate to tell who was real, who was fake.

But inside the room, the answer was painfully obvious.

The newcomer’s presence hit like a tidal wave—calm, poised, utterly unflinching.

The "Mrs. Reid" from before now looked like she was cracking apart—her face twitching, her eyes filled with venom as her careful script unraveled.

Almost instantly, paid trolls flooded the live chat, scrambling to spin it:

She’s fake! This is Logan’s trick! The woman who just walked in must be some surgery monster!

Inside the room, Amelia latched onto the same narrative, snapping sharply, "Logan, don’t think you can wriggle out of this by dragging some woman in here and calling her Selina! The one next to you is the imposter—we can all see with our own eyes!"

Joe froze for just a second.

Then his eyes met Selina’s.

Her gaze was cool, sharp, cold enough to cut.

Something inside him flinched.

This is Selina.

This was Selina.

Wasn’t it?

Could it be... he’d gotten it wrong again?

A wave of cold dread swept over Joe’s body.

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

"Joe," Hannah’s voice cut in smoothly, dripping false concern. "Selina’s crying. Look."

Joe snapped out of it, instinctively turning back to look at "Selina."

His "daughter" was crying.

Yes—yes, this was his daughter!

He couldn’t face the possibility he’d mistaken her again—he wouldn’t.

Better to cling to the lie. Better to ride this all the way down.

Joe’s face hardened with righteous anger.

"Logan, you’ve already betrayed my daughter, and I haven’t even held you accountable for that yet—and now you bring in some imposter to replace her? What the hell are you trying to pull?!"

He swung his arm, pointing like a judge striking his gavel.

"The woman standing beside me is the real Selina! That one next to you—she’s the fake! Don’t believe a word she says!"

And then, with a father’s wounded conviction, Joe turned to the impostor and declared, "Selina, don’t you worry—Dad is on your side."

Logan couldn’t be bothered to waste words on fools.

It was Selina who spoke instead, her voice cool but edged with meaning.

"Director Morris, are you sure this is your daughter?"

A flicker of guilt flashed in Joe’s eyes, but for the sake of pride, he bit down hard and said, "Yes!"

Amelia’s composure wavered, her voice sharp and flustered.

"You imposter, enough already! Selina’s entire family says you’re fake—what else is there to argue about?"

Just then, a voice from the doorway called in, "Mr. Reid, Mr. Aiden is here to see you. He says he’s brought evidence—should we let him in?"

Selina’s brow arched slightly. Aiden?

The tension in the room instantly sharpened. Everyone thought the same thing—this was getting more and more interesting.

Two Selinas. Which one’s the real one?

The livestream numbers skyrocketed as netizens swarmed in to watch the drama, gasping at the sight of two identical women.

Right then, the impostor’s phone buzzed. Her eyes lit up.

"Dad, Second Brother just texted me. He says he’ll stand by me—he’s coming to expose the imposter and throw her out!"

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly when he heard the assistant’s report.

That tiny crease, when seen by Joe and Amelia, was enough for them to smugly assume—he was nervous.

Amelia seized the opening like a hawk.

"Since the Foster heir has evidence, of course he should come in! What’s wrong, Logan—are you scared?"

Joe’s tone turned righteous and heavy.

"I want justice for my daughter! Foster’s young master is her second brother—he must come in."

Then the accusation: "Logan, if you refuse, it only proves you’re guilty. Well? Do you dare?"

The room held its breath, waiting for Logan’s response.

If Joe mistaking Selina again could still be excused—after all, few fathers could manage to fail this hard—there was one thing no one doubted:

Aiden would never mistake her.

After all, when Selina was dumped in the countryside by the Clark family, it was Damien, Aiden, and the others who found her—and spent ten years raising her side by side.

If Selina’s brothers refused to acknowledge the woman standing there... she was definitely a fake.

Logan hadn’t even spoken yet when a calm, steady voice sounded from the hall:

"Whether Mr. Reid dares or not—I’m already here."

It was Aiden.

But he wasn’t alone.

Damien and Gavin walked in with him.

Damien—the movie king. Gavin—the world-class pianist. Both household names.

Their arrival detonated the internet. The livestream viewership spiked to ninety million in seconds—and was still climbing.

The presence of an international superstar like Damien was an instant spotlight. His mere arrival turned the standoff into a global spectacle.

Aiden’s gaze swept the room and settled on Selina. He gave the smallest nod, then shifted to the impostor.

Selina blinked—half surprised, half amused. They brought reinforcements?

Oh, they weren’t just exposing the fake—they were hammering her into the pillars of shame.

Damien and Gavin’s fans flooded the stream, enraged by the news that someone had dared impersonate their idol’s sister.

"WHO is faking being Damien’s and Gavin’s little sister?!"

"Expose her! She’s finished!"

But as the camera panned between the two identical faces, the question hung heavy:

Which one was the fraud?

The impostor felt a creeping unease prickling up her spine.

A wave of panic rose in her chest.

Aiden...

He’s here to help me... right?

Then why did he bring Damien and Gavin too?

Something was wrong.

Something was spiraling completely out of her control.

Her eyes darted, seeking Hannah like a drowning woman clawing for a lifeline.

But Hannah’s own jaw was clenched, irritation leaking from her eyes like steam.

Before she could intervene, Damien’s voice rolled through the room—smooth, calm, with the kind of quiet power that made people listen.

"We’ve heard what’s going on," Damien said gently. "Two Selinas, and yes, they’re hard to tell apart. But words alone won’t settle this. Even if we pointed to one and said she was the real Selina, some would think we were lying."

He paused, every sentence like a trap being set.

"So—we’ll ask both Selinas questions. Questions only we siblings could possibly know. Whoever answers correctly... that’s the real Selina."

Damien’s voice stayed warm, but the net tightened.

"Now then," he said softly, "the questions begin."

His eyes flicked deliberately to Hannah—and then to the impostor—before he spoke the first question.

"What’s in the third drawer of the left cabinet in the old house’s study?"

Selina couldn’t help it—she laughed.

The impostor felt the world tilt under her feet, terror gushing like cold water.

...How the hell was she supposed to know that?