I Stole the Heiress’s Identity for Fifteen Years For fifteen years, I lived a lie. I was Charlotte Coleman, the beloved daughter of the wealthy Coleman family. But it was all a facade. I wasn’t their real daughter; I was a fraud, an imposter who had taken the place of their true heiress. When the truth finally came out, the Colemans cast me aside like yesterday’s trash. They shipped me off to my biological father without a second thought. No one cared about me anymore. The abuse started immediately. Insults, beatings, wounds both big and small. My body became a canvas of pain and suffering. Then one night, while working at a bar, I saw him. Tall, cold, and imposing. James Zhang. He pressed his cigarette into the back of my hand. The pain was excruciating, but I didn’t make a sound. The hole in my skin felt like it was burning straight through to my heart. Desperate, I fell to my knees and clutched at his sleeve. “James, please,” I begged. “Save me.” He laughed coldly, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Charlotte Coleman,” he sneered. “Did you ever think this day would come when you caused Rose’s death?”
The pain from the cigarette burn on my hand was more intense than all the other injuries on my body combined. I knelt on the floor, my hair and clothes soaked with spilled drinks. My eyes were lifeless, filled with a deathly emptiness. I clung desperately to the sleeve of the handsome man before me, my face dry of tears but full of hollow determination. “James, please,” I pleaded, staring up at the man I once loved with every fiber of my being. “Save me.” “Boss, don’t fall for it,” someone nearby warned. “This woman’s an expert at playing the victim. Don’t let her fool you.” James frowned, looking down at me – once the proud, arrogant princess of the Coleman family, now groveling at his feet like a stray dog. Suddenly, he smiled. He removed the cigarette from my hand and roughly tilted my chin up, showing no hint of compassion. “Charlotte Coleman,” he said coldly. “Did you ever imagine you’d end up like this when you caused Rose’s death?” My eyes remained empty, the result of countless instances of abuse and humiliation. “I didn’t kill Rose,” I whispered. He kicked me to the ground without mercy, then brushed off his sleeve where I had grabbed it, as if disgusted. “Pathetic,” he spat.
As he turned to leave, I crawled forward and wrapped my arms around his legs. “I promise I won’t love you anymore,” I begged. “Please, just save me.” He frowned, clearly not expecting this. His face twisted with contempt, exuding the air of someone far above me. “Charlotte Coleman, I never thought I’d see you lose your dignity like this,” he sneered. “You should be grateful I haven’t killed you already.” “Ha! Save you? Do you realize you’re lower than a dog right now?” “James, Mr. Zhang, I swear I’ll never love you again,” I pleaded robotically. “Just take me with you.” I clung to his legs as if possessed, my heart numb with pain. But I was used to it by now. Compared to staying alive, what did dignity or pride matter anymore? But he forcefully shook me off, flicking his cigarette butt next to my shoe. “Charlotte Coleman, you need to understand,” he said coldly. “You mean less to me than this discarded cigarette.” Behind me, the people who once fawned over me as the Coleman heiress now looked on with mockery. Another drink was poured over my head, soaking my clothes with red wine. “Look how far the mighty have fallen,” someone sneered. “Wasn’t she so high and mighty before?” another chimed in. “Didn’t she threaten to destroy us if we ever crossed her?” A shoe pressed against my face, but I barely reacted as I slowly stood up. “I’ll clean this up, ladies and gentlemen,” I said tonelessly. “Oh, have you turned over a new leaf?” someone mocked. A female voice cut through the crowd – Megan. Back when I was still Charlotte Coleman, she had a crush on James. I had treated James like my personal property back then, warning off any girl who got too close. Karma really does come back around, I thought bitterly.
Megan smashed a bottle that had been sitting on the table, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Bitch, come pick up these shards,” she ordered. “And use your hands only.” I walked forward without protest or resistance. Obediently, without a hint of the anger a normal person would feel, I bent down to pick up the broken glass. Her high heel came down on my hand, driving the glass shards into my palm. Blood dripped onto the floor. I didn’t cry out in pain. I just endured it silently. My hand was a mess – a cigarette burn on the back, cuts and blood on the palm, fingers permanently bent and ugly. Megan laughed derisively. “Oh Charlotte, Charlotte,” she taunted. “You couldn’t escape, and now your hand is ruined too.” Seeing that I remained silent, Megan slapped me hard across the face. I fell to the ground from the force of it, my right cheek stinging. But it was nothing compared to what I’d endured over the past few years. “You’ve got the face of a whore,” Megan snarled. “I’ll do you a favor and destroy it!” She suddenly flew into a rage, grabbing a piece of broken bottle and aiming for my face. For a moment, I felt a sense of relief. If my face was ruined, maybe my life would actually improve. But the glass never touched my skin. A voice spoke up from behind me. “Miss Coleman, the CEO sent me to fetch you.” I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It was James’s assistant. I turned around, but even this potential salvation couldn’t bring any life back to my empty eyes. I looked like a person on the brink of death. Because I knew James hated me. But still, a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest. Nothing could be worse than the daily abuse and torture that made me wish for death. Even if James was leading me into the depths of hell, I would go willingly.
I laughed bitterly to myself. Even though James didn’t love me, he was still the only one in this world of wealth and status willing to save me. Mr. Lee escorted me to another presidential suite – the one Rose used to like. James was sitting on the couch, a smile playing on his lips as he patted the spot beside him. “Sit,” he commanded. I approached timidly but didn’t sit down. My hand was still bleeding, the cigarette burn on the back giving off a faint smell of charred flesh. My back was hunched, my body skeletal, with only my face retaining its outstanding beauty. This was why my biological father had left my face untouched. James suddenly grabbed my hand, and I instinctively tried to pull away. My back hit the couch, and I winced slightly – the wounds there hadn’t healed yet. “Is the princess still too delicate?” he asked maliciously. Then he threw some tissues across the room, as if playing with a dog. “Go fetch those and clean my shoes.” I started to get up, but he added, “On your hands and knees.” Like a puppet on strings, I dropped to my knees and crawled over to retrieve the tissues. Then I crawled back and began polishing his shoes, my face expressionless, as if I’d done this countless times before. Seeing me like this seemed to displease James for some reason. He kicked me over and stepped on my injured hand.
It hurt, but compared to the suffering I’d endured over the years, it was nothing. I looked up at him blankly, my eyes devoid of their former pride, arrogance, and passionate love. There was only emptiness now. Seeing that I didn’t resist, James seemed to lose interest. But for some reason, he suddenly became angry. “Charlotte Coleman, don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you’re playing the victim,” he growled. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. My face turned red as I struggled to breathe. Only then did a hint of life seem to return to me. Seeing this, he abruptly let go, throwing me to the ground. “Let me tell you something,” he said. “You killed Rose. You should be grateful I haven’t killed you in return.” I sat on the floor, gasping for air, but I no longer wanted to defend myself. They would rather believe I killed Rose out of jealousy than listen to my explanation. It was true then, and it’s true now. At this point, I just wanted to survive. Only by living could I see any hope. Any thoughts of love had long since been ground away by daily abuse. A moment later, Mr. Lee knocked and entered. “Sir, Charles Coleman is here,” he announced. James gave me a meaningful look. “Let him in,” he said. A familiar face appeared, and my heart filled with fear. My brother, who had doted on me for over a decade before forcefully sending me back to my birth family. “Scared?” James asked with interest, noticing my reaction. I pressed my lips together tightly, saying nothing. Yes, I was afraid. In fact, Charles terrified me even more than James did – this brother who had once spoiled me rotten.
I knew James’s nature well. Even if he hated me, he wouldn’t do anything too extreme. He would never seriously harm a woman. But Charles was different. After Rose’s death, he had become a complete monster. Before I left the Coleman family, he had already broken my fingers. It was James who saw me and sent me to the hospital. The door opened, and I looked up from my kneeling position. A familiar face came into view, eyes filled with hatred as they fell on me. “James, since when did you start meddling in other people’s business?” Charles asked coldly. James sat on the couch, not turning to look at him. He flicked his cigarette ash onto me as I knelt on the floor. A smile played on his lips. “Since when do I need to report my actions to you, Mr. Coleman?” he replied smoothly. I felt a small sense of relief. I was grateful it had been James I encountered earlier. Suddenly, a large hand grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. A hard slap landed on my face. “Who told you to come back, you bitch?” Charles snarled. I remained silent, kneeling on the floor, looking at James as if waiting for his orders. If I was a dog now, I was a dog James had picked up. I belonged to him. James lit another cigarette, watching the scene unfold before him with a slight smirk. He made no move to intervene. My heart sank. I had foolishly thought he might have brought me back out of some lingering sympathy from when I used to like him. Now I realized he just wanted to ensure I suffered even more before I died. I looked up, touching my swollen cheek. “Brother, please stop,” I pleaded. “I didn’t kill Rose. It had nothing to do with me.” I used one hand to prop myself up, trying not to fall over. “Charlotte Coleman, how long are you going to keep up this act?” Charles growled. “Tell me! Is this how you tricked James?” He grabbed my throat. “I didn’t… I didn’t…” I choked out, shaking my head vigorously as tears welled up in my eyes. Seeing the person who was once closest to me now wanting to kill me, I felt a crushing sense of suffocation. My heart, numb for so long, was now filled with sharp, stinging pain.
[Just die. It would be better if I died.] The thought suddenly flashed through my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. I had to live. I still had a future ahead of me. If I died now, what would all my past suffering have been for? My strong will to survive made me struggle fiercely, even as Charles’s hand tightened around my throat. As I closed my eyes, a sense of release washed over me, but it was tinged with regret. No family, no love – in the end, I had nothing left. Even on this scorching summer day, my body felt cold. “Let her go.” That cool voice. I knew it all too well. It was James. “Rose is already dead. Do you want another death on your conscience?” he continued. I fell to the ground, my head spinning, voices echoing around me. Charles shouted like a madman. “She killed my sister! What does it matter if I kill her?” In the end, all my explanations were futile. The accusation of murder seemed to have become a permanent mark on me. I didn’t know who, if anyone, would ever believe me. “Calm down,” James said. “Hah! James, have you gone soft? Didn’t you tell me yourself that you wished she was dead?” Charles sneered. “I said what I wanted to do was my business,” James replied coldly. “If she’s going to die, it should be by my hand.” The sound of a fist slamming on the table accompanied Charles’s angry voice. “She killed Rose, James. You’d better not forget what you said before.”
The door slammed shut. Cold tea was poured on my face, making me open my eyes with a start. I met those icy eyes and shivered. My clothes were in disarray, and there wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt. My face was pale, and sweat beaded on my forehead. James smirked. I should be grateful to him, I thought, but I was too exhausted to speak. “Charlotte Coleman, don’t think you’re off the hook,” he said coldly. “As long as I’m around, you’ll never have an easy day.” Any ripple of emotion I had felt earlier settled back into stillness at his words. After a while, James stood up. “Mr. Lee, get her some clothes,” he ordered. Then he turned to me. “Go clean yourself up. Don’t dirty my room.” He frowned as he looked at my hollow eyes. In his memory, I was that arrogant, domineering heiress. In just a few years, I had become this weak creature who couldn’t even fight back. He used to despise me, but now, seeing me like this seemed to irritate him. He snorted, then, as if he couldn’t stand it anymore, he grabbed my messy hair and said angrily, “Look up.” I raised my head, but there was no trace of my former arrogance. Dissatisfied, he advanced, and I immediately retreated in fear. I had successfully provoked his anger, but he didn’t know that I was no longer the Charlotte Coleman of the past. Even if I tried, I couldn’t pretend to be that bold, willful person anymore. “Get out,” he suddenly said. I froze, and he immediately shouted, smashing a teacup on the table. “GET OUT!” Frightened, I was grabbed and thrown into the bathroom. Standing in the bathroom, I was still dazed. My brow furrowed, and my head throbbed with pain. But I still took off my clothes. In front of the bathroom mirror, I saw a woman with not a single unblemished spot on her body. Skeletal and ugly. But I still felt grateful for this chance to use the bathroom. For years, I hadn’t had the opportunity to take a proper shower. As the water touched my skin, I suddenly felt nauseous. It was sticky, foul-smelling – as if those people’s hands were still on me. Fighting the urge to vomit, I scrubbed my body viciously, as if trying to wash away all the filth from before. I ignored the wounds on my body – new ones, old ones, infected ones. I found it quite laughable. Those without fortune often cling stubbornly to life. Being surrounded by family love now seemed like something from a past century.
A knock on the bathroom door startled me, and I immediately hugged myself defensively. “Miss Coleman, I’ve left the clothes outside the door,” Mr. Lee’s voice came through. My heart, which had leapt into my throat, slowly settled back down. “Thank you,” I said timidly. Another set of footsteps approached outside, and suddenly a wave of fear washed over me. Living in constant fear had become a habit, and I couldn’t trust anyone anymore, not even James, whom I once liked and who had brought me back. My mind suddenly flashed back to a few years ago when this presidential suite was my favorite place to be. Because James was often here. Back then, everyone knew about my crush on James. Even though I knew James didn’t like me, I still arrogantly drove away all the girls who liked him. My feelings were written all over my face; no one could miss how much I liked him. Pain flared up all over my body. I looked at my fingers, permanently bent even after healing. Ugly and unbearable, a constant reminder etched into my bones and blood. The past days consumed me like a bloodthirsty beast, burying my body deep in an abyss. I could never go back to who I was before – not since I was sent back home, thrown into the bathroom by my birth father, my clothes violently torn off. What remained of Charlotte Coleman was just an empty shell, soulless but desperately clinging to life.
Looking at the reflection in the mirror – a delicate face on a skeletal body covered in scars – I suddenly laughed. In the past, I would have been upset by James’s coldness and disgust. But now, there was only a deathly silence in my heart. Was I sad? Yes, but more than that, I just wanted to live. I put on the clothes and frowned slightly. My figure wasn’t as full as it was years ago. James’s clothes hung loosely on me, the neckline plunging to my chest, adding an unintended touch of allure. After searching for a while and not finding any shoes, I walked out barefoot. As soon as I opened the door, my eyes widened. James’s gaze fell on my face, trailed down my neck, and finally settled on my neckline. My thin body couldn’t fill out the clothes properly, but my chest had developed well. His gaze suddenly became intense, making me uncomfortable. My whole body felt like it was burning under his stare. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to me. I had developed a conditioned response to men’s thick desire, able to sense it clearly even without words. My body started to tremble with deep-seated fear. I stumbled, trying to leave, but he stepped forward and gripped my arm tightly. His voice was filled with both desire and anger. “Charlotte Coleman, are you deliberately trying to seduce me?”
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