Dissatisfied Heir My Father Chose My Cousin Over Me

Dad chased after me.

"Alex."

He grabbed my arm, frowning. "Can't you act more mature? Arguing with me in front of everyone—you're just giving people something to laugh about."

"Lucas lost his parents young. We need to look out for him."

"And right now, I have to avoid any conflict of interest. Once I get the Best Entrepreneur award, I'll find a way to make you CEO."

"Come back with me. Apologize to everyone. Tell them you're willing to be Lucas's right-hand man."

I thought he'd changed his mind. I was naive. Another slap in the face.

"Back then, I earned that study abroad spot through my own hard work. You took it and gave it to Lucas—the guy who slept through every class."

"You said it was to avoid conflict of interest."

"You said he was alone and helpless, and I should let him have it."

"You said you'd send me abroad later."

"So what happened?"

I looked him in the eye.

This was nothing new. From childhood to now, it had always been like this.

When I moved from elementary to middle school, middle school to high school—my grades were always at the top. I still couldn't get into the best schools.

Dad said it was to avoid conflict of interest.

Then he pulled strings to get Lucas, who hadn't even met the requirements, into every one of them.

For years, I kept wondering: Was I not good enough? Was that why I couldn't earn recognition?

So I worked harder.

Now I finally understood. No matter what I achieved, in Dad's eyes, I would never measure up to Lucas.

Never measure up to five words: "avoid conflict of interest."

As if I'd exposed the secret he'd buried in his heart, Dad's face twisted with rage. "Alex, if you keep this up, don't ever think about coming back to the company!"

His gaze was cold. Threatening.

"Fine."

This time, I didn't back down. I turned and walked away.

He froze.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something. Nothing came out.

I walked out of the hotel.

The wind outside cut like his words—straight to the bone.

"Dad."

"Even without you, I can stand on my own."

I took a deep breath and messaged Serena Henson, a junior from the Capital's elite circle: [I heard you have so much money you don't know what to do with it. Interested in investing in me?]

[Sure!]

Serena replied fast: [Meet at the usual place tonight. Let's talk.]

[What kind of stockings do you want me to wear? Black? White? Fishnets?]

I smiled despite myself.

Ever since she found out I was single again, she'd made flirting with me her favorite hobby.

I headed home to pack. The moment I walked in, I saw Mom on the couch.

"Mom, I—"

Before I could finish, she grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at my face.

"Why did you humiliate your father in public? Why do you have to go after Lucas?"

"It's just a CEO position! You're both Gilberts—what difference does it make who sits in that chair?"

So she already knew.

Just as I expected.

No comfort. No warmth.

Just accusations.

I took a deep breath. "You're both Gilberts—so what difference does it make who you call your son?"

"From now on, let Lucas call you Mom and Dad."

I didn't have the energy to fight.

I just said it. Flat. Final.

"You—"

Mom lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. "This is exactly why you can't be CEO. You're immature. You don't respect your elders."

I laughed.

"Mom."

"You think I'm immature? You think I'm disrespectful?"

"Then let me ask you—ever since you brought Lucas home, the good food, the privileges, the opportunities—haven't I given up every single one of them for him?"