The Real Son Returned—The Fake Heir Panicke

Time slipped by quickly, and evening arrived in the blink of an eye.

Guests began to arrive one after another.

The first floor had been transformed into a banquet hall. Long tables were laid out with exquisite dishes and an assortment of branded wines and spirits.

Cedrick stood at the entrance holding a tall glass, smiling brightly as he greeted guests, his mouth full of cloying pleasantries that made my stomach churn.

Although I had been called downstairs early as well, the Zamora family deliberately—or perhaps subconsciously—kept their distance from me. Almost no one paid me any attention.

I was more than happy with that.

I tucked myself into a corner, phone in hand, reviewing research materials.

I was completely absorbed when my grip suddenly loosened.

By the time I reacted, my phone was already gone.

On the screen, the biological reaction process under the microscope was still playing.

My heart nearly stopped.

"What are you doing? Give it back to me—now!"

Cedrick held my phone casually, clearly unconcerned.

"Brother, today is a big day for our Zamora family."

"The whole family is busy because of you. If you won't help receive guests, fine—but how can you sit here playing with your phone so shamelessly?"

"Phone... that phone is classified!" I panicked and stood up abruptly. "Give it back to me immediately!"

I didn't even have time to argue properly before rushing toward him.

But Cedrick was clearly prepared.

He took several steps back, retreating straight into the center of the banquet hall. Raising the phone high, he deliberately raised his voice.

"Brother, even if you don't like us, there's no need to act like this."

"Your parents are hosting a recognition banquet just to help you integrate into the family. Can't you consider the bigger picture for once?"

"No—give me my phone!"

I was already on the verge of collapse.

What was displayed on that screen was a top-level national secret.

If it leaked—even a fraction—the consequences would be unimaginable.

Cedrick's eyes gleamed, his tone growing sharper.

"Your phone is basically your life, huh? Can't you stand being separated from it for even a moment?"

"You don't even understand basic etiquette. How have you managed to survive all these years?"

"Something so disgraceful!"

Adeline suddenly appeared from somewhere, joining in without hesitation.

"You've embarrassed the entire Zamora family!"

"Do you... do you realize this is a crime?" I lunged forward again, my voice shaking.

Adeline smoothly took the phone from Cedrick's hand and smiled coldly at me.

"You want it? Then come and get it."

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead and stepped forward.

Just as my fingertips were about to touch the phone—Adeline suddenly tossed it high over my head.

Cedrick, standing opposite me, caught it steadily.

"Brother, the phone's over here."

He shook it lightly, grinning, like someone teasing a dog.

Laughter and whispers spread through the surrounding guests, all eyes drawn to the spectacle.

At the noise, my parents finally noticed and hurried over, frowning.

By then, my legs had gone weak. I sank to the floor, unable to muster the strength to stand.

My father looked down at me, then at the siblings, his brows tightly knit.

"Enough. Stop fooling around. What kind of behavior is this? Give him back his phone."

Cedrick glanced at the screen, quickly losing interest.

"You even set an alarm?" he scoffed. "You really know how to pretend. Are you fantasizing about being some kind of national secret agent?"

"Ridiculous!" Adeline added sharply.

My gaze locked onto the red ‘Alarm Activated' screen.

Instead of panic, relief finally washed over me.

Phones used by researchers at our institute were custom-made.

Not only did they surpass commercial devices in functionality, they also carried the highest level of confidentiality protection.

The moment the phone was taken, fingerprint and iris verification had been automatically triggered.

After Cedrick and Adeline tossed it back and forth, verification had failed repeatedly.

Which meant—through the internal warning channel, an alert had already been sent to the nearest special operations unit.