I was born broken, a secret buried so deep even the people who raised me never knew.

I was born broken, a secret buried so deep even the people who raised me never knew. The summer I turned eighteen, Arthur and Eleanor Townsend finally found their biological son. At the welcoming gala held in his honor, Preston Townsend raised his crystal flute toward me. The room was drowning in champagne and old New York society perfume, but the moment our glasses chimed, a cold, synthetic cadence rang inside my skull: “Ding. Target detected: Damian Townsend. Prime masculine magnetism identified. Initiate Plunder?” Preston’s silent scream reverberated through my mind, raw and rabid: “Plunder it! Strip him of everything! Why should an imposter enjoy a life that belongs to me? I want it back. I want his face, his charm, his entire damn existence!” “Directive confirmed. Plunder sequence initiated. Irreversible.” A heartbeat later, a faint, unfamiliar warmth coiled deep in my pelvis, while Preston’s features seemed to sharpen beneath the crystal chandeliers. He offered me a practiced, radiant smile. "Looking forward to learning from you, little brother." I met his triumphant gaze, letting the corners of my mouth lift into a polite, practiced curve. "Welcome home, Preston." The moment that toast ended, Preston looked as though an invisible sculptor had chiseled his jawline. His silhouette cut through the room with an effortless, hypnotic masculinity that pulled every eye in the ballroom toward him.#revengestory #reddit_tiktok #askredditstories #relationship #revengereturns #reddit #drama #revenge #redditstories #redditreadings