Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
The year I graduated from college, I suddenly went from a nobody to the long-lost heiress of a billionaire family.
I honestly thought my twenty-odd years of scraping by as an orphan were finally over. I thought I’d finally get a warm embrace, a tender touch, or at least a heartfelt apology for all the lost years.
Instead, my biological mother gave me a cold, dismissive once-over and slapped a spreadsheet down in front of me: a strict 50/50 expense plan.
"Riley, you're an adult now. It's time you learned some independence."
"We might not have been around for the past twenty years, but that doesn't excuse you from pulling your own weight in this household."
"Our family operates on a three-way split. Starting today, you are responsible for an exact third of every single household expense."
At first, I tried to convince myself she was just worried I’d get spoiled by sudden wealth.
The problem was, although I had landed an entry-level job, my official start date was still weeks away. I didn't have a single spare dime to cover these ridiculous bills.
My mother couldn't care less.
"Do I look like I care about your financial situation?"
"Take out a loan. Rob a bank. I don't care what you do. Now that you live under the Hastings roof, you pay your share."
Standing there, I realized there was only one thing left to do.
Screw this reunion. I was out.
The second the words "split the expenses" left her mouth, my mind went completely blank.
"Split the expenses?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I asked again, just to be sure.
"That's right. The Hastings family might have money, but it doesn't grow on trees. This plan is designed to teach you just how hard it is to earn a living."
My mother crossed her arms, radiating an aura of utter righteousness.
"Except I haven't spent a single penny of your money," I countered.
Her expression instantly darkened.
"What kind of attitude is that?"
"You haven't even been back twenty-four hours, and you're already nickel-and-diming your own family?"
Sensing her rising temper, my father hurried over to play the peacemaker.
"Riley, don't worry too much. You only need to cover your share of the expenses generated from this day forward. We aren't charging you for the past."
"Besides, it's not just on you. Your mother and I are paying our shares too. Everything is split equally."
I stared at them, bewildered.
"Wait... are only the three of us paying into this?"
"Well, obviously. Did your father and I give birth to anyone else?"
My mother rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Then what about her?"
I pointed toward the grand staircase, where Gemma was slowly descending, and voiced the confusion burning inside me.
"How could you even compare yourself to Gemma?"
"Gemma is our adopted daughter. You are our biological child. Being strict with you is for your own good!"
For my own good?
I almost burst out laughing.
I was currently struggling to afford three meals a day, yet they hadn't even bothered to ask if I was okay. Instead, they just shoved a massive bill in my face and demanded cash.
That was for my own good?
Knowing full well I hadn't even started my job yet, telling me to take out high-interest loans just to pay rent in their mansion was for my own good?
Meanwhile, their precious adopted daughter—the girl who had stolen my identity and lived in absolute luxury for over two decades—didn't have to pay a single cent.
I bit my lower lip. "Is this mandatory? Do I really have no choice?"
"As long as you bear the Hastings name, this is non-negotiable."
I took a deep, steadying breath.
"Fine. In that case, consider this reunion canceled."
I grabbed my worn backpack, swung it over my shoulder, and turned to walk out.
I hadn't even taken three steps before my mother screeched.
"Stop right there! Where do you think you're going?"
"You're a grown woman—why are you acting like a spoiled brat? We’re trying to build your character and teach you self-reliance! Why are you so ungrateful?"
A bitter laugh escaped my throat.
"Living on my own out in the real world will build my character a whole lot better."
My mother’s eyebrows shot up. "How could that possibly be the same? How safe is a naive young girl going to be out on the streets compared to our home?"
"I survived on my own for twenty-two years before you dragged me back here. Nobody took care of me then, and I did just fine."
Without looking back, I kept walking toward the front door.
"I said no, and I mean no!"
My mother panicked, her voice turning shrill. "Take one more step, and I swear to God I will ruin your new job before you even start!"
My feet froze in place. I spun around, staring at the woman in utter disbelief.
I couldn't fathom that these words were coming out of my own biological mother's mouth.
She was actually threatening to sabotage my career just to force me into submission.
Seeing the shock painted all over my face, she knew she had won.
A smug, triumphant smirk crept onto her lips.
"Don't forget, I have your original legal name-change decree and your vital records locked in my study."
"You aren't Chloe Vance anymore. Your legal state ID says Riley Hastings."
My college diploma and degree certificates were all issued under the name Chloe Vance.
Yet my newly issued government ID read Riley Hastings.
If I wanted to pass HR's strict background verification and complete my I-9 forms, that official name-change decree was the only bridge connecting my two identities.
Trapped, I had no choice but to swallow my pride and bow my head.
"See? Wouldn't it have been so much easier if you had just complied from the start?"
"With that nasty temper of yours, it looks like I really need to put some serious effort into straightening you out."My mother was a woman of her word—within a week, the first detailed invoice was ready.
She held up her phone, breaking down every single line item with sickening precision.
"Utilities and heating this month came out to $1,000. Groceries were $5,000. Household supplies like paper towels, soaps, and toiletries were $1,800. Gas for the cars was $300. That brings the total to $8,100."
"Divided evenly among the three of us, your share comes out to exactly $2,700."
She turned her icy gaze toward me. "How do you plan to settle this balance?"
My chest tightened so hard it hurt.
$2,700.
That was nearly two whole months' worth of my usual living expenses.
And my entire bank account held barely $3,000.
I looked up, meeting her eyes. "Is this the bill for the entire month?"
"Yes, obviously."
"I've only lived in this house for one week. Why am I paying for a full month?"
"Calculating by the day is too much of a headache..."
My mother rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Besides, we're family. Why are you making such a big deal over who pays a little more or a little less?"
I refused to back down an inch.
"You're the one who demanded a strict split. A split only works if it's fair."
With the tension in the room dropping below freezing, my father stepped in once again.
He waved his hand with an easy, dismissive gesture. "Alright, alright! Let's just let Riley pay for one week this time around. I'll cover the rest of her share."
Listening to him, I didn't feel a shred of gratitude.
I shouldn't have been on the hook for that money in the first place.
What did he mean, "he'd cover the rest for me"?
Still, I had bigger fish to fry and no time to squabble over petty details.
"What about this $300 gas bill?"
"I don't even have a driver's license. Why am I paying for gas?"
My mother's face instantly twisted.
"What is wrong with you? Just because you don't drive doesn't mean you don't ride in the cars!"
"Transportation is a shared household utility. Of course it gets split."
"Your father drives everyone around and hasn't charged you a single cent for his time as a chauffeur. What's the problem with you chipping in for some gas?"
My voice remained deadpan. "I have never stepped foot in any of your cars. Even on the day you brought me here, I took the public bus."
"Just because you haven't yet doesn't mean you won't in the future! Gas is a household expense, and it will be shared equally. End of discussion."
Seeing that logic wasn't working, she simply bulldozed over my objections.
Knowing she still held my vital legal documents hostage, I didn't dare push her too far.
I had to bite the bullet and play the fool for now.
"One week comes out to exactly $675. Are you using Venmo or PayPal?"
While speaking, she had already pulled up her payment QR code.
$675.
Right down to the exact dollar.
She made sure she wouldn't lose a single cent, and made damn sure I wouldn't gain a single penny.
She was more calculating than a predatory loan shark.
"Notification: $675 transferred via PayPal."
I held up my phone, showing her that the funds had cleared.
My mother glanced at her updated balance with deep satisfaction and offered some "motherly" advice:
"If it hurts your wallet that much, try cutting back on daily waste. Take shorter showers, turn off the lights, and don't touch the AC unless necessary."
"Don't underestimate these small habits! A penny saved is a penny earned—it adds up to big numbers over a month."
I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white.
Just one more month.
I only had to endure this hell for one more month, get my legal papers back, and leave this wretched place forever.I wasn't the only person living in the Hastings mansion.
If the others refused to conserve, my frugality meant absolutely nothing.
If I couldn't cut back, my only option was to bleed through my savings until I was broke.
Except I barely had any savings to begin with.
To plug the massive financial sinkhole created by the Hastings, I had to scramble for side gigs.
At my peak, I juggled three jobs a day.
In the morning, I sweated inside a suffocating mascot costume, handing out flyers outside shopping plazas.
In the afternoon, I stood for hours as an in-store brand promoter at supermarkets.
At night, I set up a small folding table at the local night market to sell handmade jewelry.
I worked myself to the bone, barely scraping together enough cash to cover the weekly household payments.
I kept telling myself to just grit my teeth and push through—everything would get better once my corporate job officially started.
But before that day arrived, my body gave out first.
I collapsed on the sidewalk and was rushed to the ER by a kind stranger.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard the doctor speaking with the good Samaritan.
He explained that I was suffering from severe malnutrition and acute physical exhaustion, but with proper rest and nutrition, I would recover.
After the kind stranger left, my mother finally sauntered into the room with Gemma trailing behind her.
Wrinkling her nose at the smell of antiseptic, she scoffed, "What on earth is wrong with you now? How did you end up in the hospital over nothing?"
The doctor repeated the diagnosis: "The patient is severely malnourished and overworked. She needs high-calorie, nutritious meals and plenty of bed rest once she's discharged."
"Malnourished?"
My mother’s voice instantly went sharp. "Riley, stop acting like I'm starving you!"
"Ever since you moved in, our kitchen has been serving prime rib, fresh seafood, and gourmet meals every single night! How could you possibly be malnourished?"
A bitter, cold laugh bubbled in my throat.
Sure, the Hastings mansion served gourmet spreads every evening.
Too bad I actually needed the "time" to sit down and eat it.
Thanks to her beloved expense-splitting scheme, I was out working every waking second of the day, except for the few hours I slept.
Most days, I was so busy running between gigs that taking a sip of water was a luxury.
If that wasn't textbook neglect and abuse, what was?
Yet, I didn't bother arguing with her.
I knew she was only making a scene to save face in front of the hospital staff.
She still had my legal papers.
Between petty emotional venting and cold, hard reality, I knew which one mattered more to my survival.
Gemma chimed in with a sweet, delicate voice, "Mom, please don't be mad. I understand Riley. She probably just faked being sick because she wanted a little more attention from us."
My mother snapped back:
"Attention? Haven't we given her enough attention?"
"Ever since she came back, the entire household has practically revolved around her!"
The more she spoke, the angrier she got. She glared down at my hospital bed. "Riley, let me ask you: after everything we've done for you, what else could you possibly want?"
I looked down at the scratchy hospital blanket.
No excuses. No reply.
My mother pointed an accusing finger at me. "Don't think your silence gets you off the hook for faking an illness. This is a severe moral flaw!"
A chill ran down my spine.
Had she really favored Gemma to such a delusional extent?
To my mother, a casual, manipulative sentence from Gemma carried far more authority than an objective medical diagnosis from an actual physician.
Just because Gemma claimed I was "faking it," my character was instantly dragged through the mud.
My fingertips went numb with cold.
I lifted my gaze, my expression completely flat. "If my character is so deeply flawed, why did you even bother bringing me back?"
Caught off guard, a flicker of panic flashed across her eyes.
"Is that how you speak to your parents after all those years of college education?"
Unable to answer the question, she pivoted to deflecting.
It was the classic playbook of the guilty.
I didn't bother pressing her further.
"As punishment for your deceit, you are paying this entire hospital bill yourself. Not a single cent will be shared through our household plan."
A faint smirk crossed my lips.
I had never expected her to pay anyway; her reaction was entirely within my calculations.
"What are you smiling at?"
Seeing my smirk, her annoyance flared up again.
"Riley, I've forgotten more about the real world than you'll ever know."
"I'm warning you: drop the little mind games and dirty tricks. Next time, it won't be as simple as making you pay your own medical bills."That collapse kept me in the hospital bed for three full days.
Every cent I had nearly killed myself earning from those side gigs was completely swallowed by the medical bills.
To make matters worse, my mother texted me right on schedule, reminding me that the next household payment was due.
Instead of waiting around to be bled dry like a sheep to the slaughter, I needed to make a move.
I decided to take the risk and steal my documents back.
The last time my mother threatened me, I had carefully noted where she kept the key to her private study.
I hadn't wanted to resort to theft unless pushed to the absolute brink.
Now, I was at the edge of the cliff.
I scanned the hallway.
Once I was certain the coast was clear, my hand wrapped around the brass handle of the study door.
Just as I was about to turn it, my mother's voice drifted through the heavy wood.
"Arthur, your strategy was pure genius!"
"All we did was leak the story of finding our long-lost daughter to the press, and without spending a single dime on PR, our company's stock jumped ten percent!"
My father chuckled softly. "Of course it did. We live in an online media frenzy. Never underestimate a sensational sob story—it yields incredible returns."
"Ugh, the stock bump is great, but that Riley... I honestly wonder if she's even my biological daughter. She does nothing but cause trouble and embarrass us. She doesn't hold a candle to Gemma."
My father laughed again.
"DNA tests don't lie, Eleanor."
"Still, you don't need to stress. Even if our biological daughter is a dud, we still have Gemma."
"Gemma might be your late sister's child, but we've raised her for twenty years. She's as good as our own flesh and blood."
"Just hang in there for a few more days, darling. Once the welcome-home gala is over and we milk the press for all they're worth, you can kick Riley out or keep her around—it'll be entirely up to you."
My mother sighed heavily.
"I suppose that's the only way. If this gala didn't have the potential to drive our stock price even higher, I couldn't bear looking at her face for another second."
So that was it.
That was the real, ugly truth behind why they found me.
My dramatic return was nothing more than a profitable headline—a PR stunt engineered to inflate their company's market value and line their pockets.
I stood frozen outside the door, numb to my core.
All those years growing up alone, I had trained myself never to harbor expectations about anything or anyone.
Even when my biological parents came knocking, I had braced myself for the absolute worst-case scenario.
Yet hearing the cold, transactional reality laid bare still made my palms sweat with ice.
Inside the study, my father was comforting my mother with a gentle tone.
"Alright, don't let it ruin your mood. Use the next few days to drill proper etiquette into Riley. The last thing we need is for her to humiliate us at her own debut gala."
My mother’s voice dripped with arrogance:
"Leave it to me."
"As long as we keep her legal records locked in our hands, she won't dare pull any funny business. If she tries, I'll make sure she regrets it!"
In the end, I never pushed open that study door.
Over the next few days, I acted like nothing had happened, dutifully enduring the grueling etiquette drills my mother threw at me.
Halfway through the week, I noticed the study was empty and slipped in to search for my documents.
Unfortunately, my mother caught me red-handed.
She barged into the room, arms crossed, glaring daggers at me.
"Riley! What are you doing in my study?"
"Were you trying to steal your papers behind my back?"
She yanked open the mahogany desk drawer and snatched the file containing my legal documents.
"Starting today, these are going straight into the heavy safe. When you prove to me that you can behave like a proper daughter, maybe I'll consider giving them back."
"Until then, don't even dream about it!"
She leaned in, her eyes menacing. "What are you standing there staring at me for? Are your etiquette drills finished for today?"
My mother genuinely believed she held total control over my future with those papers.
What she didn't realize was that in the modern corporate world, you don't always need the physical paper originals to pass an HR background check.
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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