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A Life Built on Their Lies

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 735    |    Released on: 10/07/2025

burned behind my eyelids all night. Millions.

apartment that I now knew was a stage. Around seve

ng artist" costumes-faded jeans for my dad, a paint-smeared tunic for my mom. They looked like they had

t, tired murmur. She was carrying a greasy paper bag

Inside were two plain bagels. My

ust watched them. I felt a strange detachment,

miles away from their supposed studio. Then, my gaze landed on the refrigerator. They' d forgotten a detail in their elabor

g bonus," I said, my voice fl

aching for a mug, stopped mid-air. My father sta

vous sound. "A client gave it to us. A

aid, my voice dripping with an

d a quick, wo

vid said, his voice a little to

thought of eating anything they provided

my forehead. Her touch felt alien. I flinched away. "You don' t have a

lling a blanket over mysel

ably thought I was just being a moody teenager, upset about New

screen, and her entire demeanor changed. The fake we

r voice was warm, dripping with affection. "Did you sleep well?

em, a coldness spreading through my veins. It was the same adoring look th

ut her," she whispered into the phone. "She doesn' t suspect a thing. We' ll k

t. For

ment. I was the secret. My poverty,

, where everyone was an actor and the whole world was a set designed to deceive me. The thought wasn

chill that had settled deep in my bones. It was a cold that had nothi

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A Life Built on Their Lies
A Life Built on Their Lies
“The phone call came at 7 PM on New Year' s Eve. My parents, struggling artists, were missing our countdown again for a "last-minute commission." I, Olivia, stared at a sad frozen pizza, preparing for another lonely night. But when I went to bring them dinner at their studio, I saw something that made my world tilt: a luxury SUV, my father in a tailored suit, my mother in a stunning gown, and a handsome boy my age. They laughed, a perfect, happy family heading into the city's most expensive restaurant. When I called out, their smiles vanished, replaced by panic. "What are you doing here?" my mother snapped. The boy, Julian, looked at my cheap clothes with disdain. "No one, Julian, just a... distant relative," my mother quickly said, shielding him from me. My father gave me a hard look. "Go home, Olivia. We' ll talk later." They walked away, leaving me on the cold pavement, the festive sounds from the restaurant mocking my pain. Back in the apartment, tears streaming down my face, I tore the place apart, desperate for answers. I found a hidden compartment in a wooden box: property deeds for luxury condos, stock certificates, and contracts for art sales worth millions. My parents weren't poor; they were immensely rich. They treated Julian with the love and pride I had always craved, while I was their shameful secret, their "distant relative." How could they? All my life, I had sacrificed everything, believing I was helping them escape poverty. My existence was a calculated charade. The truth was inescapable. The next morning, I heard my mother whispering on the phone to Julian: "Don' t worry about her. She doesn' t suspect a thing. We' ll keep it a secret, just like we always have. It' s for your own good, sweetheart." Their entire production, designed to keep me in a cage, was for his benefit. I had to get out.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10