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A Life Built on Their Lies

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 687    |    Released on: 10/07/2025

parents announced th

said, avoiding my eyes. "It' s a foll

into my hand. "Here, sweetie. For grocerie

It was pocket change to them, a fortu

steady. "I was thinking of visiting Grandma and

derful idea! They' ll be so happy to s

y lore, were retired factory workers living on a meager pension. Their ho

w. My grandmother enveloped me in a hug that smelled of lavender an

back, his smile warm.

the faded floral wallpaper, the smell of boiled cabbag

s cuff. I recognized the brand-a Rolex. It was subtle, but it was there. My grandmother' s hands,

es from a generic store-brand tin. Then, my gr

A little something

y deposit it into my savings account, the one I

e was di

afternoon, with my mom still there, I ma

to my mother. "I think I' ll use the money G

ly? Are you sure, honey? You'

I said with a shrug, t

he spirit!" my grandfather said. "A

ays thinking of us. She never asks for anything. She got into col

dependence; they were relieved by it. My "tough love" upbring

, I knew. The beef was Wagyu, meltingly tender. The carrots were from an expensive organic farm.

isy was su

said, her expression turning serious. "There' s an issue with the

urse,"

ng small talk until my grandparents s

, standing up. "I should get

oor, their faces a perfect mask

' t head for the bus stop. I hid in the

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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