Keep Your Love Give Me Cash

Word on the street was that the moment the Huntington heir graduated, his parents gifted him ten million dollars and a ten percent stake in the family empire.

I sat in my cubicle, gnawing on a stale bagel Id saved from the day before, practically drooling with envy.

I ran the numbers in my head. Even if he never lifted a finger for the rest of his life, just living off the interest and dividends, hed be pulling in a cool six million a year, easy.

For a pathetic, corporate drone like me, getting paid to do absolutely nothing was the ultimate dream. It was the summit of my existence.

Then came the day the Chairman and his family found me. They told me I was their biological son, lost for twenty-three years.

My buddy warned me, "Look, Wes. Families with that kind of money? They have rules. Dozens of them. You won't survive it. Besides, theyve raised Tristan for over twenty years. They won't have any real feelings for you."

I flashed him a jagged, cynical grin. "Its fine. Im not in it for the love. Im in it for the cash."

I was whisked away to the Huntington estate. On the drive over, the butler briefed me on the lay of the land.

The Huntingtons had three children: the eldest daughter, Harper; the second daughter, Blair; and the third son, Tristan.

After I went missing all those years ago, Mrs. HuntingtonCatherinewas inconsolable. To fill the void, they went to an upscale orphanage and adopted a boy. That was Tristan.

Tristan was smart, sensible, and achieved straight As effortlessly. He had grown up basking in the adoration of his parents and sisters.

The moment the car pulled up to the manor, I was blocked at the entrance by the second daughter, Blair.

She raked her eyes over me, her gaze lingering on my cheap sneakers and worn-out jeans with undisguised disgust. She scoffed, looking at me sideways. "So. Youre Wes?"

I nodded and pointed to the butler beside me. "Apparently. Thats what they tell me. But you can still call me by my real name, Wes Miller."

She sneered, a cold, sharp sound. "You look like trash. You dont even compare to Tristans little finger."

She took a step closer, her perfume expensive and overpowering. "Give up now. Even if youre back, you will never replace Tristan. This family only has one son, and that is Tristan! You cant compete with him in anything."

"Im warning you," she hissed, lowering her voice. "Know your place. Be polite to Tristan. Dont do anything that makes me hate you. Otherwise, I have a million ways to make you disappear."

Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and marched into the villa.

I rolled my eyes at her retreating back.

Who cares if she hates me? Im here to secure the bag, not to fight for affection. Once I get the money, she won't have to chase me out; Ill be on the first flight to the Caribbean.

Tristan, the adopted son, got ten million and ten percent of the shares just for graduating. As the biological son, asking for an extra two million wouldn't be excessive, right?

I was about to push the heavy oak doors open when they were pulled from the inside.

A guy about my age stood there. Our eyes locked. He quickly plastered a radiant smile on his face, grabbing my hand with an enthusiasm that felt rehearsed. "You must be Wes!"

"Come in, come in! Mom and Dad are waiting for you!"

No surprises here. This was the legendary Tristanhigh EQ, high IQ, the golden boy.

He ushered me into the living room. On the plush velvet sofas, an elegant middle-aged couple immediately stood up.

When she saw me, Catherine Huntington froze.

She walked slowly toward me, her manicured fingers trembling slightly as she reached out to touch my face. "Wes... is it really my Wes?"

Then, she pulled me into a desperate, crushing hug.

"Mom has finally found you."

"All these years... did you have a hard life out there? Im so sorry... Mom is so sorry..."

I had prepared myself for a cold reception, but being suddenly embraced by this stranger who smelled like lavender and money... it stirred something complicated in my chest.

I grew up in the system. I had never felt anything resembling familial love.

Just as I was calculating the appropriate emotional response, the sound of shattering glass cut through the air, pierced by Tristans high-pitched scream.

Everyones attention snapped to him instantly.

He was sprawled on the floor, clutching his elbow, sobbing. "Mom... it hurts..."

Drops of blood hit the pristine white marble floor.

Catherine immediately released me and rushed over to him. Her eyes were filled with panic and heartache. "Tristan!"

"Quick! Call the doctor!"

Mr. Huntington, Richard, crowded around too. Once he saw the blood, he turned and roared at the hovering maids. "How do you do your jobs? Why did you let the Young Master pour the tea himself?!"

Tristan grabbed Richards arm with his good hand, his voice trembling. "Dad, don't blame them. I was just thinking... since my big brother is back, I wanted to pour him a cup of tea personally."

"Its my fault. Im too clumsy. I missed a step."

He leaned weakly into Catherines arms, defending the servants. He looked like a fragile angel. Anyone seeing this would feel their heart break for him.

The family doctor arrived quickly. After a simple bandage job, Blair wasnt satisfied and insisted they go to the hospital for a full check-up.

Naturally, the whole family prepared to escort him to the ER.

As they were heading out the door, Catherine seemed to remember I existed. She turned back, looking apologetic. "Wes, I had prepared a welcome dinner for you, but this... with Tristan..."

Before she could finish, Blair stomped back, grabbed her arm, and cut her off. "Oh, come on, Mom. Why bother with a feast for a gutter rat? The priority is Tristan! He lost so much blood, aren't you worried? Let's go!"

Two seconds later, I heard the heavy thud of the front door slamming shut.

Instantly, the massive villa was silent. Just me.

I sat on the sofa, glancing around the opulent room. My hand brushed against a leather-bound book on the coffee table. A photo album.

I opened the first page. Tristan, holding a coconut, smiling brilliantly on a white sandy beach.

Then came summer camps, international math competitions, and the whole family surrounding him for birthdays, blowing out candles on cakes that cost more than my rent.

Most of the photos were from 2013.

I was twelve that year. I hit a growth spurt in middle school. The orphanage was crowded, resources were thin. To make sure I got enough to eat, I went to the cafeteria right after school to help the lunch ladies wash vegetables in exchange for leftovers.

While I was worrying about starving, he was vacationing in Fiji with his parents and sisters.

Comparison really is the thief of joy.

I sat in that living room until nearly midnight. There was no sign of them returning.

I decided to head back to my apartment.

I grabbed my bag and stood up just as the door opened. Catherine walked in, supporting Tristan. She looked surprised to see me.

"Wes? Its so late. Where are you going?"

"It got late, and you guys weren't back. I didn't know where I was sleeping, so I figured Id go home."

Hearing my answer, she paused, guilt flashing across her face.

"Mom was just busy and forgot."

"Tch. Stop playing the victim," Blair sneered from the doorway.

Catherine turned to the housekeeper behind her. "Mrs. Higgins, take Wes to his room to rest."

"Mom, let me take my brother," Tristan volunteered, stepping forward.

Catherine smiled at him, relieved. "Tristan is always so sensible. Go ahead, take your brother up."

Tristan walked up, grabbing my hand with that practiced familiarity, and led me upstairs. He pushed open the door to a bedroom on the second floor.

"Brother, you can stay in this one."

I looked inside. It was spacious, warm, beautifully decorated.

Before I could speak, Blair dashed up and blocked the doorway.

"No! This is Tristans room! Tristan, why are you giving your room to this hillbilly?"

"People like him are manipulative. Youre too kind, don't let him bully you!"

Tristan looked at her, feigning a scolding tone. "Blair, the room Mom prepared isn't as big as mine. I figured... Brother has suffered so much out there for years. Ive replaced him here, enjoying all this happiness. Now that hes back, I should compensate him."

"I occupied his spot. Its time to give it back."

He turned to me, his eyes wide and fearful. "Brother, you won't blame me, right? Don't worry, Ill return everything that belongs to you. Ill give you whatever you want. Just... please don't chase me away."

"I just love Mom and Dad so much. I can't bear to leave them..."

Jesus.

So Tristan wasn't just a golden boy; he was a master manipulator. A text-book "Pick-me" boy.

"Nonsense! What replacement? You are my son, Tristan Huntington!"

Richard Huntington had appeared behind us. Hearing Tristans speech, he barked out the words sternly.

He walked over and ruffled Tristans hair. "Silly child, don't think like that. Your mother and I raised you by hand. To us, blood doesn't matter. You are the child we love the most."

Hearing this, Tristans eyes instantly filled with tears. He turned and clung to Richards arm, whining affectionately, "Dad, of course Im your son. I just feel bad for Brother, and I don't want to leave you guys..."

While they enacted their touching father-son moment, I walked to the room next door and pushed it open.

It was fine. Smaller than Tristans, but clean and bright. A hell of a lot better than my rat-hole apartment.

"Ill take this one."

Tristan froze, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "Relax. I don't rob people of their things."

Without waiting for a reaction, I tossed my bag inside and shut the door.

Reviewing the day, I realized that aside from Catherine showing a flicker of maternal instinct, the rest of them viewed me as an intruder.

Rumor had it that the Huntington empire was originally Catherines family business. Richard had married into it. After the old patriarch died, and Catherine showed no interest in business, the reins were handed to Richard.

But in this house, Catherine still held the purse strings.

Which meant my strategy was simple: Suck up to Mom.

Human beings die for wealth just as birds die for food. Id treat this like a job.

I gave myself one year. Get ten million cash and the shares, then I resign and vanish.

The next morning, there was a knock on my door.

It was Mrs. Higgins. She said the eldest sister, Harper, was back, and Madam wanted me downstairs.

When I got down, the family was happily distributing gifts Harper had brought back.

Harper saw me and paused, then picked up a gift box from the table and handed it to me. "You must be Wes. This is a gift I brought back from Europe. Its the same as Tristans."

"Thanks," I said politely, taking it.

It seemed she was slightly more decent than Blair.

I opened it. A diamond-encrusted watch.

It looked heavy. Expensive. Harper was generous. She went onto the "Safe List."

Just as I was mentally calculating the resale value, Tristan shouted to someone off to the side, "Margot! Can I come to your birthday party the day after tomorrow?"

I realized there was a stranger sitting on the sofa.

She was beautiful, with an air of effortless arrogance. Old money.

Perhaps sensing my curiosity, Harper introduced her. "This is my best friend, Margot."

Margot turned, her eyes meeting mine.

For a split second, shock flashed through her gaze.

But a moment later, her expression shifted. Her eyes crinkled into a smile, and she waved at me. "Hello there, Wes."

Tristans smile stiffened.

"Oh, Margot," Catherine interjected eagerly. "Tristan cares so much about your birthday. Hes been preparing a gift for months. If you don't invite him, hell be heartbroken for ages!"

Margot smiled politely.

"Sure," she said, her voice cool. "The more the merrier. Harper, bring both your brothers."

Tristan looked at me with disbelief, then forced a smile. "Don't worry, Margot. Well definitely be there!"

After Margot left, Tristans face fell. He sat on the sofa looking like a kicked puppy.

Seeing this, Catherine pulled a black card from her purse and handed it to him. "Don't be sad. She agreed, didn't she? Thats huge progress compared to how she used to treat you."

"Take Moms card and go to the mall. Buy some new clothes, get a facial. Our Tristan is so handsome; youll make sure Margot can't take her eyes off you!"

"Don't worry. The position of Margots husband belongs to our precious Tristan."

He took the card, glancing at Catherine with wide, teary eyes. "Thank you, Mom."

Catherine then noticed me standing there. She looked me up and down, a flicker of awkwardness crossing her face.

"Um... Wes, maybe you should go buy some clothes too?"

I looked at her and said bluntly, "Im broke."

She seemed to remember something, pulled out her phone, and tapped on the screen.

A moment later, my phone buzzed.

Bank notification: Account credited $200,000.

I glanced at the unlimited black card in Tristans hand. Still playing favorites, I see.

I thought for a second, then put on my best pathetic face. "Ive never been to a party like this. I don't know how to dress so I won't embarrass the family. Do I need jewelry?"

Catherine paused.

Then she nodded fervently. "Right, right. This is your debut as a Huntington. You need to look dignified."

She turned and went into her bedroom.

A moment later, she came out holding a velvet box. She opened it in front of me.

Diamond cufflinks. They sparkled so hard I almost squinted.

She handed them to me. "Here. Wear these. I didn't have a welcome gift prepared for you when you came back. Consider this Moms compensation."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tristans face twist in shock and rage.

I suppressed my excitement and took the box with feigned politeness.

For the first time, I called her Mom. "Thank you, Mom."

Hearing that, she beamed so hard I thought her face might crack.

These cufflinks were worth at least half a million.

She wasn't just a mom; she was an ATM. Calling her 'Mom' was the least I could do.