My Billionaire Parents Disowned Me

My billionaire parents publicly announced to the high society crowd that I, the biological daughter of the Andrews family, was actually just an adopted child.

Mrs. Gable, our nanny, leaned against the doorframe, stabbing her words directly into my heart.

So what if youve been back for ten years? Your parents look down on you from the bottom of their hearts. The family shares, the company, the real estateeverything belongs to Evie.

"Theyve never missed a single birthday for Evie. But what about yours?"

She sneered, her eyes filled with contempt. "An uncultured country bumpkin like you is only fit to be an adopted daughter who gets nothing."

I said nothing.

But the floating comments in front of my eyes were flashing like crazy:

[Dont believe her! Every time your dad finishes yelling at you, he sits in his study all night! Your mom cried holding your childhood picture at midnight!]

My mind was still stuck on the phrase "gets nothing".

There is no such thing as "unspoken love" in this world.

Where the money is, that's where the love is.

I learned this truth when I was very young.

My father found me in a quiet corner with his assistant. Without a word of explanation, he slapped me across the face.

His face was pale, his voice dripping with impatience.

"Why are you throwing a tantrum here? Is a stupid title really that important to you? Do you have to make us a laughingstock in front of our guests?"

"Rain, I honestly wish you had died out there."

I stumbled and fell against a passing waitress. The wine glasses on her tray shattered onto the floor along with me.

My fathers face stiffened. He coldly ordered the waitress to help me up, then turned around to call the family doctor.

Listening to his anxious voice, I felt dazed for a moment.

[Look, your dad's eyes are red! He must feel so guilty. He wishes the doctor could fly here right now to treat your wound. And this dressyour mom picked it out specifically for you!]

[They were angry at you for being disappointing, but seeing you hurt, they couldn't help but feel heartbroken. What a great pair of parents!]

My father turned around to say something, but his assistant, Mark, stopped him.

"Sir, Mrs. Andrews and Evie are waiting for you to cut the cake."

The tension on his face instantly melted into a warm smile. When he looked back at me, his eyes had returned to their usual coldness.

"Forget it. If you don't want to go in, then don't."

"You look like a mess anyway. Going in would only embarrass us. Go back to your room."

Before leaving, he thought of something and pointed toward the back of the house.

"If you're hungry, go make something in the servants' kitchen. Don't show your face in the front yard."

I lowered my head, whispered an agreement, and walked toward the small kitchen.

This was the kitchen reserved for the house staff.

Because of the massive party these past few days, the servants had been eating in the main hall. No fresh groceries had been bought for this kitchen.

Inside the fridge, there was only stale, molded food. It looked utterly revolting.

My stomach burned with hunger. I reached out to grab the only decent-looking dish left, but a few flies landed on it. The sight made me sick to my stomach.

"Forget it. I'm not eating."

I clutched my stomach and turned around, only to run right into my glittering, diamond-adorned mother.

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at me with disgust.

"Was the food in the banquet hall not enough for you? Are you a starving ghost? Or are you trying to make our guests think Arthur and I are abusing you?"

She glanced at my hand clutching my stomach.

"What? Did you overeat? How did I end up with a daughter like you?"

[Her mom was worried and came looking for her, only to see her daughter scavenging for food in the servants' kitchen!]

[No wonder shes disliked. On such an important day, she has no sense of propriety. Can't she just bear a little hunger?]

I ignored the floating comments. I stiffened my posture and walked past her toward my room.

Behind me, my mother muttered a few more curses before hurrying away in her high heels.

When I reached my room, the sound of fireworks boomed outside.

I looked up through the window. The brilliant lights in the night sky formed words: "Happy Birthday, Evie."

Evie. That was supposed to be my name. And today was my birthday, too.

My stomach pain grew sharper. The cut from the shattered wine glass was oozing blood.

I sat on the cold floor, pulled out my battered old phone, curled my legs tightly, and played a birthday song.

Happy birthday to me.

I was brought back to this family when I was twelve.

My parents didn't like me.

But the floating comments kept telling me they just didn't know how to interact with me. They said blood is thicker than water, and no parents could ever hate their own child.

Just like the first time we met. They looked at my shrinking, timid posture and spoke with disgust.

"Greet us. Why are you so rude?"

"This child is too cowardly. She can never handle big responsibilities."

I gripped my sleeves, my whole body trembling.

Then, the floating comments appeared for the first time.

[Is this the real daughter? She looks so unlikable and gloomy.]

[Why hasn't she noticed that her mom's eyes are swollen from crying? Her dad is so nervous he keeps checking his watch. They're just too tense, so they use criticism to hide their affection. In reality, they want nothing more than to run over and hug her!]

I froze. I quietly observed their micro-expressions. Finding that they matched the comments, I ran forward crying and hugged them.

"Mom, Dad."

My mother's eyes welled with tears. My father kept a stern face.

"It's good that you're back. Remember, children of the Andrews family do not cry."

They drummed this rule into my head for ten years.

Until the year I graduated.

I was at a restaurant celebrating with my classmates when a gas explosion tore through the shopping mall.

The flames roared, and everyone ran for their lives. Because of my chronic malnutrition, I was knocked to the ground by the stampeding crowd.

Surrounded by fire, I saw my fathers silhouette rushing in, and I heard my mothers desperate screams.

When I woke up, my mother was draped over my hospital bed. For a woman who was always perfectly put together, her eyes were swollen, and her clothes were a mess.

My eyes welled with tears of gratitude. But my father, who was working on his laptop in the corner, looked up with deep disapproval.

"Why do you always bring trouble to us? Why can't you be more like Evie? Just stay home quietly."

"From now on, you are not allowed to go out without my permission."

The tears spilled onto my wrists. I let out a bitter smile.

There was no comfort. No hug. Only a barrage of accusations.

But I couldn't have predicted the explosion. I had only gone out with friends to buy a thank-you gift for my parents.

Forget it. It didn't matter anymore.

The comments kept scrolling.

[Oh my god, don't believe his cold words! Your parents ran to the mall like madmen when they heard you were trapped!]

[Theyve been watching over you for days. Hes only saying this because hes terrified of losing you again. If you don't believe me, look at your dad. He hasn't shaved in days!]

[They already lost you once. They can't bear to lose you again!]

I strained to lift my head, but I only saw his hurried back as he walked out of the room.

After that day, I stopped looking at what they did or listening to what they said.

I clung desperately to those floating comments, feeding on the tiny drops of love hidden between the lines.

I told myself they really loved me.

They must love me, otherwise, why would they bring me home and give me this luxurious life?

But love has tiers.

They were business people. And business people never make a losing investment.

Compared to Evie, who was clever, elegant, and beloved by everyone, I was like a swamp rat.

I couldn't understand the financial reports of the company, nor could I master their elite social etiquette.

Even at a simple high-society tea party, I couldn't bring any pride to my mother.

Gradually, my fathers eyes turned to complete disappointment. My mother felt embarrassed to even walk beside me.

To save face, they simply gave up on announcing my true identity. They let Evie remain the public's one and only "biological" daughter of the Andrews family.

I cried silently at night. The comments told me that in billionaire families, interests and alliances were the most important things.

They said Evie was just a tool for business alliances. They told me to be understanding.

But I couldn't understand. I couldn't accept that my own parents were letting a thief steal my life.

Yet, that was the reality.

Once I saw the truth, I became quieter and quieter. No matter how they treated me, I submitted to it all.

I thought as long as I stayed in this house, I still had parents.

But now, I was truly exhausted.

What didn't belong to me would never be mine.

The birthday song played on a loop. I stood up and began packing my bags.

Over the years, my parents' eyes had been entirely on Evie. They rarely bought anything for me.

A single backpack was enough to hold all my belongings.

It was so pathetic it made me want to laugh.

Just as I was about to walk out, Mark knocked on my door.

"Rain, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews had too much to drink at the party. They want you to make them some soup."

[Theyre using the drunk excuse to give you a way out! Don't be stubborn, Rain. Go see them.]

[She's the only one who can make these powerful billionaires bend their knees!]

The comments were deeply moved.

After all, when did the great Arthur Andrews and his wife ever bow their heads to anyone?

If they wanted soup, a hundred people would line up to make it for them.

I used to think like the comments, too.

But now, I just found it incredibly tedious.

"I'm sorry. I'm exhausted and need to rest. If they want soup, tell them to ask the chef."

Not long after Mark left, my door was kicked open.

Reeking of alcohol, my father stood there, glaring at me with displeasure.

"I provide you with food, shelter, and everything you could want. And now, when I ask you to do one simple thing, you refuse?"

My mother looked past him at my backpack. Her face was lined with exhaustion. "Rain, why do you have to be so difficult? We already agreed on the identity issue. What are you throwing a fit for now?"

Following her gaze, my father spotted the backpack. He strode over, grabbed it, and slammed it hard onto the floor.

"If you hate this family so much, why did you even bother coming back? Stop throwing these pathetic tantrums!"

Evie, who had followed them, gasped in dramatic fright. She quickly grabbed my father's sleeve, speaking in a soft, sweet voice.

"Dad, don't blame Rain. It's my fault. I stole her identity."

She then turned to look at me.

"I'm so sorry, Rain. It's all my fault. Please don't fight with Mom and Dad. Dad even got a special cake just for you."

She waved her hand toward the door. Mrs. Gable walked in holding a gorgeous cake covered in a thick layer of fresh strawberries.

My childhood trauma instantly flashed in my mind. I swiped my hand, slamming the cake to the floor.

The white cream splashed everywhere, staining their expensive shoes and designer clothes.

"Rain! Have you lost your mind?!"

My fathers face contorted in rage. He raised his hand and slapped me again.

"Your sister and mother went out of their way to get this cake for you! Who do you think you are, throwing a tantrum like this?!"

This time, metallic-tasting blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

Evies face turned pale with faux terror.

"Mom, look at Dad..."

Tears welled in her eyes as she whimpered and hid in my mother's arms.

I stared at the bright red strawberries mashed on the floor. I crouched down and began to gag, tears streaming down my face.

"Have you all forgotten what my foster parents did for a living?"

My childhood was a nightmare of being forced to gorge on rotten, unsold strawberries from the Harpers' failing farm.

My mother's breath hitched. She averted her eyes, unable to look. My father, however, only looked down at me coldly.

"Youre just too petty. That's why you can't let go of the past. It's just a cake. I didn't force you to eat actual strawberries."

Didn't he?

I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood, forcing back the tears.

[Oh my god, the parents must feel so guilty! They wanted to make it up to her with a cake, but it triggered her trauma.]

[I seriously can't stand her. Her parents weren't the ones who forced her to eat strawberries. Why is she blaming them for everything?]

[They already lowered themselves to apologize. Can't the female lead just make peace? I want to see a heartwarming family reunion!]

The comments were unanimous in their condemnation of me.

Yes, they weren't the ones who forced me to eat those strawberries.

But they were the ones who lost me in the first place.

I wiped my face, stood up in silence, picked up my backpack, and organized my things.

My father took a step toward me, but Evie suddenly screamed and stumbled backward.

"This... this news... Rain, are you trying to ruin me?"

"What is it?"

My mother caught her, looking at the phone in Evies hand. Her expression changed instantly.

"Rain! Who gave you permission to leak your identity to the press? How dare you! Do you have any idea how much trouble this will cause the family?"

"Since the day you came back, your father and I have treated you and Evie equally. We have never wronged you. You... you utterly disappoint me."

My fathers eyes widened as he glanced at the screen. He pointed a trembling finger at my face.

"You ungrateful beast! Do you honestly think blackmailing me like this will make me acknowledge you publicly?"

I looked straight into his eyes and smiled.

"If you want to believe I did it, then so be it."

They stared at me in shock.

My mother opened her mouth, but she couldn't squeeze out a single word.

[The parents must be so heartbroken. Do you know how much money and time theyll have to spend to clean up this PR disaster? And the traitor is their own daughter!]

[Rain, just apologize! They will forgive you!]

Apologize? I was done apologizing.

I swung the backpack over my shoulder, walked past my mother, and headed straight for the door.

"You're right. Coming back to this family was a mistake. Now, I'm correcting that mistake."

The room fell dead silent.

Evie rushed forward and grabbed my arm, sobbing hysterically.

"I'm sorry, Rain! I never wanted to steal anything from you! I just didn't want to leave Mom and Dad. This is the only home I've ever known!"

"Please don't leave! If you leave, theyll be heartbroken. Let me be the one to leave!"

I turned my head. I caught the brief, triumphant smirk on her face right before she threw herself dramatically onto the floor.

"Evie!"

My mother screamed, dropping to the floor to cradle her.

My father stood beside them, glaring at me with pure hatred.

"Get out! If you walk out of this door today, I will consider myself to have no such daughter!"

With that, he turned his back on me and knelt to comfort Evie.

The comments in front of my eyes were scrolling at a manic speed.

[How could the female lead say something so heartless? Things are already chaotic enough, and she's still stabbing her parents in the heart!]

[A child who wasn't raised by her parents really can't be tamed. Can't she tell her dad is just speaking out of anger?]

[Rain, turn back! Your parents are watching you! As long as you turn around, everything will be fine!]

Fine?

More than twenty years of crushing pain had accumulated on my shoulders, suffocating me.

If they truly loved me, they wouldn't have treated me with coldness, accusations, and the systematic stripping of my identity.

I was a human being, not a lump of clay they could mold and discard at will.

Stepping out of the mansion, I took a deep, long breath.

The night air was crisp and clear. I could smell the faint scent of expensive food lingering from the banquet.

Only after leaving the Andrews estate did I realize that it wasn't raining outside.

[Whatever, let her go. Why can't she understand? They raised Evie since she was a baby. How can you expect them to just cut those emotional ties?]

[If it were my family, I'd probably love the adopted daughter more, too. It's just human nature. You can't force these things.]

[It's good that she's gone. Having her around the house was like having a miserable rat constantly dampening everyone's happiness.]

I didn't bother reading those brain-dead comments anymore.

Smiling, I walked out of the heavy iron gates, out of the elite gated community, and out of my pathetic past life.