Chapter 1My long-lost billionaire parents CRIED bringing me home, but didn't give me a damn cent.
I wanted to ask for living expense.
But... what if they thought I was only after their money? What if they sent me back?
So I shut up.
Class by day. Dumpster-diving by night. Free soup to survive.
When winter hit, my dorm was a freezer.
Desperate, I went home for an old quilt the fake heiress didn't want.
My brother kicked over my bag. Smirked.
"Seriously? Stealing Elara's leftovers now?"
"One month in, and you're already robbing us blind."
I apologized immediately. Definitely couldn't ask for money now.
To scrape together meal money, I washed dishes till my hands BLED.
Then Elara stormed up. Slapped me hard.
"I gave you EVERYTHING—my identity, my room, my parents!"
"You blew eighty million, and it's still not enough? Why'd you freeze my card?"
I froze.
Eighty million?
My bank account had $6.30.
What the hell?! Who stole my money?
Whoever did this is going DOWN.
...
The day after the reunion dinner, Mom and Dad flew overseas.
Before leaving, Mom held me and cried for a long time.
"You've suffered for nineteen years, baby."
"From now on, buy whatever you want. Don't hold back."
I didn't dare tell her I hadn't really suffered much.
My adoptive dad died early.
Rita ran a BBQ food truck by herself, had a temper sure, but never let me go hungry.
Before I came to the Blackwells, she stuffed two thousand dollars in my hand and told me over and over:
"Don't flex if you're rich. Don't beg if you're broke. Nobody respects that."
I burned that into my brain.
So when Mom asked if I had enough money, I stood up straight.
"Plenty."
My brother Grayson smiled.
"Dad, Mom, don't worry."
"Kaia just got home. She doesn't know how things work yet. I'll take care of her."
Mom nodded, relieved.
Three days later, I swiped my card at the dining hall.
The machine let out a sharp beep.
Insufficient funds.
Figured the Blackwells sent money at the end of the month, so I loaded five hundred from what Rita gave me.
But college was a money pit.
Watching my wallet get thinner, I wanted to slap myself at midnight—why didn't I just ask for more money?
At the end of the month, Professor Hayes posted work-study positions in the class group.
Library assistant. Twenty bucks an hour.
I signed up immediately.
Professor Hayes called me into her office.
"Kaia, are you having financial trouble?"
I nodded reluctantly.
"Things are kind of tight right now."
Her expression turned complicated.
"Your brother just donated five million to the school."
"With your name on it."
My head started buzzing. I hesitated before asking.
"Professor, can that money be... taken back?"
She stared at me in disbelief.
"What did you just say?"
"If not all of it, could I at least get eight hundred back? I don't have meal money for next month."
Professor Hayes stared at me for a long time, then called Grayson.
Ten minutes later, his car pulled up outside the building.
In front of Professor Hayes, Grayson handed me a card.
"Kaia, didn't I tell you?"
"You need something, just tell me. The family won't let you go without."
"You applying for work-study makes it look like the Blackwells can't even take care of their own daughter."
He turned to Professor Hayes with a gentle smile.
"She grew up without much. Old habits die hard."
"If she needs anything, contact me directly. The Blackwells will cover all expenses."
Professor Hayes's expression finally softened.
"Your brother really looks out for you."
I wanted to crawl under the desk. Withdrew my application fast.
As soon as I left the office, I checked the card at an ATM.
Balance: zero.
Thought I read it wrong. I checked again.
Still ZERO.
I texted Grayson.
"Bro, I think there's no money on the card."
Half an hour later, he finally replied.
"Kaia, you just got back to the Blackwell family. Stop talking about money all the time."
I stared at those words. My face burned.
He was right. I shouldn't have asked about money right away.
What if they thought I was only after their money?
So I started collecting cardboard boxes around the dorm.
Water bottles: three cents each.
Cardboard: seventy cents a pound.
When someone bought a computer, their box could sell for over two bucks.
After a week, I'd saved forty-seven dollars and fifty cents.
The recycling guy saw my dirty hands and couldn't help asking.
"Kid, doesn't your family take care of you?"
I shot back immediately.
"They do! My brother even donated five million to my school in MY name."
The old man went quiet for a long time, then quietly gave me two extra bottles.
That night, Grayson posted photos in the family chat.
Limited edition jewelry. Custom gowns. Private lesson booking receipts.
Total: three point two seven million.
He tagged Mom and Dad.
"Got everything Kaia wanted."
"She's not used to this kind of lifestyle before. Been spending without thinking. I'll teach her how to manage it slowly."
Mom replied right away.
"Girls can buy whatever they want. Don't let Kaia feel deprived."
Dad sent him more money again.
"Grayson, you're a good brother. Keep looking after her."
I looked down at my nine-dollar socks.
One of them even had a hole in the heel.
So this was what being extravagant looked like.
Chapter 2
The next day, temperatures suddenly dropped twelve degrees.
And the dorm heating broke.
Middle of the night, I piled both my jackets on top of my blanket, but I was still shivering so hard my teeth chattered.
My roommate woke up to the sound of my teeth grinding.
Half-asleep, she mumbled.
"Don't you live in the city? Just go home and grab a thicker blanket."
After class, I took two buses back to the Blackwell estate.
The fingerprint lock beeped three times.
Access denied every time.
Finally, Donna, the housekeeper heard the noise and came to let me in.
"Miss Kaia, what brings you back?"
"I need a blanket."
Donna glanced at my red nose from the cold.
"Why not just buy a new one?"
"Old ones are warmer."
Plus free.
I found a thick comforter in the storage room.
Stuffed it into my cardboard collection bag. Was about to leave when I heard footsteps behind me.
Grayson was back.
Two relatives were with him.
The moment he saw the bag in my hand, his smile faded.
"What are you doing in Elara's room?"
"My dorm is freezing. Just grabbing a blanket she doesn't want. I'll bring it back in a few days."
One of the aunts covered her mouth, laughing.
"Kaia, the Blackwells can't spare you one blanket?"
"If word gets out, people will think we're mistreating you."
I rushed to explain.
"No, I just thought it'd be a waste to throw out."
Grayson yanked the bag away. His expression went cold.
"Didn't I give you a card?"
"That card's empty."
My voice was barely audible.
But he still frowned.
"Kaia, why are you talking about money again?"
My face burned.
"I'm not asking for money. Just explaining."
He sighed, wearing the long-suffering expression of an older brother who didn't know what to do with his sister.
"You just got back. Mom and Dad want to give you everything."
"Jewelry, gowns, lessons—over three million in one month."
"And you're still carrying trash bags around. What are people supposed to think?"
Aunt Patricia chimed in.
"You need to be grateful."
"Just because you're blood doesn't mean the whole family owes you."
I looked down.
"Sorry."
Grayson's tone softened.
"I'm not blaming you."
"You grew up poor. Makes sense you're always thinking about money."
"But the Blackwells aren't broke. Stop doing these embarrassing things."
He tossed the blanket back in the closet.
"This belongs to Elara."
"You want it, at least ask her first."
"But Donna said she doesn't want it anymore."
"Just because she doesn't want it doesn't mean you can take it."
I didn't argue.
When he'd yanked the bag, he'd accidentally crushed three plastic bottles under his shoe.
I crouched down and picked them up, putting them back in my bag.
Aunt Patricia snorted.
"Spends three million without blinking, now she's on the floor picking up nine cents' worth of bottles."
"This kid really knows how to budget."
Grayson laughed too.
"She's just immature."
"Don't hold it against her."
He sounded so gentle and reasonable.
As if I really was some spoiled brat who'd blown three million, then threw a tantrum by collecting trash.
Before I left, Grayson stopped me.
"Kaia, Mom and Dad have an important deal going."
"Don't bother them with petty stuff like this."
"They brought you home to be family. Not so you could beg for handouts every day."
I nodded.
"Got it."
Then went back to school empty-handed and spent all night searching job apps.
Regular part-time work didn't pay enough.
Finally, I found a cold storage warehouse.
Night shift sorting. Forty bucks an hour.
The freezer was minus four degrees, and the gloves they gave us were thin and stiff.
Box after box of frozen meat. My fingers hurt at first, then slowly went numb.
Six AM, I got my two hundred eighty dollars.
Enough to eat for two weeks.
I was so happy I wanted to tell Rita the good news.
But if she found out I was working overnight shifts, she'd take a train here and beat my ass.
So I went to the break room to warm my hands first.
Just as I reached the door, a suitcase swung across and slammed into my knee.
Before I could steady myself, someone slapped me hard across the face.
Elara stood in front of me, eyes red.
Still wearing that expensive coat. Two packed suitcases at her feet.
"Kaia! I gave you EVERYTHING! My identity, my room, my parents!"
"You blew eighty million and it's still not enough? Why'd you freeze my card?"
"School kicked me out of my dorm—you trying to kill me?!"
Chapter 3
I covered my face and stood there for a long moment, unable to process what had just happened.
After spending all night in the freezer, my skin had gone numb.
"I've NEVER seen eighty million."
Elara threw her phone at me.
On the screen was a transfer notification.
[Ms. Kaia Blackwell Personal Growth Fund: $80,000,000. Account transfer complete.]
My electronic signature was at the bottom.
I stared at those three words for a long time.
"I didn't sign this."
Elara let out a cold laugh.
"Next you'll say you didn't spend the $3.27 million either?"
"I didn't."
I handed her my bank card.
"Check it yourself."
She grabbed the card and dragged me to the ATM by the warehouse entrance.
The balance popped up.
$6.30.
Elara's face froze for a second.
"Stop acting!"
"There's no way you could have kept eighty million dollars in this one account."
"You already moved it somewhere else!"
She grabbed my phone and forced me to open my banking app.
Three cards.
One with $6.30.
One with zero.
One that'd been frozen for inactivity—no transactions in six months.
Elara scrolled down and saw my transaction history.
Two-dollar bus fare.
Fifty cents for a plastic bag.
Three-fifty for shoe glue.
The biggest transaction was five hundred dollars loaded onto my meal card.
Her finger paused for a few seconds.
I thought she finally believed me.
Instead, she threw my phone back at me.
"You really came prepared."
"Play poor on the surface, hide the money in other accounts, right?"
"You took my room, my identity, my parents."
"Now I don't even have a place to live and you want me to believe you only have six dollars?!"
Warehouse workers started gathering around.
Someone recognized Elara. Whispered asking if she was the fake Blackwell heiress.
The girl behind her immediately held up her phone.
"Everyone look at this."
"Real heiress comes home for one month, freezes the adopted daughter's card, gets her kicked out of her dorm."
That's when I realized—she'd been livestreaming the whole time.
Camera pointed right at my cracked hands and soaked work uniform.
Comments flew by.
[Got eighty million and working in a freezer? Who's she performing for?]
[Real heiress is disgusting.]
[[She stole the place of the girl who was raised for nineteen years, then drives her out. Sick.]
I leaned toward the screen.
"I didn't kick her out. I'm living in a dorm too."
The girl with the phone sneered.
"You spent three million in one month. What dorm you living in?"
"Presidential suite dorm?"
Everyone burst out laughing.
Elara held up a receipt to the camera, eyes red.
"I didn't want to fight her. Mom and Dad gave her back her identity. I accepted it."
"But that eighty million—Mom and Dad promised it to me."
"Why does she have to take the last thing I had left?"
People started yelling for me to give the money back.
My frozen fingers gripped the bank card.
"The money's not with me. If you don't believe me, call the cops."
"Find out where the money went. If it's in my name, I'll give back every cent."
The girl next to Elara suddenly shoved me.
"Don't threaten us with cops."
My sole was peeling off. No money for new shoes. So I stapled it.
With her push, the staple in my shoe drove straight into my foot.
I stumbled backward into a shelf.
The shelf wobbled twice.
Top row of imported seafood gift boxes came crashing down.
Foam containers split open. Glass jars shattered everywhere.
The manager, Mr. Rodriguez, came running out. His face went white.
"This batch can't be refrozen!"
"Forty-eight thousand dollars—all ruined!"
The girl who pushed me pointed at me immediately.
"She ran into it herself."
I gritted my teeth and forced myself upright.
"You pushed me."
"Proof?"
She waved her phone.
"Livestream only shows you hitting the shelf."
Mr. Rodriguez blocked the exit.
"Nobody leaves till this is sorted out."
Forty-eight thousand dollars.
I made two hundred eighty a night.
Even without eating or drinking, I'd have to work over seventeen hundred nights.
Elara crossed her arms, tears still on her face.
"Kaia, I'm giving you one last chance."
"Admit the eighty million is yours. Unfreeze my card."
"I'll figure out the forty-eight thousand for you."
"Otherwise I'm calling the cops right now."
I pulled out my phone.
A message from Grayson popped up on the screen.
"I saw the livestream."
Next second, he joined the stream and posted a pinned comment.
"Kaia, Elara's been through enough. Stop making a scene."
Right after that, Mr. Rodriguez's email pinged with an incoming document.
Grayson's voice came through the phone, gentle as ever.
"As long as Kaia signs the fund confirmation form acknowledging she received the eighty million."
"I'll cover the warehouse damages."
Everyone turned to look at me.
Mr. Rodriguez handed me the printed document and a pen.
I looked down at the single line on the confirmation form.
"I, Kaia Blackwell, confirm that I have received the full amount of $80,000,000."
Sign my name and avoid forty-eight thousand in damages.
No matter how you looked at it, good deal.
But Rita always told me: being poor is fine.
Don't take money you've never seen. Don't admit to things you didn't do.
I put down the pen.
"I'm not signing."
