Posting How Cruel My Biological Parents Were Online

Trix's POV

It’d been twenty years since my birth parents left me, and now, out of the blue, they found me.

I was working a quiet little street stand, selling spicy skewers, when Leroy Hurst—my father, apparently—came right up to me. One look, and he knew. I guess the resemblance was hard to miss. Meanwhile, his "heiress," the fake one they'd raised, just glared at me like I’d done something wrong by existing. Leroy, clearly uncomfortable, coughed and took my hand.

"My sweet daughter," he said, "come on home with Dad. No need to suffer anymore."

As my birth family walked back to their car, I whispered into my earpiece to let the director know I was done filming. Then, I packed up my stall and went along with them.

What they didn’t know was that my real identity was I was no small-time vendor, but Trix Kennedy, a rising star worth billions in America.

Leroy held the car door open himself, practically insisting I sit up front beside him. As we started off, he gave me a sideways glance and said, “From now on, you’ll go by the name Alexia Hurst.”

In the rearview mirror, I caught sight of my biological mother, Velma Hurst, and their adopted daughter, Lauren Hurst, sitting silently as stones in the back seat.

Lauren met my eyes and smirked, but I just looked away, not giving her the satisfaction.

When we got to the Hurst mansion, I’d barely stepped one foot inside when Velma stopped me cold. “Hold up! Change out of those filthy shoes first!” she said, tossing me a pair of disposable slippers without a hint of warmth.

Leroy looked back at us and then added, “We’re not on the street anymore; we’ve got standards of cleanliness here.”

I just looked him square in the eye. “Well, that’s how I live outside. If it’s too much for you, I’ll gladly head back to my stand.”

Truth be told, I came back to see what kind of folks they really were. My adoptive parents not only raised me—they set me up as a trainee in one of the West’s biggest entertainment companies. Five years after my debut, I became wildly popular overseas, and my current commercial value had long exceeded a billion. Selling skewers was just a cover for a variety show, a way to understand the grassroots life better as I prepared to expand into the US market.

Seeing I wasn’t about to back down, Leroy’s face darkened, while Lauren sneered with contempt. “How dare you speak to Dad like that? Where are your manners?”

I shot her a look and retorted, “I grew up abandoned on the streets. Just surviving was a blessing. I don’t have the same ‘manners’ as an adoptive daughter who got handed everything.”

My words hit hard, and Leroy and Lauren looked like they’d swallowed lemons. Lauren huffed and clung to Leroy’s arm. “Dad, look! She’s bullying me already!”

Leroy looked flustered, so Lauren turned to Velma. “Mom… If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll go. She’s your real daughter, after all.”

“Nonsense! I raised you myself. To me, you're my real daughter,” Velma replied without hesitation. Suddenly, she faltered, seemingly realizing how those words might sound. But she soon recovered and shot me a cold glance, saying nothing, while Lauren’s eyes sparkled with pride.

Years ago, the Hurst couple left me on the street as a newborn, alone and freezing. Fortunately, my adoptive parents found me just in time; otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. I never knew why they abandoned me; all I knew was that soon after they left me, they adopted the baby girl of their neighbor, the Montgomery family. That girl, born just a few hours after me, was none other than Lauren.