The Cinderella They Sold Was a Billionaire's Heiress

At home, I was the free maid and the money machine.

My grandfather's funeral had barely ended when the whole family swooped in and took the eight hundred thousand dollars he'd left me.

On top of that, my parents wanted to sell me off to a divorced man for a marriage payment so they could buy my brother an apartment, and they wanted me to hand my boyfriend over to my younger sister.

I couldn't understand it. Why did my family treat me this way?

It wasn't until my sister let it slip that I finally learned the truth behind everything.

1

I worked overtime until nine at night, and I'd just dragged myself home, drained.

My brother Morris Pruitt was already yelling at me. "Sis, that graphics card I told you about last time, when are you going to buy it for me?"

"All my friends have upgraded theirs. I'm the only one stuck with an old one. It's humiliating."

I answered flatly, "My paycheck last month just went to rent. I don't have much left."

My mother's face soured. "Rent for what? Is there no room for you in this house?"

"You make eight thousand a month. A thousand for pocket money is plenty. I'll hold on to the rest for you, so you'll have a dowry when you get married someday."

"Did you transfer the seven thousand I told you to send last time? Don't you dare stash money away!"

I couldn't stop myself. "A thousand isn't even enough for my meals and commute—"

Before I could finish, she cut in, impatient. "There's food at home, you won't starve. And how much can a commute cost? Can't you just take a bike share?"

I almost laughed from sheer anger.

Since the day I started working, when had this family ever left food out for me?

My office was dozens of miles from home. How long would it take to get there on a bike share?

That was exactly why I'd chosen to rent a place near work.

If my parents hadn't called today and told me to come back, I'd already be lying in bed at my rental, resting.

Seeing that I didn't respond, my mother's face turned ugly, and she snapped, "Your brother's almost old enough to marry. He needs money for everything. What's wrong with his older sister chipping in?"

"We raised you all these years. Do you know how much of our money that cost?"

"Why can't you learn a little gratitude, feel for us a little?"

All these years, it had always been like this.

My brother's and sister's wants were matters of life and death. My needs made me ungrateful, a nitpicker.

Because I was the eldest daughter, I could only give. I was never allowed to ask for anything back.

Years of swallowed grievance had pushed me to my limit.

And in the very moment I was about to break, my phone suddenly rang. It was the aide caring for my grandfather at the hospital.

Grandpa wouldn't last much longer!

A shudder went through me, and I ran for the hospital as fast as I could.

……

Three days later, the memorial was set up at the old family home, with relatives coming and going in a steady stream.

I knelt before the coffin, burning paper offerings, unable to stop crying.

Grandpa was the only one in this family who truly cared about me. When I was little and my parents beat me or screamed at me, it was Grandpa who slipped me pocket money on the side and took me to the little place at the end of the alley for dumpling soup.

The funeral had just finished, the relatives hadn't fully cleared out, when my parents pulled me into a side room and shut the door behind us.

My mother stared straight at my bag, greedy. "Before your grandfather passed, did he leave you something?"

I shook my head.

My father's face went dark. "Impossible!"

"He loved you most. He definitely gave all his money to you."

"Hand it over now. That kind of money isn't safe in your hands."

Eyes red, I kept shaking my head.

My mother rushed forward in a single step and dug through my bag, dumping my wallet, phone, and keys onto the table.

When she reached the innermost pocket, she pulled out a bank card, and her eyes lit up at once.

She held the card up, thrilled. "Your grandfather gave you this card, didn't he? How much is on it?"

Grandpa had secretly pressed this card into my hand the week before. He said there was eight hundred thousand on it, and I should keep it for myself, a cushion for hard times, and not let my parents find out.

I'd planned to check the balance after the funeral was over. I never imagined they'd be this desperate.

I reached out to grab it back, hurried. "Grandpa left that for me. You can't take it."

My mother sneered. "Yours?"

"We gave birth to you. Your money is this family's money!"

"We're buying your brother a riverside condo, and we're still eight hundred thousand short on the down payment. This covers it perfectly."