I’m a born actress. I only ever wanted the big bucks and the fancy life—not an ounce of genuine affection. I went from being a nameless orphan to the daughter of a billionaire. But before my butt could even warm the seat, the Grant family supposedly went bust. I was packing my bags, ready to bail, when I overheard the doctor tell my 'dad,' "Aren't you afraid of breaking the kid's heart..." Without a second thought, I spun around and rushed into the room, hugging my 'mom.' "Mom, I don't care if we're poor. Don't worry, I'll take care of you both." Poor for a while versus poor forever—I, Clara Reed, know how to run the numbers. I glanced at the expensive watch under Dad's cheap shirt sleeve—a watch that could buy half the block—and offered a silent, shallow smile. 1 I dragged my leaden legs back to the dumpy little rental apartment. Clutching the hundred dollars in sweat-soaked cash from my extra work, I raced to the pharmacy for Dad’s imported meds. Then, I detoured to that ridiculously upscale French patisserie and bought Mom’s favorite raspberry tart. That tiny thing cost me hours of background acting pay. I pushed the door open. Dad was slumped on the sofa, his face ashen, the collar of his cheap cotton tee stretched out. Mom sat beside him, her eyes vacant. I handed over the medicine and the fancy little box, forcing my most demure smile. "Dad, your meds. Mom, your favorite." "Clara, you…" Mom looked at my sweaty, haggard appearance, then at the nasty scratch on my arm. Her eyes instantly welled up. "It's nothing, Mom." I waved it off, making my voice sound deliberately tired and hoarse. "I rushed back. Didn't want you guys to worry." I quickly poured water for Dad to take his pill. In the process, the wound on my arm accidentally scraped the corner of the table, making me hiss in pain. "Oh, honey! You're hurt that badly, and you didn't say anything!" Mom jumped up in a panic. Dad struggled to sit up. "Quick, take care of it!" I pulled away. "Honestly, it's fine. Just a scratch. If you two are okay, I’m relieved." Out of the corner of my eye, I perfectly caught the sight of that expensive watch—a watch that could buy half the neighborhood—peeking out from beneath Dad's threadbare sleeve. I lowered my gaze, hiding the brief, fleeting smile on my lips. Broke? Yep. This is a massive setup. 2 I, Clara Reed, am a born actress. I only seek wealth and glory, not a single shred of true feeling. When I was five, the first old woman who found me wanted me to be a child bride for her simple-minded grandson in exchange for scraps of spoiled food. At her worst, she even grabbed a stick, threatening to break my hand and throw me out to beg. I used my brilliant acting to lull her into a false sense of security, called the police, and identified her as a trafficker. Watching her get handcuffed, I felt nothing. Then, I was sent to the orphanage. Director Chen acted like a saint but was a monster behind closed doors. When the whip came down, I didn't cry or fight. Instead, I became her most 'loyal' little shadow. I knew that in a place like that, you had to cling to the most powerful person just to breathe. When the big-shot officials came to inspect, the rebellious kids who usually got the worst beatings were locked in a pitch-black storage room. I followed the Director everywhere, pouring tea and water, smiling sweetly and timidly. While pouring, I 'accidentally' hiked up my washed-out, old sleeve, revealing the crisscrossing scars of old lashings. A sharp-eyed official asked what happened. I immediately yanked my sleeve down, shaking my head like a bobblehead, my voice trembling just right. "N-Nothing. I fell. Mother Director... Mother Director is so good to us!" The officials exchanged glances, their eyes filled with pity: This child is clearly too terrified to speak. I subtly let my eyes drift, guiding them to the tightly locked storage room… The day the police took Director Chen away, the entire orphanage felt like Christmas. A bully named Terry apologized to me, red-faced, saying he’d misunderstood me. I rubbed my arm where he used to shove me and smiled radiantly. "Apologize for what? I'm not a good person, you know." They burst into laughter, swarming me. "Clara is joking again!" See? My acting is so good that when I tell the truth, no one believes me. I somehow became the 'light' in their hearts. Later, the news coverage of the 'uncovering' of the abuse featured my wide-eyed, terrified, bare face. A scout noticed me, and I stepped into show business. The money wasn't great, but at least I wasn't worried about my next meal. That is, until the billionaire Grant family tracked me down and brought me home. The father-daughter bonding act had barely started when Dad burst into tears and announced bankruptcy, immediately 'fainting.' Heh. My acting skills must be hereditary. 3 In the luxurious walk-in closet, I deftly slipped the last diamond necklace into my bag. I never got to enjoy this wealth. Why should I stick around to suffer with them? My attendance is excused. I crept past the study. Through the crack in the door, Dad’s voice sounded weak, yet laced with an unidentifiable undertone. His doctor friend, who was always on call, was there too. The doctor sighed. "Aren't you afraid of breaking the kid's heart…" The rest of the conversation was fragmented, but that sentence hit me hard. My steps suddenly froze. My mind instantly replayed Dad's overly dramatic hand-to-the-chest gesture before he 'fainted.' In a flash, one thought became crystal clear—A test! This was their test for me! Authentic human emotion might fail a test like this, but my acting? My acting is flawless. Grant Family Method Acting. Show time! I decisively kicked the packed bag into a corner and spun toward the master bedroom. Mom was staring out the window, her back looking desolate. "Mom!" I rushed over, my voice hoarse, as if from crying, and hugged her tightly. "I'm not leaving! I'm not going anywhere. No matter how bad things get, I'll stay with you. I don't care if we're poor, I'll take care of you and Dad!" The tears came on command, scalding her silk nightgown. I looked up, my eyes filled with reckless determination. Mom’s body stiffened, then began to tremble violently. She hugged me back, sobbing uncontrollably, a flash of reluctance in her eyes. "Clara… my Clara…" I felt the warmth of her embrace, and with my face buried in her shoulder, my lips curled up infinitesimally—a movement unseen by anyone. Poor for a while versus poor forever. I, Clara Reed, knew exactly which was the better deal. 4 Back in the rental apartment, Mom was still choked up, moved by the fact that I’d bought her the dessert despite being broke. I casually walked to the large window and pulled back a corner of the heavy curtain. Downstairs, a few burly men in black T-shirts had gathered. But the man leading them stood out. Lean but clearly muscled, he wore a nice, dark, casual suit. His eyes were calm like a deep pool, lacking any menace, yet commanding a silent control. That air of calculated certainty only made the atmosphere more tense. A layered test, huh? They even hired 'debt collectors'? So realistic! "Mom," I whispered, "Someone seems to be outside… it doesn't sound good. Don't make a sound." Mom’s face went white. She nodded frantically. The knocking soon turned into brutal pounding. "BANG! BANG! BANG!" The rental apartment door groaned under the assault. "Who is it?!" Mom finally cried out, trying to stop it. Too late! The moment the door splintered open, I 'just happened' to be standing right behind it, 'frantically' trying to brace it with my body! A massive force slammed the door! "CRASH!" A dull, sickening thud. The door hit me square on. A sharp, explosive pain shot through my nose! A warm liquid instantly gushed out. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The door was completely broken open. A tall, aloof man strode in first. He didn't spare a glance for me, who was clutching my nose with blood seeping through my fingers. His gaze, sharp as a knife, swept past my terrified mother. His voice was cold enough to form ice. "Mom, are you okay?!" "Ethan!" Mom rushed forward, shielding me. The pain in my nose made my vision swim, and tears streamed out—a purely physical reaction. Worth it. This self-inflicted misery act is completely worth it.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "386920", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel