Everyone knew my billionaire husband was two decades older. He married me to manage his kids. Learning he’d rarely be home, give me ten million monthly, and that I wouldn’t need children, I agreed instantly. My stepson Lucas skipped school for games. I bought his arcade and stayed up, winning all his allowance. My stepdaughter Maya adored a pop star. I paid her idol to give me a foot massage at our mansion, crushing her illusions. Just as we grew close, warnings flashed like comments on my life: “The real heroine, the long-lost daughter, is returning.” “The kids will turn on the stepmom for their real mother.” “Stepmom ends up on the streets, fighting dogs for scraps.” So someone wants to steal my inheritance? Let’s see if my ‘managed’ husband and these kids side with her. I tossed my Hermès scarf into the fireplace, beckoning Lucas and Maya. “Minions, find all your dad’s hidden cash. Tonight, we’re blowing every cent at the club—nothing left for that gold digger.” … My command, and the two figures previously slumped on the sofa, sprang to attention like startled springs. Lucas’s eyes gleamed like a hungry wolf. “Are you talking about the black card the old man hid in the ceiling compartment of his study?” Maya, without a word, tossed her nail polish aside. “And the gold bars he stashed in his old shoes in the walk-in closet!” I nodded, pleased. They truly were his children; they knew his hiding spots better than I did. “Take it all. Tonight’s on Lucas, my treat for you all!” The comments section exploded. “Is this stepmom insane? She’s about to be kicked out with nothing and she’s still pulling stunts?” “The true heroine is at the doorstep, she’s got a DNA test! This stepmom is just having her last hurrah.” “Wait till Mr. Mulvey comes back and sees the house ransacked. He’ll throw this evil woman out for sure!” I smirked, looking at the half-burnt Hermès scarf I’d just rescued from the fire. If I was going to be the wicked stepmother, I might as well act the part. Ten minutes later, Lucas clutched the black card, Maya hugged the gold bars, both beaming with an unprecedented, filial glow. “Mom, which club are we going to? I want the most expensive male escorts!” Maya looked at me eagerly. “The most exclusive one in all of New York. Tonight, we drink till we drop, and I’ll send your… cheap dad our location.” I waved my hand grandly, leading my two "unfilial children" out. No sooner had we left than a taxi pulled up to the villa. A woman in a white dress, tears streaming down her face like pearly rain, stepped out. It was none other than the legendary true heroine, Emily Sterling. She looked at the empty villa, the heartfelt reunion speech she’d prepared stuck in her throat. The comments section was full of question marks. “Where are they? Didn’t they say everyone was waiting to welcome the heroine?” “Where’s the family?” Meanwhile, my two stepchildren and I were in the most luxurious private room in New York. The table was laden with expensive imported liquor, and two rows of male escorts, more handsome than any idol trainee, stood before us. Lucas was busy popping champagne, Maya was busy picking out the hottest guys. I slumped on the sofa, looking at the dozens of missed calls from Julian Mulvey on my phone, then promptly turned it off. Want me to leave with nothing? Dream on. Emily did have some tricks up her sleeve. She actually managed to find the club. The moment the private room door swung open, I was holding a microphone, belting out a duet of “The Big Sedan Chair” with Lucas. Maya was directing three male escorts to peel grapes for her. Emily stood in the doorway, half her white dress soaked from the rain outside, looking like a pitiful white flower caught in a storm. It was a stark contrast to our wild, chaotic scene. The comments section went into a frenzy. “Waaah, the heroine is so pitiful, her real children are right there but they don’t recognize her.” “These two kids have been corrupted by the stepmom. Coming to a place like this at such a young age. Of course, she wouldn’t care since they’re not her own.” “Look, the heroine is crying! The kids must have a psychic connection!” Emily’s eyes immediately reddened, tears flowing on cue. “Lucas, Maya… I’m your mother.” Her cry of “mother” was filled with such sorrow it would break anyone’s heart. The music screeched to a halt. Lucas still held the champagne bottle, staring blankly at the woman in the doorway. Maya still had half a grape in her mouth. I raised an eyebrow, said nothing, just took a bite of watermelon. Seeing no one respond, Emily gritted her teeth and rushed forward, trying to hug Lucas. “My child, Mommy missed you so much. Mommy had her reasons back then…” “Stop!” Lucas deftly dodged, retreating behind me. “Lady, who are you? You reek of poverty. Don’t get your stench on my limited-edition hoodie.” Emily froze, staring at her biological son in disbelief. “I’m your real mother! Don’t you remember? When you were little, you loved Mommy’s braised pork.” “I don’t like braised pork. Dad does.” Lucas cut her off mercilessly, rolling his eyes. “And now I only eat lobster and king crab. Can you afford to buy them for me?” Emily’s face paled, and she instinctively clutched the hem of her dress. She had just returned to the country; where would she get the money for such things? The comments section was indignant. “How can this child be so materialistic! The stepmom must have ruined him!” “Don’t cry, heroine, just throw the DNA test results at them and make them face reality!” Emily’s hand trembled as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her bag. “This is a DNA test. You really are my children…” Maya finally swallowed her grape, slowly standing up. She walked up to Emily, looked her up and down, then covered her nose in disgust. “So what if you’re my real mom? Can you buy me Hermès? Can you get my idol to give me a foot massage?” “If you can’t, then why are you back? To fight us for the inheritance?” Emily was completely bewildered. This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go! Where was the mother-child bond, the tearful reunion? Julian Mulvey finally arrived. When he pushed open the door, he was met with a bizarre scene. His ex-wife, Emily, was kneeling on the floor, weeping hysterically. His current wife, me, was casually watching the drama unfold, legs crossed. And his two children were hiding behind me, staring at their biological mother as if she were insane. “What in God’s name is going on here?!” Julian thundered, his face dark. Emily seemed to see a savior, scrambling to his feet and throwing herself at Julian’s feet. “Julian, you’re finally here. I don’t blame the children for not recognizing me; it’s my fault for being away for so long.” “But Delia… how could she bring the children to a place like this? It will ruin them!” A classic move: retreating to adMulvey, and throwing me under the bus in the process. Julian glanced at the table full of liquor bottles, then at the bewildered male escorts, a vein throbbing in his temple. He turned to me, his gaze sharp. “Delia Hayes, is this how you look after the children?” I leisurely wiped my hands. “What? Mr. Mulvey doesn’t like it? This is happiness bought with your money, for your children.” “Besides, I didn’t bring them here to do anything illegal. Just listen to music, have a few drinks, and, by the way…” I pointed to the male escorts. “Let your daughter experience the diversity of men early, so she doesn’t get fooled by scumbags like you later on.” Julian choked on his anger. The comments section, however, suddenly became excited. “Although… the stepmom makes a really good point.” “This stepmom has some guts, her mouth is blessed.” “Mr. Mulvey, quickly help the heroine up! Rekindle the old flame! Patch things up!” Julian did indeed help Emily up. But the look in his eyes wasn’t the deep affection the comments hoped for; it was more like… embarrassment? “Since you’re only here once in a blue moon, let’s go home and talk.” Julian sighed, seemingly compromising. A flicker of triumph crossed Emily’s eyes, and she gave me a provocative look. I shrugged indifferently. Go home then. That house was no longer the one she remembered anyway. Back at the villa, Emily immediately slipped into her role. Ignoring her wet clothes, she headed straight to the kitchen to make supper for the children. “Lucas, Maya, Mommy’s making noodles for you. You used to love Mommy’s homemade noodles.” Lucas and Maya exchanged glances, horror in both their eyes. “I’m not eating! I’m ordering takeout! I want barbecue!” Lucas shouted. “I want barbecue too! Extra spicy!” Maya chimed in. Just as Emily brought out two bowls of bland, clear noodle soup, the delivery driver rang the doorbell. A mountain of lamb skewers, two platters of spicy crawfish, and ice-cold cola. The aroma instantly overpowered the two bowls of noodles. Emily’s hands trembled as she held the bowls. “These… these are junk food. They’re not good for your health.” I picked up a lamb skewer, took a bite, oil glistening on my lips. “Ms. Sterling, the most important thing in life is to be happy.” “Even dogs wouldn’t eat your noodles.” Emily moved into the guest room. But she clearly didn’t see herself as a guest. The very next morning, she began a grand clean-up of the villa. Under the guise of “decluttering” and giving the children a fresh living environment. By the time the kids and I woke up late in the morning, the house had been transformed. Lucas’s limited-edition action figures had been thrown into the trash. Maya’s pop star posters were ripped down and crumpled into a ball. Even the priceless bottle of red wine I kept in the living room had been poured down the drain, replaced with plain boiled water. “Noooo! My action figures! They were global limited editions! You can’t buy them even with money!” Lucas let out a pained shriek. Maya burst into tears. “My bias! My posters! Emily, are you insane?!” Emily, apron-clad, stood in the center of the living room, looking innocent. “Lucas, Maya, those toys take up too much space and look childish. Mommy helped you put them away.” “And those posters, that male celebrity doesn’t look decent. Mommy is doing this for your own good…” The comments section erupted in cheers. “Heroine doing great! She needs to help the kids get rid of those bad habits!” “This is a real mom, worrying herself sick for her children’s future.” “The stepmom only indulges, the real mom disciplines. The kids will realize the heroine’s good intentions eventually.” I leaned against the second-floor railing, watching the chaos unfold downstairs, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Emily, did you forget? This house is in my name now.” “Throwing away my things in my house? Who gave you the audacity?” Emily looked up at me, her eyes red. “Delia, I know you don’t like me, but the children are innocent. You can’t just indulge them in endless fun and games to curry favor.” “I’m trying to save them!” What a noble declaration. Julian Mulvey came downstairs at that moment, and seeing the scene, his brows furrowed. Emily immediately rushed over to complain. “Julian, look how Delia has spoiled the children! They’re losing their ambition, chasing frivolous things. How will they ever inherit the family business?” Julian glanced at the action figures in the trash, which he had gone through a lot of trouble to buy for his son’s birthday. He then looked at his daughter, whose makeup was ruined from crying. Finally, his gaze settled on Emily, who stood with a righteous expression. The comments section went into full alert. “Here it comes! Mr. Mulvey is about to blow up!” “Mr. Mulvey will definitely side with the heroine, it’s for the kids’ good after all.” “The stepmom is in for it now. She’s definitely getting kicked out!” Everyone thought Julian would reprimand me, and even Emily was prepared to be embraced and comforted. However, Julian took a deep breath and slowly spoke: “Emily, I bought that action figure.” “It cost eight hundred thousand dollars.” Emily’s expression froze.
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