After Secrets Unveiled, I Became A Wealthy Heiress

"Your temper is only going to make things worse. Let me handle it."

Dallas glanced around, his eyes darting before he responded, "Fine, you're more reliable anyway."

If he were the one handling it, the whole situation would probably spiral into chaos.

"Then let me borrow a car."

"Sure," he replied with a shrug. "Which one do you want? I’ve got a McLaren and a Maybach."

Sandro waved him off, "Forget it. I’ll just grab something from the underground garage."

[This is hilarious! A McLaren and a Maybach? How could a place like this even have an underground garage? Did they dig a tunnel themselves?]

[Take whatever you want? Are we talking about bicycles or mopeds? Maybe they put a label on a seat and called it a car.]

[Repeat after me: They're faking it! Total frauds!]

Dallas seemed to pause for a moment, then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, added, "Oh and don’t touch the pink Ferrari. That’s Emma’s birthday gift."

The comments section exploded with laughter and mockery, but Sandro wasn’t fazed. He opened a drawer, revealing a stash of car keys.

Wait, what was this?

There were keys for a Lincoln, a Ferrari, an Audi, a Cayenne... each one more valuable than the last.

The audience went silent in shock.

[This has to be fake! How could they possibly have all these? They’re definitely fake!]

Even the host, caught off guard, had no idea how to react.

"Emma, why does your family have so many car keys?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

I recalled Dallas’s words and gave a nonchalant shrug. "He loves collecting models. That’s probably what they are."

[See? It’s just impossible for them to have real cars. No way they’d have a whole drawer full of keys!]

[Such bald-faced lies! But, you know, it’s kind of entertaining.]

[It’s not hope; it’s delusion.]

The conversation slowly fizzled out as Sandro pulled out an e-bike key.

"If it’s nearby, this will be more convenient," he said with a casual air.

"I’m heading out to get the cake."

A bold viewer tagged Elite Reverie Cakes’ official account.

[@Elite_Reverie_Cakes (Fort Worth HQ), come spill the tea. Did anyone from this family place an order today?]

Soon, the comment section was flooded with tags and sure enough, the Elite Reverie Cakes account responded.

[No, sorry. Our owner said we’re not accepting orders today due to unavoidable circumstances.]

The truth had been revealed and the audience erupted, enjoying the drama unfolding.

[Ha! The truth’s out. How far can they push this act? Can’t wait to see.]

[Knew it! Another fabrication exposed.]

I frowned, biting my lip at the response.

My brothers often bought me little cakes, claiming they were from a friend's bakery with discounts that couldn’t sell out. It always had the same name.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

While the mockery continued, Dallas, on screen, began glancing around with the suspicion of a thief.

He slipped into my room, drawing the audience's attention.

Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he reached for my piggy bank.

The viewers were on edge, wondering what he’d do next.

With a quick, practiced shake, two coins fell from the bank, clinking softly.

The audience fell silent, stunned into disbelief.

[This is too much! Is he stealing from his little sister now?]

[No matter how handsome he is, that’s just shameless!]

I glared at the screen, my anger bubbling to the surface. Dallas had taken my coins again.

After slipping the money into his pocket, he gave the piggy bank a quick shake.

"Desperate times," he muttered, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Borrowing two bucks for the bus. No one will notice, right?"

"Who even carries cash these days?"

As he spoke, he pulled out a golden bead the size of a thumb and casually slipped it into the piggy bank.

It gleamed so bright, so luxurious!

First, it was the miniature car keys and now he was swapping gold beads for coins.

The viewers couldn’t hold back.

[It’s all aluminum! There’s no way this is real!]

[Gold? Is that actual gold?]

[Relax, everyone. It can’t be gold.]

[Wait, who’s that?!]