My Stepfather Was Actually My Biological Father

Mirabelle's POV

I didn’t say another word. I just gave a small smile and walked away.

My dad and my aunt’s wedding was set for the most luxurious hotel in the city.

Yet I never got an invitation, but it was not that I would go.

Of course, that didn’t stop the internet from drowning in photos and videos of the big day.

In the pictures, my aunt was draped in a custom-made wedding gown, leaning happily against my father’s arm, while Grandma stood nearby, her smile so wide it deepened every wrinkle on her face.

Barely a year later, the news broke again that my aunt had given my dad a son. My dad was over the moon, and he booked a hundred tables for the baby’s monthsary. Online, people called it karma, said he deserved the blessing of a son.

Then they turned on me. They said I was the kind of person who’d never even be served eight dishes at a meal in this lifetime.

At school, people also pointed and whispered when I walked past. Once they realized I’d never inherit our family fortune, they kept their distance. They said anyone who could turn her back on the stepfather who raised her had no conscience and wasn’t worth befriending.

Having heard those rumors, Pansy, my best friend, was furious on my behalf.

“I don’t believe for a second you’re ungrateful,” she said, clutching my arm. “But seriously, what now? Billions just slipped away! I still don’t get what you were thinking. Even if you wanted him to have his own child, you didn’t need to go so far as making a public announcement that you were cutting ties.”

I just sighed, but still said nothing.

Seeing me still not explaining, she threw her hands up in exasperation. “I swear, I’ll never understand you. What exactly happened between you and your dad? Why won’t you just tell me?”

Not long after, tragedy struck, and my dad died suddenly of a heart attack.

My aunt and Grandma called, insisting I come home for the funeral.

Pansy, worried they might try something, insisted on coming with me.

When we arrived, the truth came out. They hadn’t called me home just to mourn. They wanted to settle my father’s estate.

The company’s accountants worked day and night for a week to tally it all up, and the amount my father had left behind was over a billion in cash. On top of that, he’d always loved buying real estate. Now we had properties scattered all over the world.

Pansy clutched her head in anguish. “Mirabelle, I told you not to be stupid! Now look. If you hadn’t cut ties, all of this would’ve been yours!”

Right then, my aunt appeared, holding my baby half-brother in her arms. She looked at us coldly and spat, “Dream on. Why should a thankless brat like her get a cent of our family’s money? Let me make it clear. My son is the sole heir to Manfred’s estate. And as for you, I demand you return everything you ever took from our family.”

I met her gaze. “Are you sure about that?”

She puffed up proudly and bounced the baby slightly, as if showing him off.

“Of course I’m sure. I’d advise you to hand it all back without a fuss. The whole internet’s watching. Let’s see if you have even a shred of conscience left.”

Only then did I notice the cameras. She’d actually invited the media.

On a massive screen, the livestream chat scrolled endlessly, thousands of viewers spitting venom.

[How shameless can she get? Saying she cut ties, but still using his money and living in his house!]

[Exactly! Mr. Holt raised her, and she still publicly severed ties? If that’s not being ungrateful, what is?]

My aunt smiled smugly at the uproar. “Come on, then. I know exactly what my late husband gave you. Don’t bother denying it. And thank you, dear viewers, for helping a poor widow and her orphaned child seek justice.”