My Parents Lied: We're Filthy Rich

Mom's birthday was coming soon.

I'd been working several jobs every day from morning till late at night and only getting home in the wee hours of the morning, just so that I could save up enough to buy her the gold pendant she'd been eyeing for a while.

I was working at the car dealership as usual one afternoon when I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice at the entrance of the shop.

"Do you like this sports car, Randy? It's only 500,000 dollars. It'd be perfect as your 18th birthday gift."

I immediately turned around and felt my blood freeze in my body when I realized that the person who said that was none other than my dad, Fred Carter, who was usually so poor that he couldn't even afford to buy a new 20-dollar shirt.

However, right at this moment, he was holding hands with my mom, Melissa Phelps, and my younger brother, Randall Carter, while loudly proclaiming that he was about to buy a 500,000-dollar Ferrari for Randall without even blinking an eye.

In fact, when I thought that he was just showing Randall around and letting him pretend to drive it, Dad suddenly brought out his card and said, "Alright, we're getting this car, then!"

My brain went blank at that very moment.

My mind was filled with images of Mom and Dad complaining about being poor whenever they were with me. Just hours ago, they had piled the last few pieces of chicken nuggets onto my plate and looked at me with guilty eyes.

"It's our fault for being so useless, Raven. You're forced to work and do hard labor from such a young age."

I had even naively replied, "It's fine! It's not hard work at all. I'm willing to do whatever it takes for our family to get rich!"

Now that I thought of it, I realized what a clown I had been back then!

Since I was wearing a cap, a mask, and my work uniform, Mom and Dad never really paid any attention to me, even as I walked right by.

I wanted to find out the truth. I also refused to believe that Mom and Dad would deliberately pretend to be poor in front of me. So, I borrowed another colleague's cleaning suits and came a little closer to them, wanting to hear what they were actually saying.

Randall was smiling from ear to ear.

"Dad! You're the best! How did you know that I've been wanting a silver Ferrari for the longest time?"

Mom, however, looked at him cautiously and said, "Randy, you must absolutely not let your sister know about this when we get home. Otherwise, you'll know what the consequences are."

Randall just chuckled when he heard that. "Why do you still care about her feelings, Mom? Don't tell me that you and Dad are planning to tell her one fine day that you're secretly millionaires!"

Mom just burst out laughing.

"What nonsense are you talking about? The reason why we even bought this old, run-down, dilapidated flat in the suburbs and live on meager rations is to make her believe that we're poor and helpless!

"If I really told her about our situation, wouldn't you get worried that the brat would fight you for your inheritance?"

Dad chimed in as well.

"Yeah. None of this is our fault. If anyone were to blame, it would be that brat for being so easily fooled. All your mom and I had to say was that we were too poor to afford to put food on the table, and she immediately went out to find herself multiple part-time jobs to 'support' the family.

"Haha! And to think I thought that she'd actually measure up to anything at all! She's just a stupid brat who can't even afford to get herself into college and spends her days toiling away while making just barely enough to buy you a pair of socks.

"And yet, she still thinks that she's so great. Don't you find it hilarious?"