Chapter 1

I was universally known as a monster of a mother, guilty of countless sins.

Ever since my daughter turned eight, she had to surrender every penny of her allowance to me.

While she choked down dry bagels in the dead of winter, I gambled her money away at poker tables.

When she worked part-time after college classes to pay tuition, I took her hard-earned cash to splurge at luxury malls.

After graduation, she made good money, yet I forced her to live in a dingy basement without an ounce of sympathy.

When she found a boyfriend, my first demand was a hundred-thousand-dollar luxury car.

Eventually, my daughter broke down, screaming through tears:

"How could I end up with a greedy leech like you for a mother?!"

"I raised you so you could pay me back! No luxury car, no wedding!"

Her fiancé called me a money-hungry psychopath.

His parents urged my daughter to cut ties with me completely, saying a mother like me wasn't worth keeping.

I never explained myself. I even whipped out a paternity test, demanding monthly support payments from her.

I said coldly, "It’s your legal duty. Pay up!"

On Christmas Eve, my daughter reached her breaking point.

Standing on the edge of a rooftop with bloodshot eyes, she cried, "Mom, did you ever love me at all?"

A sharp ache pierced my chest. I couldn't hold it back anymore, and finally revealed the secret I had buried for nearly thirty years...

The night before Christmas Eve, I sent my daughter a text.

"This month’s support is $318.56. I’ll knock off the change—just send me three hundred."

A second later, her FaceTime call came through.

On the screen, Chloe looked gaunt, her expression tight and eyes brimming with deep disappointment.

"Mom, did you only have me as an investment? Am I just your personal ATM?"

I frowned and cut her off. "Are you refusing to pay?"

Chloe trembled.

"Mom, all my life, the only thing you ever cared about was taking my money! Other kids could buy whatever they wanted and enjoy life, while I had to scrape by just to hand my savings over to you."

She bit her lip, pausing.

"And I never even blamed you for that."

So all these years, she had resented me deep down.

She had been an obedient, sweet girl, yet she never received my warmth.

Feeling sorry for me as a single mother, she had endured it all, earning money to give to me since she was little, promising she would love me forever.

My heart clenched.

Her eyes were red and full of tears. I forced myself to look away.

Chloe pressed on:

"Mom, you’ve been taking my money since I was eight years old. Your pension is higher than my salary now. Why are you still doing this?!"

Her fiancé, Logan, sneered from the background:

"Chloe, stop wasting your breath. She’s just a heartless miser!"

"I’ve never seen a grandmother who doesn't give a damn about her own grandchild!"

Chloe snapped at him:

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!"

That desperate, emotional cry of "mother" pulled me back in time.

When Chloe was eight, just in third grade, I took away all her pocket money.

She gave me an obedient smile, handing over every cent from her little teddy bear pouch.

I turned around and spent it dining at high-end restaurants.

When she was twelve, starting middle school, she won a top-ten academic scholarship of two hundred dollars.

She ran to me, beaming, hoping for praise.

With a cold face, I snatched the envelope and used it to go on vacation for several days.

When she graduated and started working, I demanded she hand over her paychecks.

Over time, she grew distant, no longer craving my love.

Later.

She found a boyfriend. A rare smile returned to her face. When she tentatively asked for my blessing, I demanded a hundred-thousand-dollar luxury car, threatening to stop the wedding. Her face instantly froze.

"Mom, you’re marrying off a daughter, not selling one!"

Snapping back to reality, my voice remained harsh:

"Chloe, supporting your mother is your legal obligation."

This time, Chloe refused to let it go.

"Do you owe loan sharks? Or do you have some disgusting addiction?"

She was desperate for answers, but I insisted I just needed the money for myself.

Chloe scoffed coldly. "Stop lying! You live like a pauper. The neighbors said you won't even turn on the heater in the dead of winter!"

I frowned in displeasure:

"Is that how you speak to your mother?"

Logan chimed in, leaning toward Chloe. "Chloe, are you sure you’re not adopted?"

Chloe froze.

It seemed she had never considered that possibility.

As a poor girl who had been bled dry by her mother and grew up without a father, she had always been starved of love.

Logan had become her entire world.

Her eyes wavered with suspicion.

"Mom? Am I really your biological daughter?" I could see her knuckles turning white.

Before I could answer.

Chloe wiped her tears, her eyes flashing with pure hatred as she snarled at me:

"Mom, even if you won't tell me, I have ways to find out!"

"DNA tests are easy to get now. If you’re not my mother, I swear I won't let you leech off me for another second!"