The Billionaire's Bastard: How I Crashed the Reading of the Will

I am the child of a mistress.

When I was seventeen years old, my biological father kicked the bucket.

At the funeral, wearing my cheap high school uniform, I stood in front of a room packed with Wall Street titans, brilliant tech innovators, and an A-list Hollywood actress. Trembling like a leaf, I stuttered:

"I... I'm here to fight for the inheritance..."

Before the words fully left my mouth, the legitimate heirs all turned their heads and stared dead at me.

I was so terrified I started crying.

"N-never mind... you don't have to give me anything..."