Alex Novel My Destitute Parents Turned Out to Be Top-Tier Tycoons

Christmas Day. My parents, chasing triple pay, had left me alone at home again.
Thinking back to the last twenty years, how they always did this, I couldn't stand another cold, lonely Christmas all by myself.
So, I went looking for them.
To my surprise, my parents, who constantly preached about needing to earn more money, stepped out of a luxury car, arm-in-arm with a boy about my age, laughing and chatting as they headed into a five-star restaurant.
"Dad, Mom, is it really okay to leave Alex home alone like that?"
My mom just shrugged, dismissive. "It's fine. He's used to it."
My dad chimed in, equally nonchalant. "He's nothing compared to you, Leo. You're our precious one!"
I turned and walked away.
They'd been faking poverty, lying to me all this time.
This time, I didn't want their company anyway.

Back home, I dumped all the untouched food on the table straight into the trash.
Before, I would never have dared.
Ever since I could remember, I knew our family was struggling. Everything I ate and wore came from my parents' tireless scrimping and saving. New clothes were a rarity.
Every season, my mom would bring home a bag of used clothes. She'd always tell me, "These were worn by a colleague's son. They're clean, no need to buy new ones."
I had no idea where she got those old clothes. My childhood was practically devoid of anything new. I always wore ill-fitting clothes, and my classmates made fun of me, calling me a ragamuffin, like I picked my clothes from a dumpster.
I buried myself in my studies, hoping that one day, I could earn enough to buy new clothes for myself.
During holidays, I'd hand over any gifts or pocket money relatives gave me, just to ease my parents' burden.
But who knew, they had no burden at all.
I'd looked it up. That luxury car was owned by the Davidsons, one of the city's wealthiest families. The young master of that family had once been spotted cruising around in it with a famous actress, creating quite a stir.
I'd seen that gossip news, and the rich kid's face was unmistakably the same boy I saw tonight. Turns out, I was a rich kid myself!
I found it ironically hilarious. I sniffed, wiping my nose, then turned back to my parents' bedroom to search.
Maybe they were too careless, leaving such important documents at home.
When I saw my dad's signature on a contract worth hundreds of millions, with a Montblanc pen tucked inside the papers, the last shred of hope in my heart died.
I put everything back exactly as I found it, then quietly returned to my room, pulled the blanket over my head, and went to sleep.
I just hoped I'd wake up and find it all a dream.
The next morning, my parents were already bustling in the kitchen.
I looked at the breakfast laid out on the table and suddenly realized: who eats gourmet seafood for breakfast?
The smell was identical to the expensive seafood feast Professor Thompson treated us to last time.
I glanced at the trash bag by the door. Sure enough. Empty seafood containers.
"Mom, Dad, did we strike it rich?" I asked, sitting at the table, watching them.
My mom looked surprised. "Alex, what are you talking about?"
"Then how can we afford such expensive seafood?" I pointed at the trash bag. My mom's face immediately changed.
My dad chuckled beside her. "Oh, that? Last night I was working late with my boss, and he packed it for me. I couldn't bear to eat it myself, so I brought it home."
"With your mom and my meager salaries, how could we ever afford seafood like this?"
Right, of course. I nodded, sipping the porridge, but inside, I scoffed. Seafood, about seventy-five bucks a bowl. Last night's dinner probably cost tens of thousands.
If they were genuinely poor, this bowl of porridge would have tasted delicious.
Now, it tasted like cardboard.
I only ate two bites before standing up.
"I'm full."
"Alex, why are you eating so little? Are you feeling unwell?" My mom asked, her face etched with concern. Her gaze didn't seem fake.
I shook my head, forcing a smile. "No, not at all! Aren't we going to Grandpa George's today? I'm saving room for a good lunch there!"
Hearing that, my mom sighed in relief. My dad looked a little guilty, about to say something, when his phone rang.
I glanced at the screen. The caller ID read, "My Precious Son, Leo."
Leo, his precious son. What about me, then?
My dad quickly went out to the balcony, and my mom followed. I faintly heard him saying things like, "Be good," and "Don't let Alex find out."
A chill settled deep in my heart. So, they'd known all along. They'd been in on it, conspiring to keep it from me.
I even wondered if my entire world was like The Truman Show.
Yet, they felt so real.



After hanging up the phone, Dad came over to me. "Alex, something urgent came up at work. I need to go in for a bit!"
Mom tried to reassure me. "It's fine, sweetie, I'll go with you."
I nodded, got ready with Mom, and we headed to Grandpa George and Grandma Martha's place.
When we arrived, Grandpa George saw me, pulled me in close. "Alex, you're here! Come in, it's cold outside!"
His hands were soft and smooth, not at all calloused like a man who'd spent his life doing physical labor.
This old apartment complex was part of a former industrial site; they said Grandpa George was a retired blue-collar worker from the plant.
But looking at how pampered he seemed, it didn't add up.
Grandma Martha saw me and immediately pressed some money into my hand. I took it. "Thanks, Grandma."
Then I put it straight into my pocket. My mom looked a little taken aback. Usually, I'd hand the money straight to her.
Back then, Mom would always say, "Alex is such a thoughtful boy."
But today, I acted completely out of character. Even Grandma Martha paused, then chuckled. "Our Alex is learning to keep his pocket money now!"
I raised an eyebrow and smiled. "It's not really 'keeping' it. I just want some pocket money for myself."