My Paranoia Made the Real Heiress Snap

Thanks to my addiction to the stories regarding true and fake heiresses, I'm afflicted with strong paranoia that everyone is out there to get me.

For some reason, I keep thinking that I'm a fake heiress who will eventually get kicked out of my home.

In order to avoid getting set up, I stay on my guard every day. Not only do I hire some people to act as the actual heiresses and visit my home from time to time, but I also have them put on performances with me while clutching paternity test reports and heirloom pendants as props.

On the day I'm done rehearsing all of the webnovel tropes, a pure and innocent young woman comes knocking on the door. Interestingly enough, she has live comments surrounding her.

As she shows the pendant and a paternity test report, she starts crying sadly.

"Mom, Dad, I'm your actual daughter!"

The live comments begin spamming relentlessly.

"I'm tired of looking at pure and innocent female leads! A manipulative true heiress, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air! Not only does she intend to regain everything that belongs to her, but she also vows to teach the fake heiress a lesson she will never forget!"

"Just look at how amazing her acting and her expression are! Her parents will definitely fall for her excuse, hook, line, and sinker!"

Amid the live comments' cheering, my parents just nod thoughtfully.

"The actress who's playing this role today is quite talented."

The girl's innocent, pitiful expression froze on her face as she paused in disbelief.

"Dad, Mom, what are you saying? I'm your biological daughter!"

She hurriedly held out the DNA test report and a family heirloom locket in front of them, trying to prove her identity.

"Look! This is the evidence!"

Even the live stream chat fell silent in shock.

"What's going on?"

"Shouldn't her parents be moved to tears and pull her into a hug?"

At that moment, I wrapped up my final scene and stepped out of the room.

The first thing I saw was my mother staring intently at the girl's features, tracing every detail on her face again and again.

The comment section didn't even try to hide its hostility toward me.

"Once her mom recognizes the real daughter by her looks, you're done for, you fake!"

"Our scheming, ruthless heroine is smart, and with her parents backing her, she'll destroy you in no time."

Mom suddenly turned to look at me.

Under the girl's hopeful gaze, she called out eagerly, "Faye, from what I can see, this girl has the best acting skills and is the most dedicated. She even prepared her own props. You won't go wrong partnering with her."

Around the room, the other actresses I had found to play the "real daughter" walked past one after another, each holding the same two items used for the recognition scene.

The girl glanced at them, then down at the items in her own hands. Her expression darkened instantly.

I cleared my throat, feeling a little awkward.

"Mom, I don't think she's one of the actresses I brought in."

That caught both my parents off guard as they sat on the couch.

"What? She's not? Then, who is she?"

With everyone's attention suddenly focused on her, the girl grew agitated.

She threw herself at my parents' feet and sobbed, "Dad, Mom, I finally found you. Even though I've suffered all these years, struggling just to get by and barely having enough to eat, it was all worth it. Our family is finally reunited!"

Excitement surged through the comments again.

"Here it is, the classic recognition scene. The female lead is so pitiful. She's maxing out her parents' sympathy instantly."

"I can't wait for the parents to take it out on the fake daughter. She's been living in someone else's place all these years!"

The girl wiped her tears and looked up expectantly, but my parents remained oddly calm, even a little awkward.

Dad looked especially uncomfortable and turned his face away.

"Miss, calm down for a moment."

The girl looked completely baffled, unable to understand why things were unfolding this way.

I took it all in and nearly failed to hold back my laughter.

Over the years, I had hired no fewer than a hundred actors, running through thousands of familiar fiction cliches. The recognition plot alone had been staged nearly a hundred times.

The first time they saw it, my parents were so moved they cried, wishing they could give their hearts to the real daughter.

The second time, they felt deep regret and swore to make it up to their biological child.

By the 99th time, all that remained on their faces was numbness. They even begged me in their dreams to switch to a different storyline.