Left to Freeze on Christmas，My Billionaire Parents Chose Their Fake Son

On Christmas Eve, the freezing wind bit through my thin delivery jacket. I was out rushing DoorDash orders to pay for my dad’s cancer treatments.

When I handed the custom bakery box to a customer around my age, he smirked and deliberately tilted it sideways. The cake slid and crashed against the inside of the box.

"Look what you did! Do you have any idea how much this custom cake cost? My mom ordered it specially for my birthday!"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but then two familiar figures stepped into the marble foyer behind him.

My parents.