Money may be called the root of all evil, but it’s not the paper itself—it’s the way people change when it’s in their hands. In these stories, when people are faced with wealth, their true personalities come to light. Whether it’s trying to control someone else’s life or trying to heal family wounds, money brings out shocking revelations.
From a stepparent trying to throw out her stepson to a grandmother’s grand plan to reunite a torn family, here are three incredible stories where money caused a family rift.
1. My Stepmom Tried Kicking Me Out Only to Discover Something Shocking About Our House That Turned the Tables Around
After a long, exhausting day juggling college and working nights at a gaming store, I just wanted to get some sleep. But when I got home, my stepmom Karen was waiting, arms crossed and furious.
“Why are you late? You were supposed to clean today!” she demanded.
I sighed, trying to keep calm. “I had a long day. I’ll clean tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? That’s not how responsibility works, Marcus!” she snapped.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. “You’re home all day! Is cleaning really that hard for you?”
Her face turned red. “How dare YOU speak to ME like that!”
Before I could respond, Dad entered, looking between us, clearly unsure of what to do.
“What’s going on here?” Dad asked.
“Marcus refuses to clean,” Karen accused, crossing her arms.
“I’m not refusing. I said I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m tired,” I explained, trying to swallow my frustration.
Dad sighed, looking between Karen and me. “He’ll do it tomorrow. Let’s leave it at that.”
I nodded, relieved, and started to head upstairs, but Dad called me back. “Wait, don’t go yet. We have news to share.”
My stomach churned, but I followed him to the table where a cold plate of leftovers awaited me. As I picked at my food, I felt their eyes on me.
“What’s this big news?” I asked, glancing up.
Dad shared a look with Karen. “We’re pregnant!” they announced together.
I froze, almost choking. “Uh… congratulations,” I managed, forcing a smile.
Dad looked thrilled, but Karen’s expression stayed cold.
“Son,” Dad began, his voice more serious, “I don’t know how to say this, but…”
Before he could finish, Karen cut in. “Actually, Marcus, YOU need to move out.”
“What? Dad, what is she talking about?!” I stammered, looking at Dad in shock.
Karen didn’t flinch. “My baby is on the way, and we need to prepare for it. Renovations will be needed, and frankly, you’ll be a burden. We need space for our child.”
“Dad? Where will I go?” I asked desperately. “I can’t afford rent. I work part-time and study. This is my home too, please!”
Dad didn’t answer. He just looked back and forth between Karen and me, but remained silent.
I couldn’t believe it. “You know what? You two can go to hell!” I shouted, storming off to my room, slamming the door behind me.
That night, I lay on my bed, feeling completely alone. I couldn’t just be thrown out like this, could I? As I listened to their muffled voices through the door, I pressed my ear against it.
Dad’s voice sounded hesitant. “Maybe he should stay until he finishes school…”
But Karen cut him off. “Tom, we’ve been over this. He has to go.”
A wave of helplessness washed over me.
The next day, Karen came into my room without knocking. “You have three days to figure it out,” she said coldly.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “I’m a student with a part-time job! I can’t find a place in three days!”
But she had already walked out, ignoring me.
I thought about calling Grandma Rose. She’d always had my back. Desperate, I dialed her number.
“Grandma Rose? It’s Marcus,” I choked out, barely holding it together.
“Marcus? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
I told her everything.
“Do nothing, sweetheart,” Rose said calmly. “I’ll be there soon.”
The next day, my late grandmother’s sister arrived at our door. She didn’t wait a second.
“Everyone to the living room. Now,” Rose demanded, her eyes fierce.
Karen glared at her, but my grandma spoke first. “How dare you throw a child out of his home?”
“Marcus isn’t a child,” Karen retorted.
“Until he finishes school, he is,” Rose said firmly. “But none of that matters. This is Marcus’s house. He’s not going anywhere.”
I was stunned. Karen scoffed, but Rose wasn’t done.
“My late sister left the house to Marcus before she passed. It’s been his since he turned eighteen.”
Karen’s face went pale. “What? How do you know that?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“I saw you this morning at the café with your friend. Nice wine, especially for a pregnant woman,” Rose said coolly.
Karen’s jaw dropped. “There is no baby!”
Dad looked at her, stunned. “You lied?” he whispered.
Rose’s calm voice interrupted. “Pack your things and leave.”
Within minutes, Karen was gone.
Dad turned to me, regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, son. I don’t know what came over me.”
I hugged him tightly, finally feeling safe.
2. Hate Tore My Family Apart Until My Grandmother Brought Us Together One Last Time with a Great Revelation
Scott and I hadn’t seen most of the family in years. The hatred between us had pushed us all apart, but Grandma Eleanor’s 80th birthday brought us back together, though none of us really wanted to be there.
As we stepped out of the car in the chilly air, Scott grumbled, “I still don’t get why we’re here.”
“It’s Grandma’s birthday,” I reminded him. “She’s the only kind one left, and she wants us all here.”
He sighed. “I could be working right now. We really need the money.”
“It’s just one evening,” I said, instinctively patting my stomach. “Do you think they’ll notice?”
Scott chuckled. “If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t notice. But what about telling Grandma?”
“Maybe at the end of the night,” I whispered.
We were greeted by Grandma’s warm smile as she hugged each of us, and the table was filled with food.
“Why so much food, Grandma?” I asked, touched by her generosity.
“I love doing it,” she smiled.
As we settled in, Michael asked, “Mom’s not here yet?”
“She’s not sure she can make it,” Grandma replied softly.
“Typical,” I muttered. “She never has time for us.”
Michael shot me a glare. “Stop. She’s our mom.”
I couldn’t hold back. “Yeah? And she hasn’t wished me a happy birthday in years.”
Michael crossed his arms. “You act like you’re perfect, Camilla!”
“And she put her career before us, every time!” I shot back.
Scott placed a hand on my shoulder. “Camilla, maybe just…”
But I ignored him. “You only have those restaurants because Uncle handed them to you!”
Michael’s fists clenched. “You’ve always been jealous of me, haven’t you?”
“Jealous of what? That you’re married to a woman who only cares about your money?”
Michael sneered. “And you have it so good? Your husband can barely hold a job, and how long have you been trying for kids? Five, ten years?”
“Go to hell!” I shouted, standing up.
“Enough!” Grandma’s voice cut through the chaos as she stood, her face serious. “This is my birthday. I brought you here to celebrate, not to argue! And as for the inheritance…”
“Inheritance?” I asked, my ears perking up.
Grandma’s eyes were cold as she said, “Your grandfather left something, but I’m not leaving a penny to either of you until you prove you deserve it and earn my trust.”
“What?” Michael demanded. “How do we prove it?”
Grandma’s voice was calm. “Show me you deserve it.”
And with that, she walked off, leaving us in stunned silence.
Outside, I walked, hands cradling my stomach. Michael followed me.
“So, we might have an inheritance,” he said, glancing at me.
“If you hadn’t ruined things as usual,” I shot back.
“Me?” Michael was stunned. “You started it!”
I sighed. “I need that inheritance, Michael. Scott and I…”
He raised a brow. “Why should I step aside? I need it too.”
“Maybe Stacy should leave,” I muttered. “I’m not giving up on this.”
Michael followed me back inside, muttering, “Not fair, Camilla.”
I found Grandma in her room. “Grandma, I’m sorry. Let me help you with anything.”
Grandma raised an eyebrow. “Is this how you think you’ll win an inheritance?”
I placed my hand on my stomach. “Because…”
Before I could finish, Michael barged in. “Camilla’s lying about me, Grandma!”
“We weren’t even talking about you,” she said dryly.
Just then, our mother arrived, sweeping in with open arms. “My darlings!”
“Camilla,” she said critically, eyeing me, “Have you gained weight?”
I rolled my eyes, turning back to the table.
As the bickering between Michael, Mom, and me grew louder, suddenly Grandma’s face turned pale, and she collapsed.
“Grandma!” I screamed, clutching my stomach. “Call an ambulance!”
Scott rushed to my side, gripping my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s starting,” I gasped.
“Labor?” Scott asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes!” I screamed.
Michael shouted, “You were pregnant?”
Our mother asked, “I’m going to be a grandma?”
And I screamed for someone to call 911!
After a long, anxious wait in the hospital, I gave birth to our baby girl. When I woke up, Michael entered, looking serious.
“Grandma’s gone,” he said quietly.
We’d received a note from Grandma in her things. She’d known about my pregnancy and left everything to Scott and our child. She urged Michael to divorce his wife and asked our mother to be a better grandmother.
Michael looked remorseful. “I’m sorry for what I said, Camilla.”
Our mother whispered, “Could I… be a real grandma?”
I smiled at my baby, feeling hope stirring in my chest. “Maybe,” I said, holding her close. “Her name is Eleanor.”
3. I Thought My Father Was Dead, Only to Find Out a Sinister Truth When We Tried Burying Him
I stepped out of the car and paused in front of the church. The cool wind whipped at my face, but it couldn’t cool the heaviness in my heart. “This is it,” I thought, “We’re here to say goodbye to Dad.” The feeling of loss was overwhelming. I glanced at the car window, and Bella’s bark broke through my thoughts. She was my father’s dog, and usually, she stayed calm in the car. But not today.
“Come on, Bella!” I called out, walking back towards the car.
Bella’s eyes were wide, and her body was restless. She was clearly agitated. I gave her a calming gesture, and after a moment, she lay down, but her eyes never left me.
“Stay, Bella,” I whispered, stroking her head through the window before turning back toward the church. Leaving her whine behind, I walked inside, my mind still heavy with sorrow.
The sight of Dad’s casket in front of the church brought me back to reality. It was roped off, and people were sitting in their chairs, murmuring. I sat down next to Mom, my heart aching. This was supposed to be the final farewell, but something felt wrong, something I couldn’t quite place.
As the final hymn began, the noise of Bella’s barking suddenly echoed through the church. It was loud, frantic, and unlike her usual calm behavior. People turned to look, and I immediately felt a sense of panic.
“Open the casket!” I shouted, my voice cracking. I couldn’t explain it, but I had to see for myself.
Murmurs and whispers filled the room, but I didn’t care. I rushed to the casket, and in a split second, I threw open the lid. My heart skipped a beat. The casket was… empty.
The room went silent. A collective gasp filled the air, and I could barely hear it over the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Where is he?!” I yelled, turning toward the funeral director. My voice was shaking, and I felt my knees weaken.
I saw my mom’s face go pale, her body swaying. She collapsed, and I rushed to catch her, panic rising in my chest. “What’s happening?” I thought, as I scooped her up and ran toward the door.
I quickly rushed Mom to the hospital, my mind reeling. “How could Dad’s body be missing?” I kept asking myself over and over. This made no sense. How could the body just disappear?
That night, I called the police. Detective Bradshaw arrived and listened to my frantic account. “The coroner confirmed your father’s death, and the body was released to the funeral home,” she explained calmly. “Could your father have been involved in something that put your family at risk?”
I shook my head. Dad had always been a solid, respectable businessman. He ran his own dog training and rehabilitation center, and I couldn’t imagine him getting involved in anything shady.
But Detective Bradshaw didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll look into it. But for now, keep me updated if you find anything unusual.”
As she left, I knew I couldn’t just wait around. There had to be more to this story. Leaving Bella at home, I decided to go straight to the morgue to get some answers.
At the front desk, I spoke with a nurse who looked at me with a bored expression. “The coroner resigned,” she said, barely glancing at me. “We don’t have a replacement yet.”
I felt a rush of frustration. This wasn’t just coincidence. Something was off.
“Can I see my father’s file?” I asked. She shook her head.
I knew I needed to do something drastic. I slipped $1,000 onto the counter. The nurse hesitated, then turned away. I knew it wasn’t ethical, but at this point, I had no choice. I rushed into the coroner’s office, but it was empty. The file on Dad was gone.
I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I was in the middle of some twisted game.
I returned to Dad’s office, hoping to find something. As I searched through his emails, I realized everything had been deleted. “What’s going on here?” I muttered in disbelief.
Just as I was about to give up, Dad’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens, walked in. “Ryan,” he said with a solemn look. “I’ve got some news for you. You’re the new CEO of the company.”
“Wait, what? What happened to Dad’s stuff here?” I asked, noticing a couple of things missing, including two dancer figurines.
Mr. Stevens hesitated. “Your father supposedly took them home before… before everything happened. But there’s one left, and the collector is asking for half a million for it.”
I couldn’t understand. I had searched through every inch of our house, and those figurines were nowhere to be found.
Mr. Stevens then dropped another bombshell. “We’ve been in severe debt for months, and investors have been pulling out. Your father’s missed meetings, and the company is struggling.”
Then, in a quieter tone, he added, “I also believe Arnold was having a relationship with his new secretary.”
My blood ran cold. I couldn’t let this go, and I spent the day trying to handle the investors. But that night, I tracked down Dad’s secretary, Miss Pearson. I followed her discreetly to her house and waited until she left for the evening.
When she drove off, I snuck into her house. Inside her bedroom, I found a framed photo of her and Dad, kissing each other! My stomach churned. But that wasn’t all. On the coffee table was a manila envelope with Dad’s $7 million life insurance policy, and Miss Pearson was the sole beneficiary.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I rushed straight to the police with this evidence.
Hours later, Detective Bradshaw confirmed that Miss Pearson was booked on a flight to Morocco, a country with no extradition treaty. She was trying to flee the country.
Bradshaw gathered her team to search the airport, but by the time they arrived, Miss Pearson had vanished.
I wasn’t about to give up. My final lead was the third dancer figurine. I tracked down the collector and paid the outrageous price of $750,000. I hoped this would draw Dad out of hiding.
At the auction house, I waited in the shadows. Then, at $1 million, I heard a familiar voice.
“Ryan, what have you done?”
I turned and saw my father. My stomach twisted with rage.
“You faked your death!” I shouted at him. “You ran off with your mistress, and left us grieving over an empty casket!”
Dad’s face crumbled, and he admitted everything. “I… I wanted a new life,” he confessed. “I thought this would be the way out.”
I stared at him, disgusted. “You taught me that a man should do what’s right. But you’ve done nothing but follow your own selfish desires.”
Detective Bradshaw assured me that Miss Pearson wouldn’t get far, and they took Dad away in handcuffs. I felt a strange sense of closure. He would face the consequences of his actions, and finally, the truth was out.
