When our grandmother gifted my brother, Liam, and me equal investment portfolios as kids, she wanted to give us both a strong start in life. It was her way of ensuring that we had financial security when we grew up. But while I let mine grow, Liam cashed his out for a brand-new car. Now, years later, he and his girlfriend have come knocking, demanding a share of my success.
I was only four years old when Grandma set up the investment accounts, while Liam was sixteen. Since I was too young to manage anything, our dad was put in charge of both portfolios until we were old enough. Naturally, Liam gained access first.
At nineteen, he didn’t hesitate—he cashed out his entire portfolio. Fifteen thousand dollars, gone in the blink of an eye. And what did he have to show for it? A brand-new Honda that he proudly flaunted to his friends, revving the engine like he had just won the lottery. He would drive around town, windows down, music blasting, grinning ear to ear.
I was younger, so I had more time to think about my future. I watched Liam burn through his money without a second thought, and I knew I didn’t want to make the same mistake. So, when I turned eighteen, I sat down with Dad and asked him to help me invest wisely. He guided me, and together, we put my money into Apple stock, along with a few other promising investments. Then, we let it grow.
Years passed. By the time I had full control over my portfolio, it had multiplied beyond my wildest dreams. Meanwhile, Liam’s car was long gone—just a distant memory of a reckless decision. And with the car, his money had vanished too.
I never rubbed it in his face. That’s not the kind of person I am. But as the years went by, the difference between us became painfully clear. I had built wealth. He had regrets.
Liam never planned for the future. He always lived in the moment, spending money as soon as it touched his hands. And I helped him. Over and over again.
When he lost his job and fell behind on rent, I covered it. When his car broke down and he couldn’t afford repairs, I sent him money. When he got into trouble—something about an unpaid loan and a very angry lender—I bailed him out.
Each time, he swore it was the last time.
“Just this once, bro. I promise,” he’d say.
At first, I believed him. I wanted to believe him. But by the third, fourth, fifth time? I saw the truth. He wasn’t changing.
One night, I confronted him.
“You keep blowing through money,” I said. “What’s your plan?”
Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Plan? I just need one big break, and I’ll be set.”
I sighed. “That’s what you always say.”
He smirked. “And you always help.”
That was the problem—I did. And he knew it.
I tried to stop. But then he’d call, desperate. “Just this once, I promise.”
And I’d give in. Every time.
But then, everything changed.
One evening, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I found Liam’s girlfriend, Madison, standing there. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. Dressed in a sharp business outfit, she looked like she had just come from work, but her eyes held nothing but arrogance.
“We need to talk,” she said, pushing past me before I could respond.
I shut the door and turned to face her. “Do we, though?”
She sighed dramatically. “Look, I’ll get straight to the point. You got way more than Liam. That’s not fair.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He got the same amount as me. He just spent his.”
She scoffed. “You had your dad invest yours. Liam didn’t get that chance.”
“He could have,” I said firmly. “He chose not to.”
Madison’s smirk faded. “So you’re seriously going to hoard all that money while your own brother struggles? Why don’t you share?”
“I’ve already helped him—many times,” I shot back. “Rent. Bills. Bailing him out. But this? No. Not happening.”
She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You’ll regret this.”
Anger flared in my chest. “Get out.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I pointed to the door. “Leave. Before I throw you out.”
Her face twisted in fury, but she turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I thought that was the end of it.
I was wrong.
A week later, I found an official-looking letter in my mailbox. Thick cream-colored paper, formal wording. At first, I thought it was junk mail. Then I saw Liam’s name.
The letter claimed our grandmother had “intended” for the investments to be shared equally, even in the future. Since Liam’s portfolio had only been worth $15,000 when he cashed it out, I was “legally and morally obligated” to give him half of mine now.
Then came the threat.
“If you refuse, legal fees and fines will eat up your half anyway, and you’ll end up with nothing.”
I burst out laughing. It was a bluff.
And then I noticed something else—at the bottom of the letter, Madison had signed her name, listing herself as a legal professional.
She worked at a law firm, sure. But she was a legal secretary, not a lawyer.
I picked up my phone and called my lawyer.
“You’re going to love this,” I said, reading the letter out loud.
There was a long pause, then he laughed. “Oh, this is rich.”
“She’s bluffing, right?” I asked.
“Oh, absolutely. But let me check something. Give me a day.”
A few days later, my lawyer called back, barely holding back his amusement.
“Your brother’s girlfriend? Madison? She’s not a lawyer. And here’s the best part—she forged the letter. That’s fraud.”
I blinked. “Wait—actual fraud?”
“Yep. And I forwarded it to her law firm.” He chuckled. “They fired her on the spot.”
A week later, Liam showed up at my door, looking exhausted. His usual cocky grin? Gone. Madison stood beside him, furious.
“She lost her job,” Liam muttered.
I pretended to look surprised. “Oh, really? How shocking.”
He exhaled sharply. “Come on, man. We need help.”
“You mean money,” I corrected.
He looked at the ground. “Yeah. A loan.”
I shook my head. “First, you try to scam me. Now, you’re begging me for cash?”
Madison scoffed. “Oh, come on. You have more than enough. You’re just being greedy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Greedy? You literally tried to steal from me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Enjoy your blood money.”
I said nothing. I just shut the door in their faces.
And for the first time in years, I felt zero guilt.
