When our grandmother gifted my brother Liam and me equal investment portfolios as kids, she hoped to give us a solid foundation for the future. It was her way of ensuring we had something to fall back on. But years later, the choices we made set us on completely different paths—one of growth and one of regret.
When I was four and Liam was sixteen, Grandma set up investment accounts for both of us. Our dad was in charge of the accounts until we were old enough to manage them ourselves. Liam turned nineteen first, and the moment he gained control, he cashed out everything—about $15,000—and bought himself a brand-new Honda. He was so proud of that car, revving the engine like he was the king of the world.
I was younger, so I had time to think about my choices. I saw Liam blow through his money, treating it like it would last forever. By the time I turned eighteen, I had learned from his mistakes. Instead of cashing out, I asked Dad to help me invest wisely. We put the money into stocks—Apple, Amazon, and a few others—and let it grow.
Years passed. My portfolio flourished, turning into something much bigger than I ever expected. Meanwhile, Liam’s car was long gone, just like his money. He never saved, never planned—just spent whatever he had in the moment. And every time he hit rock bottom, guess who he turned to? Me.
When he lost his job and couldn’t pay rent, I covered it. When his car broke down, I sent money for repairs. When he got into trouble over an unpaid loan and a furious lender was on his back, I bailed him out. Each time, he swore it was the last time.
“Just this once, bro. I swear,” he’d say.
At first, I believed him. I wanted to. But after the fourth, fifth, and sixth time? I saw the truth. He never changed.
One night, I confronted him.
“Liam, you keep blowing through money. What’s your plan?”
He laughed like I had asked the dumbest question in the world. “Plan? I just need one big break. Then I’m set.”
I sighed. “That’s what you always say.”
He grinned. “And you always help.”
That was the problem. I did. And he knew it.
I told myself I had to stop, but every time he called, desperate and begging, I gave in. Until one evening, when I opened my door and found his girlfriend, Madison, standing there.
She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking. “We need to talk.”
She pushed past me before I could respond, making herself comfortable in my living room. 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 blinked. “He got the same as me. He just spent his.”
She scoffed. “You had Daddy invest yours. Liam didn’t get that chance.”
“He could have. He chose not to.”
Her smirk faded. “You’re seriously going to hoard all that money while your own brother struggles? Why don’t you share?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t force him to burn through fifteen grand.”
Her lips curled. “You’re being selfish. He’s family. He needs your help.”
“I’ve helped him plenty. Rent, bills, bailouts. But this? No.”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’ll regret this.”
A slow burn of anger rose in my chest. “Get out.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Leave. Before I throw you out.”
Her face twisted with rage, but she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I thought that was the end of it.
I was wrong.
A week later, I found a letter in my mailbox. It looked official—thick, cream-colored paper, formal language. When I opened it, I saw Liam’s name.
The letter claimed that Grandma had “intended” for our investments to be shared equally even in the future. Since Liam had cashed out early, 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. They were bluffing.
And then I saw it—the signature at the bottom. Madison had signed it, listing herself as a legal professional.
I raised an eyebrow. She worked at a law firm, sure—but as a legal secretary, not a lawyer.
I picked up my phone and called my actual lawyer.
“You’re going to love this,” I said, reading the letter aloud.
There was a pause. Then he laughed. “Oh, this is rich.”
“She’s bluffing, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. But let me check something. Give me a day.”
A few days later, he called back, barely holding back laughter.
“Oh, this is better than I thought. Madison? She forged the letter. She altered her firm’s letterhead, inflated her job title, and made it seem like an official legal notice.” He let out a whistle. “That’s fraud.”
I blinked. “Wait—actual fraud?”
“Yep. And guess what? I forwarded it to her law firm. They fired her on the spot.”
I let out a long breath. “Wow.”
“And that’s just the beginning. She could be in real legal trouble.”
“She really thought she could fake a lawsuit?”
“She really thought you were dumb enough to fall for it.”
A week later, I got another knock on my door.
Liam stood there, looking exhausted. His usual cocky grin? Gone. He glanced at Madison, who stood behind him, arms crossed, furious.
“She lost her job,” Liam muttered.
I pretended to look surprised. “Oh, really? How shocking.”
His jaw tightened. “Come on, man. We’re in a bad spot. She’s got serious debts. We need help.”
I leaned against the doorframe. “You mean money.”
“Yeah. A loan. Just something to get us through.”
I shook my head. “Unbelievable. First, you try to scam me. Now, you’re begging me for cash?”
Madison scoffed. “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 didn’t say another word. I just slammed the door in their faces.
And for the first time in years, I felt zero guilt.
The next morning, I walked outside and froze.
All four of my tires? Slashed.
Any last bit of guilt I had? Gone.
I called the police. Then I called my lawyer.
“Oh, this just keeps getting better,” he said, laughing. “Between the fraud, the vandalism, and the threats, they’re both in serious trouble.”
Good. I was done playing nice.
Liam and Madison thought they could take what was mine. Now, they were about to learn that actions have consequences.