When Emily's inheritance comes through, her future mother-in-law sees dollar signs and hands her a demand list of gifts she "owes" the family. But Emily has a lesson of her own to teach. As betrayal unfolds and love crumbles, she delivers a final gift they'll never forget.
I thought my relationship with Daniel was perfect.
Until his mother showed me who she really was.
Daniel and I had been together for three years, and when he proposed, I was over the moon. We had a beautiful little life together—our cozy apartment, a love that felt unbreakable, a cat named Oliver, and dreams of a future where we'd build something even greater.
Then, my grandmother passed away.
It was heartbreaking.
My grandmother was everything I wanted to be when I was older. She had practically raised me, and the loss cut deep. But she had always told me she wanted to make sure I was taken care of.
"Emily, my child," she told me. "Out of all my grandchildren, you're the one that will always be special to me. From the time you were born, I knew that you would be the mini-me. I will always take care of you, my girl. Even after I die."
And she did.
She left me $500,000.
I wasn’t expecting it. Of course not. I wasn’t even ready for it.
Honestly, I didn’t know what to do with that kind of money. But when my future mother-in-law, Patricia, found out?
Suddenly, she had plenty of ideas. And none of them involved me.
It happened a week after Daniel told his family about my inheritance.
We were at Sunday dinner at his parents’ house when Patricia pulled me aside, her usual sweet but calculated smile on her face.
"I have something for you, sweetheart. I know that it’s been difficult, mourning the loss of your grandmother. But it’s time to move on now. The sun keeps shining, Emily," she cooed, handing me an envelope.
I smiled, expecting maybe a heartfelt letter or some kind of family heirloom. Something sentimental, really.
Instead?
It was a list.
Not just any list. A demand list.
Gifts I was expected to buy as Daniel’s fiancée. Before I could be "fully accepted" into their family.
I skimmed the page, my stomach twisting as my eyes landed on each insane request.
I felt my face burning.
I let out a small, forced laugh as Patricia cut into the pecan pie for dessert. Olivia was scooping out ice cream. Daniel was topping up the wine. My father-in-law was rummaging for a toothpick.
"You’re joking… right? This is just one big prank?"
Patricia tilted her head, her smile never faltering.
"Oh, honey. This is just what’s expected of you. You’re about to marry into this family, and we take care of each other. You’re lucky to have this opportunity."
Lucky?
My grandmother had died. And this woman was acting like I had just hit the lottery?
What the hell was happening?
And then she said something that sealed her fate.
"If you really love my son, you’ll do this."
I didn’t argue. I didn’t storm out.
Instead, I forced the sweetest smile I could muster.
"Oh, Patricia," I gushed. "I totally get it. You’re right. Family takes care of family. I’d love to do this. For you… for everyone. Maybe I’ll even throw in a pair of gold cufflinks for Daniel."
Her eyes gleamed with undisguised greed.
"I knew you’d understand, sweetheart," she said. "Here’s a slice of pie, Emily. Enjoy!"
I accepted the pie, and we all sat in silence. Patricia spoke about models of cars that she thought Olivia would like. She told me that she would send me links to the bracelet she wanted.
The entire time, I just smiled.
Later that night, I sat across from Daniel in our tiny apartment, the envelope resting between us on the coffee table like a loaded gun. Oliver slept on the carpet, cozy and content.
I had said yes to Patricia’s demented list. Smiled. Nodded. Acted like it all made perfect sense. But inside?
Inside, I was raging.
Because my grandmother, my family, had just died. I was supposed to be mourning her, honoring her memory, and figuring out how to breathe without her in my life.
Instead, I was sitting there with a demand list like I had won the lottery and not lost the last person who truly loved me unconditionally.
I wanted to cry.
Not just because of the list, but because it proved something I hadn’t wanted to admit.
They didn’t see me as family.
Not really.
Because if they did, they wouldn’t be trying to cash in on my loss. They wouldn’t be turning my grief into their payday.
I swallowed hard, pressing my fingers against my temples.
"I said yes," I said, my voice hollow. "I told your mom I’d do it. And you sat there and just ate pie."
Daniel blinked at me like he wasn’t expecting that.
"Oh. Well… that’s good, right?"
"Is it?" I let out a breathy, bitter laugh.
"Babe, you know how my mom is. It’s just a gesture more than anything," he frowned.
A gesture.
I stared at him for a long moment, my grief and my rage swirling together into something sharp.
"You know what?" I whispered.
"What?"
"You’re right. I’m overthinking it."
"See?" he exhaled in relief. "It’s not a big deal."
I nodded.
"I’m going to bed. You fill Oliver’s bowl and give him some fresh water."
In my head, I was already planning. Because if this family wanted a gesture, I was going to give them one.
I spent the next few days preparing.
And then, the following Sunday, I returned to Patricia’s house with gifts.
One by one, I handed out boxes or gift bags.
To her? A Cartier box—with a plastic bracelet from the dollar store. To Olivia? A toy car. To my father-in-law? A fake Rolex. For the family vacation? A budget bus tour pamphlet. For the $20,000 loan? A Monopoly "bank loan" card.
And for Daniel? A breakup.
Because I was done.
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This is Part 3 of an ongoing story. Below is a brief recap of the previous storyline. If you haven’t read the earlier parts, start here.
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