When Layla’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 Layla has a lesson of her own to teach. As betrayal unfolds and love crumbles, she delivers a final gift they’ll never forget.
When my MIL-to-be, Denise, found out I inherited $500,000 from my late grandmother, she suddenly became extra welcoming.
One night before our wedding, she pulled me aside, smiling like a cat who just cornered a mouse.
“I have something for you, sweetheart.” She handed me an envelope.
I opened it, expecting some sentimental note. Instead?
A list.
A demand list.
A Cartier bracelet “as a symbol of love and appreciation.” A Rolex for her husband. A car for my fiancé’s sister. Oh, and a $2,000 monthly “family contribution” to prove my commitment.
I stared at her. “Are you serious?”
Denise’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s just how we do things. You’re lucky to have this money—we need to know you’re serious about US.”
I felt my blood boil. My grandmother died, and this woman acted like I won the lottery.
Then she sealed her fate.
“If you really love my son, you’ll do this.”
I didn’t yell. I didn’t storm out. Instead, I smiled sweetly.
“Oh, Denise, you’re absolutely right. Family takes care of family.”
Her eyes sparkled with greed.
I spent the next few days preparing.
That Sunday, I returned with beautifully wrapped gifts. One by one, I handed them out.
Denise’s hands trembled as she opened her special box.
To her? A Cartier box.
She gasped as she opened it… only to find a plastic bracelet from the dollar store.
To Elena? A toy car.
Father-in-law? A fake watch.
For the family vacation? A family pamphlet for a budget bus tour of the city.
And that $20,000 loan? A Monopoly “bank loan” card.
Denise’s smile vanished. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
I batted my eyes innocently.
“Oh, I thought I’d start with symbolic gifts. You know, just a gesture to show you that I’m serious about the family.”
Her face turned red.
“This isn’t funny. Not at all.”
I leaned across the table.
“No, Denise. What’s not funny is you demanding that I buy my way into your family like I’m some outsider who needs to pay a membership fee. I’ve been in this family for three years. And you’re acting like I’m a stranger!”
Jake, my ficancé, finally spoke.
“Babe, you’re overreacting again!” he sighed.
“No, Jake,” I said. “I’m not. Your mother tried to manipulate me into handing over my inheritance like it was owed to them. And the fact that you didn’t shut it down when it happened?”
I took a deep breath, then dropped the final bomb.
“Oh, and don’t worry about our engagement, Jake. Consider it canceled. Consider us canceled. I’m done.”
And with that? I walked out.
I wasn’t crying.
I thought I might. I thought maybe, after three years of loving someone, of building a life together, of saying yes to forever… that I’d feel something other than this quiet, detached numbness.
I didn’t even look up when Jake walked in.
“What… what is this?” he gestured wildly to the boxes, his voice rising in pure, unfiltered panic. “Are you… are you seriously kicking me out?”
“Jake, just stop talking. I loved you. I really did. But the moment you let your mother treat me like a walking ATM, without even defending me? That’s when I realized I loved the idea of us more than the reality.”
But it was already done.
Jake blew up my phone for weeks. Apologies. Excuses. Pleading.
His final message?
“My mom got carried away, but we can move past this. I love you.”
I never replied.
As for Denise? She tried smearing me online. She called me a gold digger, among other things.
But I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me.
I used my inheritance to buy myself a beautiful home, one that no greedy in-laws would ever step foot in.
And let me tell you, that was the best investment I ever made.