My Grandma Gave Us Equal Share Portfolios as Kids – My Brother Sold His, and Now He and His Girlfriend Want Mine

My Brother Squandered His Inheritance—Now He and His Girlfriend Demand a Share of My Wealth

When our grandmother gifted my brother and me equal investment portfolios as kids, she hoped to set us up for a secure future. But while I let mine grow, my brother cashed his out for a brand-new car. Now, years later, he and his girlfriend have come knocking—demanding a share of my success.

A Tale of Two Inheritances

When I was four and my brother, Liam, was sixteen, our grandmother set up investment portfolios for both of us. It was her way of ensuring we had a strong financial foundation.

Our dad managed the accounts until we were old enough to take over. Liam, being older, got access first.

At 19, he cashed out every penny—roughly $15,000—to buy a brand-new Honda. He was so proud, revving the engine like he had just won the lottery.

Meanwhile, I watched. I learned. And I decided I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

By the time I turned eighteen, I had seen Liam burn through his inheritance without a second thought. I asked Dad to help me invest wisely. We put money into Apple, diversified across other stocks, and let it grow.

By the time I had full control, my portfolio had turned into something significant. Bigger than I ever imagined.

Meanwhile, Liam’s car was long gone. And so was his money.

Liam’s Financial Woes

I never rubbed it in. I wasn’t that kind of person. But over the years, the contrast between us became painfully clear.

I had financial security.
He had regrets.

Liam never saved. He never planned ahead. And I helped him.

  • 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 in trouble with a loan shark, I bailed him out.

Every time, it was the same promise:

“Just this once, bro. I swear.”

And every time, I believed him.

The Confrontation That Changed Everything

One night, after too many bailouts, I confronted him.

“You keep blowing through money. What’s your plan?” I asked.

Liam laughed. “Plan? I just need to get back on my feet. One big break, and 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.

But that changed when his girlfriend showed up at my door.

The Demand

It was late. I wasn’t expecting anyone. But when I opened the door, there stood Madison, Liam’s girlfriend.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking. She was dressed sharp—like she had just come from work—but her eyes were full of arrogance.

“We need to talk,” she said, pushing past me before I could respond.

I turned, shutting the door behind 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. “Excuse me?”

“You had Daddy invest yours. Liam didn’t get that chance.”

I folded my arms. “He could have. He chose not to.”

Madison’s smirk disappeared. “You’re seriously going to hoard all that money while your own brother struggles? Why don’t you share?”

I let out a short laugh. “I didn’t force him to burn through fifteen grand.”

Her lips curled. “You’re being selfish. He’s family.”

“I’ve helped him plenty—rent, bills, bailouts. But this?” I shook my head. “Not happening.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’ll regret this.”

I took a slow breath. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

I pointed to the door. “Leave. Before I throw you out.”

Her face twisted in rage, but she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

The Fake Lawsuit

A week later, an official-looking letter arrived in my mailbox. Thick, cream-colored paper. Formal legal language.

At first, I thought it was junk mail.

Then I saw Liam’s name.

The letter claimed that our grandmother had “intended” for our investments to be shared equally—even in the future. Since Liam’s portfolio had been worth only $15,000, I was now “legally and morally obligated” to give him half of mine.

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.

And then I saw the signature.

Madison.

She had signed her name, listing herself as a legal professional.

There was just one problem—Madison wasn’t a lawyer.

She was a legal secretary.

I called my lawyer.

“You’re going to love this,” I said, reading the letter aloud.

He laughed. “Oh, this is rich.”

“She’s bluffing, right?” I asked.

“Oh, absolutely. But give me a day—I’m going to check something.”

Karma Hits Back

A few days later, my lawyer called back.

“Oh, this is better than I thought,” he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

“Do tell.”

“Your brother’s girlfriend? Madison? She forged details in the letter. She altered firm letterhead, inflated her job title, and made it seem like an official legal notice.” He let out a low whistle. “That’s fraud.”

I blinked. “Wait—actual fraud?”

“Yep. And guess what? I forwarded it to her law firm.”

He chuckled. “They fired her on the spot.”

The Final Straw

A week later, Liam showed up at my door.

His usual cocky grin? Gone. Instead, he looked desperate.

“Hey, man,” he muttered. “Can we talk?”

I sighed. “What do you want, Liam?”

He hesitated, then stepped aside. Behind him stood Madison—arms crossed, furious.

“She lost her job,” Liam muttered.

I feigned surprise. “Oh, really? How shocking.”

His jaw tightened. “Come on, man. She messed up, okay? But we’re in a bad spot. She’s got debts—serious debts.”

I leaned against the doorframe. “And that’s my problem because…?”

He looked me in the eye. “I need help.”

“You mean money.”

He exhaled sharply. “Yeah. A loan. Just something to get us through.”

I let out a short laugh. “First, you try to scam me. Now, you’re begging me?”

Madison scoffed. “Oh, come on. You have more than enough. You’re just being greedy.”

I grinned.

“Greedy? You literally tried to steal from me.”

Then I slammed the door in their faces.

The Final Blow

The next morning, I stepped outside and stopped cold.

All four of my tires? Slashed.

Any last bit of guilt I had?

Gone.

I called the police.

Then I called my lawyer.

Because this time, Liam and Madison were going to learn the hard way—actions have consequences.

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