Chapter 1When My Mother-in-Law Destroyed My Deed, I Made Her Regret It

Four years ago, I bought a property but never moved in. Two years later, out of the blue, I started receiving overdue utility bills.

Confused beyond belief, I went back to check—and found strangers living in my house.

After work, I received a utility payment reminder on my phone.

Staring at the unfamiliar address on the screen, it took me a minute to remember that I did have a property at that location.

My mom had bought it for me during college, wanting me to have a place off-campus. But, in a last-minute decision, I ended up studying abroad, leaving the place vacant and barely furnished.

That was when it hit me: no one should be living there. So where was this utility bill coming from?

With mounting confusion, I headed to Oak Hollow Estates, following my memory.

...

Standing at the door, I noticed that the door itself looked nothing like what I remembered. The black steel door here was new, a stark contrast to the original one I had from the builder. I checked the door number again, feeling unsettled.

“808. It’s definitely this one…”

Staring at the unfamiliar black door, I caught a whiff of a foul odor leaking from inside. An uneasy feeling crept over me. I didn’t waste any time and called a locksmith.

The locksmith, Silas Truitt, arrived quickly, giving me a once-over.

“This your place?”

I nodded, digging my property deed and ID from my bag to show him.

“Of course. Here are the papers if you’d like to verify.”

Silas studied the documents and, still looking wary, handed them back.

Hoping to get inside quickly, I said, “Look, if it speeds things up, I can pay you a hundred extra, alright?”

Silas finally crouched down, opened his toolkit, and muttered under his breath, “Wasn’t there an old lady living here before?”

“What did you say?” I asked, but before he could answer, an angry voice yelled from behind us.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Something knocked my shoulder as a frail-looking old lady rushed toward Silas, jabbing a finger in his face and shouting, “How dare you, trying to steal from my home in broad daylight!”

With surprising strength, she swiped at him, her nails catching his face and leaving a scratch. Silas staggered back with a yelp, clutching his cheek, and pointed toward me.

“It’s not me! She asked me to unlock it!”

The old lady’s head snapped toward me, her eyes flickering over my face before settling on my necklace with a flash of greed.

“Oh, you little thief,” she hissed, striding toward me. “You think I’ll let you get away with this?”

As she reached for me, I stepped back, avoiding her. She shot me a quick, calculating look before dropping to the ground with a dramatic wail.

“Oh, my bones! This young woman tried to break into my home, and now she’s attacking an old lady!” she shrieked, loud enough to draw nearby residents out of their doors to watch.

It was like nothing I’d ever seen. I fought the urge to back away, but as people gathered, the woman clutched at my leg, crying out, “Don’t leave! You knocked me to the ground, and now I can’t move. You’re responsible!”

“What?!” I protested. “I never touched you! Silas here can vouch for that.”

But when I glanced at Silas, he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. The old lady’s expression twisted with smug satisfaction, her grip on my leg like a vice.

“See? Good people don’t lie for thieves. Now, if you don’t want trouble, I suggest you compensate me.”

She stared hungrily at my necklace, making her intention clear.

Taking a steadying breath, I raised my chin. “Alright. What kind of compensation are you looking for?”

Her eyes lit up, and she jabbed a finger toward my necklace. “Hospitals aren’t cheap! If you want me to forget this, leave that gold necklace as payment, and we’ll call it even.”

I nodded. “Fine. But before I hand it over, answer a couple of questions?”

Without hesitation, she agreed. “Ask away.”

I gestured at the steel door. “First, is this your place?”

“Of course it’s my place!” she snapped, not missing a beat.

“Oh, really? Then why would my property become yours?” I asked with a pointed smile.

She faltered, stammering, “I—I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I mean it literally. Why are you living in my house?”

A glint of guilt flashed in her eyes, but she squared her shoulders defiantly. “Who says it’s yours? I’ve lived here for years. What proof do you have that it belongs to you?”

“Oh, I have proof, alright.”