My Nephew Secretly Listed My $385k Retirement Cabin For Sale While I Was Living In It. He Called Me “selfish” For Not Giving Him My House For His “business.” So I Called The Cops In Front Of His Paying Guests.

“Brandon, I’ve done the market research, Uncle Bob. Properties like this can charge $200 per person per night. If we host, say, six people at a time, that’s $1,200 a day.” he continued.

“Even if we’re only booked 20 days a month, that’s $24,000 a month in revenue.” he added.

“This cabin barely fits one person comfortably.” I said.

“That’s the beauty of it. We’d market it as an intimate, exclusive experience. Small groups only.” he replied.

“I’d handle all the booking, the marketing, the guest communication. You wouldn’t have to do anything except collect your share of the profits.” he said.

“My share?” I asked.

“I’m thinking 60 to 40. 60 for you since it’s your property, 40 for me since I’m doing all the work. Though honestly, given the amount of work I’ll be putting in, 50 to 50 would be more fair.” he replied.

I stared at him.

“Brandon, I don’t want to run a business. I don’t want strangers in my home. I moved here specifically to be alone and quiet. The answer is no.” I said.

His smile faltered slightly.

“Come on, Uncle Bob, don’t be so close-minded. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you.” he said.

“Maybe not for me.” I replied.

“You’re really going to let this place just sit here unused?” he asked.

“It’s not unused. I live here.” I said.

“You know what I mean. You’re one person in a place that could generate serious income. That’s just wasteful. Selfish, honestly.” he said.

The word hung in the air between us. Selfish.

“I think you should leave,” I said quietly.

Brandon held up his hands.

“Okay, okay. I can see you need time to think about it. That’s fine. I’ll leave you my business plan. Just look it over, sleep on it. We’ll talk in a few days.” he said.

He left a folder on my table and headed for the door.

“By the way,” he said, turning back.

“I already started building the website. Just a placeholder for now, but check it out. Blue Ridge Digital Retreat has a nice ring to it, right?” he said.

The Digital Hostage

He was gone before I could respond. I should have called him immediately and told him to take the website down.

I should have called Linda and told her to get her son under control. Instead, I made the mistake of thinking it would blow over—that Brandon would lose interest and move on to the next scheme like he always did.

3 days later, my phone started ringing. A number I didn’t recognize with a Virginia area code.

“Hello?” I said.

“Hi, is this Blue Ridge Digital Retreat?” a voice asked.

“No,” I said. “Who is this?”

“Oh, sorry. I found your listing online. I’m trying to book a stay for my team, six people for a week in October. Is this not the right number?” the caller asked.

My stomach dropped.

“What listing?” I asked.

“The one on remote work retreats.com. It has this number listed as the contact.” they replied.

I thanked them and hung up. Then I opened my laptop and searched for Blue Ridge Digital Retreat.

There it was: a professional-looking website with photos of my cabin, my deck, my view. The description called it a boutique retreat space for digital entrepreneurs and remote teams.

The pricing was exactly what Brandon had mentioned: $200 per person per night with a six-person maximum. And it was taking bookings.

There was a calendar showing availability, a contact form, and my phone number listed at the bottom. I called Brandon immediately.

It went to voicemail.

“Brandon, this is Bob. Take down that website right now. You do not have permission to advertise my property. Call me back immediately.” I said.

He didn’t call back. Linda did.

“Bobby, Brandon told me you saw the website. Isn’t it beautiful? He worked so hard on it.” she said.

“Linda, he listed my property as a business without my permission. That’s not okay. He needs to take it down right now.” I said.

“But he’s already getting inquiries! Real interest, Bobby. This could really work.” she said.

“I don’t care if he’s getting interest. It’s my property, and I said no. Tell him to take it down or I will take legal action.” I said.

“Legal action? Bobby, he’s your nephew. He’s family. Why are you being so hostile to someone who’s just trying to better himself?” she asked.

“He’s not trying to better himself, Linda. He’s trying to use my property without permission. There’s a difference.” I said.

“You have this whole place to yourself. 6 acres. You can’t share it for a few weeks to help family after everything we’ve been through together?” she asked.

“What we’ve been through together has nothing to do with this. Mom and dad would be so disappointed in you right now.” I told her.

“Mom and dad would have told Brandon to respect other people’s property.” I added.

Linda hung up on me.