My Parents Gave My Sister A Luxury Villa And Gifted Me An Abandoned Parking Lot. Now I Own Their Foreclosed Home. Am I The Jerk For Making Them Pay Rent?
The Final Deal
I smirked.
“Wouldn’t I?”
Because here’s the thing: I had been waiting for this moment. After Emily’s meltdown, after their petty sabotage attempts, I knew they’d come crawling. So I made a backup plan. While they were busy drowning in debt, I had been buying property, expanding. And guess what? Their house, their childhood home—the bank had listed it for sale, and I had bought it.
Mom’s face went white.
“No,” she whispered. “You’re lying.”
I pulled out my phone, scrolled, and held up the email confirmation: Logan Reed, New Property Purchase Confirmed.
Dad’s hands shook.
“You bought our house?” he croaked.
I tilted my head.
“You mean the house you told me wasn’t my home anymore? The one where you let Emily treat me like garbage?”
Mom grabbed my arm.
“Please, Logan. We’ll do anything. Just don’t take our home.”
I pulled away.
“Now you understand what it feels like to have something ripped away.”
She started crying, but I didn’t care. And then, the final blow. I looked between them and took a deep breath.
“You know what,” I said slowly. “I’m not heartless. I’ll give you the house.”
Mom gasped.
“You will?”
Dad let out a shaky breath of relief. I smirked.
“Sure. On one condition.”
They both nodded frantically.
“Anything.”
I took out a pen and paper from my pocket. A contract I had already prepared.
“I’ll let you live in it, but I own it. And you will pay me rent every single month. No delays.”
Mom’s jaw dropped.
“Logan, you can’t be serious.”
I leaned in.
“Oh, I’m deadly serious.”
Dad swallowed hard.
“How much?”
I named my price. It was high. Very high. More than fair for the market, but high enough that they’d feel the weight of it every single month.
Mom’s face twisted in horror.
“You’re charging us to live in our own home?” she spat.
“No,” I said with a grin. “I’m charging you to live in my home.”
Silence. Dad exhaled.
“We don’t have a choice, do we?”
I shrugged.
“Of course you do. There are plenty of cheap motels in town.”
Mom glared at me, but she knew she had lost. Slowly, with trembling hands, Dad signed the contract. Mom snatched the pen, digging it into the paper so hard I thought she’d tear it. When they finished, I took the contract, folded it neatly, and slid it into my pocket.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
I turned, leaving them standing there. Dad slumped against the wall, rubbing his temples. Mom wiped her tears, her face a mask of pure humiliation.
They had spent their entire lives belittling me, laughing at me, treating me like I was nothing. Now I owned their home. I owned their future. I owned them. And as I walked back into my business, I smiled. They thought I’d be nothing. Now I owned everything, and they had nothing.
