My Stepmom Stole $5,000 from My College Fund to Install Veneers for Herself — Karma Hit Her Hard

Who steals from their daughter? My stepmom did. She swiped $5K from my college fund for veneers. For a perfect Hollywood smile. But karma hit faster than a dental drill, leaving her with more regret than glam.

They say money can’t buy happiness, but my stepmom sure thought it could buy a million-dollar smile. The kicker? She stole from my college fund (which was set up by my late mom) to install her veneers and acted like it wasn’t a big deal. But don’t worry! Sit back, relax, and let me tell you about the day karma grew teeth and bit back.

A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

I’m Kristen, your average 17-year-old with dreams bigger than my stepmom’s ego. My mom passed away when I was young, but she left behind a college fund. It wasn’t huge, but it was a start to secure my future.

My dad, Bob, and I had been adding to it ever since, mostly from my part-time gigs tutoring kids who think “Pi” is something you eat with ice cream. And some babysitting, which paid me weekly.

Everything went well until, ta-da — enter Tracy, my stepmother and the human embodiment of a selfie stick.

An elegant senior lady holding a glass of wine | Source: Pexels

An elegant senior lady holding a glass of wine | Source: Pexels

This woman spends more time in front of the mirror than a mime pretending to be trapped in a box. I swear, if vanity were an Olympic sport, Tracy would make Narcissus look like an amateur.

She’s so obsessed with appearances. Her clothes, hair, and nails always have to be perfect. It’s like she’s trying to be a real-life Barbie. (Sorry, Barbie!)

She spends hours in front of the mirror but never has time for anything that really matters, like, oh I don’t know, being a decent human. It’s like she’s got a mirror installed in her brain.

A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels

A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels

One fateful day, I came home to find Tracy grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

“Kristen, darling!” she chirped, her voice sweeter than a hummingbird’s diet. “Guess what your amazing stepmom is going to do?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Finally learn how to use the washing machine without flooding the laundry room?”

A young girl crossing her arms | Source: Midjourney

A young girl crossing her arms | Source: Midjourney

Tracy’s smile faltered for a microsecond before returning full force. “No, silly! I’m getting veneers! Isn’t that fabulous?”

“Uh, congrats?” I muttered, wondering why this warranted a full-blown announcement.

“Oh, don’t look so glum!” she gushed. “This is cause for celebration! And the best part? I found a way to make it happen without breaking the bank.”

That’s when my stomach dropped faster than a skydiver with a faulty parachute. “What do you mean?”

A senior woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels

A senior woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels

Tracy’s smile widened like a Cheshire cat, except her teeth looked more like a set of construction cones dipped in mustard.

“Well, I borrowed a little from your college fund. Just $5,000!”

I stood there, mouth agape, feeling like I’d just been sucker-punched by the Tooth Fairy on steroids. “You did WHAT? You STOLE my college fund?”

Tracy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Stole? I’m family. It’s not a big deal, honey!”

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“You had NO RIGHT! That money’s for my future. My mom set it up for me.”

“Oh, save the theatrics! It’s just money. And your father agreed to it,” Tracy winked.

Now, that was a lie bigger than her future dental bill. Dad wouldn’t agree to this in a million years. He’s more likely to willingly sit through a marathon of Tracy’s favorite reality TV shows.

A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney

A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney

I stormed out, slamming my bedroom door hard enough to make the house shake. I immediately called Dad, who was just as shocked as I was.

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. In Dad’s terms, that meant “I’ll mention it once and hope it magically resolves itself.”

A few weeks later, Tracy got her veneers. She strutted around the house like she was America’s Next Top Model, flashing her new teeth at every opportunity. It was like living with a deranged lighthouse.

A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, Kristen,” she cooed one evening, “don’t forget to smile at your little tutoring class. Although,” she paused, giving me a once-over, “maybe you should keep your mouth closed. You wouldn’t want to scare those kids away with those ugly alligator teeth of yours!”

I bit my tongue so hard I thought I might need veneers myself. “Right,” I muttered. “Because blowing five grand on fake choppers is totally normal, yeah?”

Tracy’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it, Missy. Remember who puts a roof over your head.”

“Pretty sure that’s still Dad,” I shot back, slamming the door behind me.

A closed door upstairs | Source: Pexels

A closed door upstairs | Source: Pexels

A month after her “transformation,” Tracy decided to throw a BBQ to show off her new chompers to the entire neighborhood. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion but with more potato salad.

“Ladies, gather ’round!” Tracy announced on the fateful day, clinking her wine glass with a spoon. “I simply must tell you about my transformation!”

Yeah, more like a sci-fi metamorphosis from yellow-stained vampire fangs to a Hollywood smile! I rolled my eyes so hard I could practically see my brain.

A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels

A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels

“It’s all thanks to the marvelous Dr. Kapoor,” Tracy gushed. “He’s not just a dentist, he’s an artist! A smile sculptor! A tooth whisperer!”

“Did he whisper to your wallet too?” I muttered under my breath.

Tracy continued, oblivious to my sarcasm. “And of course, some smart investments made it all possible!”

I nearly choked on my lemonade. Smart investments? Is that what we’re calling theft these days?

Two elegantly dressed women laughing | Source: Pexels

Two elegantly dressed women laughing | Source: Pexels

Just then, Tracy set her wine glass down and reached for a piece of corn on the cob. “You know, ladies, life is all about taking chances and—”

C-R-A-C-K!

The sound echoed across the backyard like a gunshot. Tracy’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth faster than you could say “dental disaster.”

“Oh my God, Tracy! Are you okay?” one of her friends gasped.

But Tracy was far from okay. There, nestled in the butter of her corn on the cob, was one of her precious veneers and whatever was left of her rotten tooth. The gap in her smile was so big, it could swallow a whole lollipop!

Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney

Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney

“I… I…” Tracy stammered, suddenly sounding like she was auditioning for the role of Sylvester the Cat. “Ekthcuthe me!”

She bolted into the house, leaving behind a yard full of bewildered guests and one very satisfied stepdaughter trying desperately not to burst into maniacal laughter.

The aftermath was more glorious than I could have imagined. Tracy became a dental hermit, refusing to leave the house. When she finally called Dr. Kapoor, I overheard a conversation that was music to my ears and nails on a chalkboard to hers.

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

“What do you mean it’ll cotht more to fikth?” Tracy shrieked into the phone. “Thith ith your fault! You thaid thethe were top quality!”

Turns out, Tracy had opted for the bargain basement veneers. The cherry on the cake? She would have to pay a hefty chunk to redo the whole veneer! Karma, as they say, is a witch with a capital B, and she had just given Tracy a dental spanking.

Dad, finally growing a backbone (I checked outside for flying pigs), confronted Tracy that evening.

“We need to talk about Kristen’s college fund,” he said, his voice firm (for the first time in a very looooong time! Way to go, Daddy!)

A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney

A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney

Tracy, still hiding her broken smile behind her hand, tried to deflect. “Bob, honey, now’th not the thime. Can’t you thee I’m in a crithith?”

Dad stood his ground. “Crisis? You? No, Tracy. This ends now. You’re going to pay back every cent you took from Kristen’s fund. And if you can’t… well, I think we need to reevaluate this whole situation.”

For the first time since I’d known her, Tracy looked genuinely scared. It was like watching a deer in the headlights (if the deer had really bad dental work and a speech impediment!)

A serious-looking senior woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

A serious-looking senior woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

In the weeks that followed, Tracy became a recluse that would make even the most solitary monk seem like a party animal.

The neighborhood buzzed with gossip about her “dental disaster,” and she couldn’t show her face without someone asking about her “million-dollar thmile.”

As for me? Well, Dad made good on his promise. He’s been working overtime to rebuild my college fund, and Tracy’s been suspiciously quiet about her spending habits.

Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels

I guess it’s hard to argue when you sound like you’re trying to whistle through a mouthful of marbles.

The other day, I caught her staring longingly at a magazine ad for dental implants. I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little payback.

“Hey, Tracy,” I called out, flashing her my perfectly imperfect “alligator-tooth” smile. “Need thome invethment advithe?”

She scowled and stomped off, but I swear I saw Dad trying to hide a smirk.

A young lady standing in a room | Source: Midjourney

A young lady standing in a room | Source: Midjourney

So yeah, my stepmom stole $5,000 from my college fund for a set of fake teeth that made her sound like she was auditioning for the role of the Big Bad Wolf with a speech impediment. But in the end? Karma gave her something to really chew on…

And me? I learned that sometimes, the most valuable things in life aren’t the ones you can buy. They’re the lessons you learn along the way, and the satisfaction of watching justice being served, one broken veneer at a time.

A young lady lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A young lady lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

Plus, I now have enough material to write a bestselling memoir: From Fangs to Fortune: How My Stepmom’s Dental Disaster Saved My College Fund.” How is it?

And who knows? Maybe I’ll even dedicate it to Tracy. After all, without her, I wouldn’t have this toothsome tale to tell.

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney

My Husband Gave His Mother All Our Savings Without Asking Me — So I Taught Him a Lesson He’d Never Forget

When I got a notification that nearly all our savings had been drained from our joint account, I assumed it was a hack or a mistake. It wasn’t. My husband, Mark, had done the unthinkable, and what I did next ensured he’d never forget it.

There’s a saying that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats his mother.

In Mark’s case, I learned that sometimes, a man can treat his mother too well. For years, I let it slide, but this time, he crossed a line so bold it couldn’t be ignored.

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

To be honest, Mark wasn’t a bad man.

He was a decent father, a loyal husband, and a diligent worker. But there was one glaring flaw in his otherwise steady demeanor. His mother, Melissa.

At 71, she wielded an influence over him that defied logic.

If Melissa wanted something, Mark would find a way to make it happen, no matter how ridiculous or inconvenient it might be.

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

One time, she decided she needed a new car, and Mark co-signed a loan we could barely afford.

Another time, she convinced him to buy her a state-of-the-art recliner because “her back couldn’t take the old one anymore.”

These decisions, while irritating, never truly jeopardized our marriage.

But this time was different.

A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney

That day began like any other.

I was at work, finishing up my shift, when my phone buzzed with a text. It was a notification from the bank stating that nearly all the money in our joint savings account had been withdrawn.

My stomach dropped.

At first, I thought it had to be a fraud. My mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Was our account hacked? Had someone stolen our details?

I immediately called the bank officer who managed our savings account to report the issue.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

“Jessica, the withdrawal was processed in person,” he said, his voice calm and professional.

“In person?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

“Yes, ma’am. Your husband came in earlier today to transfer the funds to another account. Was that not authorized?”

“Oh, right,” I said, pretending I knew about it. “I must’ve forgotten. Thank you.”

My hands trembled as I hung up.

Why would Mark empty our savings account? What emergency could possibly justify taking nearly everything we had worked so hard to save? And that too behind my back?

A person counting money | Source: Pexels

A person counting money | Source: Pexels

I debated calling him immediately but decided against it. This was a conversation that needed to happen face-to-face.

When Mark walked through the door that evening, I could feel something was off. He had that nervous energy about him like a child trying to avoid eye contact with a teacher after breaking a rule.

“How was your day?” I asked, my voice calm despite the storm brewing inside me.

“Fine, fine,” he replied, setting his keys on the counter without looking up.

Keys on a table | Source: Pexels

Keys on a table | Source: Pexels

“Great,” I said. “So, maybe you can tell me why you emptied our joint savings account without so much as a word?”

He froze mid-step, his back to me. Then he slowly turned but hesitated to make eye contact.

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, that, Mark,” I said as my voice trembled.

“Look, honey,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s for the family. For the long term.”

“What. Did. You. Do?” I demanded.

And that’s when he said it. His tone was so casual, you’d think he was talking about picking up milk from the store.

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“I gave the money to my mother because she needed it to buy a country house. It’s an investment, really. She said it’ll be ours when she passes, and until then, she’ll rent it out for income. She needed it more than us right now.”

For a moment, I didn’t react. I just stood there as I tried to process what he’d just said.

“You what?” My voice came out in a low whisper, though it sounded like it was coming from a million miles away.

A woman confronting her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman confronting her husband | Source: Midjourney

Mark shifted on his feet, as if he were trying to downplay the gravity of what he’d just admitted.

“It’s not a big deal, Jess,” he said. “She’s family. And you know, the house will eventually be ours anyway. It’s like an early inheritance.”

“An early inheritance?” I repeated. “Are you serious?”

“Yes!” He gestured with his hands like he was explaining something to a child. “She’s going to rent it out, and the income will help her cover expenses. And when the time comes…”

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“When the time comes?” I interrupted, slamming my hands down on the kitchen counter. “Mark, that was our money! Money we worked for, saved for, and planned to use for emergencies. For us. Not for your mother to play landlord with!”

“It’s not like we needed it right now,” he muttered, avoiding my eyes.

“Not like we needed it right now?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Mark, you didn’t even ask me! You emptied our savings account, our life savings, without so much as a conversation. Do you have any idea how betrayed I feel right now?”

A woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not like I was trying to hurt you, Jess,” he said. “I thought you’d understand.”

“Understand?” I laughed. “You think I’d understand you giving away all our money to your mother? For a house? Without even consulting me?”

Mark sighed, rubbing his temples like he was the one who had to deal with the problem. “Look, I know it seems bad now, but in the long run, this is a good thing for the family. She’s family, Jess. She needed help.”

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“And what about this family, Mark?” I shot back, motioning between the two of us. “What about the future we’re supposed to be building together? Do I not matter in your plans for the ‘long run’?”

“It’s not like that,” he began. “I just didn’t want to burden you with the decision. I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” I cut him off.

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him as my eyes searched for some hint of remorse. Some sign that he realized just how much damage he’d done.

But all I saw was a man who thought he’d done the right thing, even if it meant betraying his partner.

That’s when I knew.

If Mark couldn’t see the problem here, I would have to make him see it. And I would have to do it in a way he’d never forget.

A man in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man in his house | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up with a clear head and a sharper resolve than I’d felt in years. Mark had crossed a line, and if he thought a half-hearted apology and some empty promises would fix this, he had another thing coming.

I started by gathering information.

You see, revenge isn’t about anger. It’s about strategy. And my strategy required precision.

First, I paid a visit to the county records office.

It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. I was there for Melissa’s new country house, purchased outright with our hard-earned savings.

A close-up shot of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

That was the first time I saw the property. It was a small but picturesque house with a neatly fenced yard. I made a copy of every document I could find and left without a shred of guilt.

Next, I scheduled a meeting with the bank manager.

It turns out that Mark had made one critical oversight: while he’d emptied the bulk of our savings, he hadn’t closed the account entirely. There were still a few hundred dollars left, and more importantly, my name was still attached to the account.

A woman counting money | Source: Pexels

A woman counting money | Source: Pexels

Legally, I had just as much claim to the funds and the assets they’d been used to purchase, as he did.

With the bank’s information in hand, I moved on to the next phase of my plan.

I hired a lawyer, but it wasn’t just any lawyer. It was the best one in town.

A sharp, no-nonsense woman named Linda who had a reputation for leaving no stone unturned.

A lawyer standing in her office | Source: Pexels

A lawyer standing in her office | Source: Pexels

“Let me get this straight,” Linda said during our first meeting. “Your husband used joint funds to buy a house for his mother, without your knowledge or consent?”

“That’s right,” I replied.

Linda’s eyes gleamed. “Well, that’s a textbook breach of fiduciary duty in a marriage. We can work with this.”

Over the next few weeks, Linda and I built our case.

A lawyer going through documents | Source: Pexels

A lawyer going through documents | Source: Pexels

In states that follow equitable distribution laws, any asset purchased during a marriage, even if it’s in someone else’s name, can be considered marital property if joint funds were used.

Mark had no idea that his “investment” had essentially tied Melissa’s precious house to our divorce proceedings.

While I worked quietly behind the scenes, Mark went about his days as though nothing had happened. I guess he believed the storm had passed, and I let him think that.

Two months later, everything was ready. The court proceedings had been tense, to say the least.

A judge signing documents | Source: Pexels

A judge signing documents | Source: Pexels

Mark had been served with the divorce papers and had hired his own lawyer, who tried to argue that the house was solely his mother’s property. But the evidence was undeniable. Our joint funds had been used to purchase the house, and as such, it was considered marital property.

The judge ultimately ruled that Mark’s actions had breached his responsibilities as a spouse by unilaterally using our savings without my consent.

As part of the divorce settlement, I was granted half ownership of the property.

A woman standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

Mark’s reaction in court was explosive. As the judge ruled in my favor, he slammed his hands on the table, his face red with rage.

“This is ridiculous!” he shouted, glaring at me like I’d betrayed him. His lawyer tried to calm him, but Mark’s fury only grew.

“You’re destroying this family, Jessica!” he spat as we left the courtroom.

“Oh no, Mark,” I said coolly. “You did that all on your own.”

A woman standing in a court | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a court | Source: Midjourney

A few weeks later, I drove out to the country house while Melissa was out of town.

Over there, I met Steve, the man who wanted to purchase my half of the house. We finalized the deal right there, while Melissa and Mark had no idea what I was up to.

A man signing papers | Source: Pexels

A man signing papers | Source: Pexels

A week later, Melissa returned and found Steve’s pickup truck parked in the driveway, three dogs lounging in the yard, and a bonfire pit smoldering in the back.

She called me, screaming, “What have you done?”

“I sold my half, Melissa,” I said calmly. “It’s not my problem anymore.”

Mark called next, ranting about “family betrayal,” but I hung up mid-sentence.

Now divorced, I’ve never felt freer. My revenge was complete, and for once, the cost was all theirs to bear.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When Ella hears strange noises coming from her attic while her husband, Aaron, is away, she fears the worst. But nothing could prepare her for the shocking discovery of her mother-in-law, Diane, hiding upstairs… What is going on?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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