The man at my door looked like trouble—a stranger with hard eyes and a crooked smile. But when he opened his mouth, he didn’t ask for directions or offer a sales pitch. His words made my blood run cold and the demand he made next changed everything.
I had just put our four-year-old down for his afternoon nap when the doorbell rang. Not a polite ding-dong—this was an aggressive, finger-jamming assault on the button. The kind of ring that made you think someone was delivering terrible news.
Senior man knocking on the front door of a house | Source: Pexels
I grabbed a dish towel from the counter, wiping my hands as I headed for the door. A thought crossed my mind: maybe it was the delivery guy, frantic over a missing package. But when I swung the door open, I was greeted by someone far more unsettling.
The man standing there looked rough like he’d spent decades punching through life with bare fists and losing more often than not. Late 50s, maybe, with a slumped posture and a face that hadn’t seen sunscreen in decades.
Closeup of a senior man | Source: Midjourney
His eyes flitted around the hallway, lingering on the marble floors, the chandelier, the subtle touches of a comfortable life. Then his gaze snapped back to me, a crooked smile spreading across his weathered face.
“Emily,” he said, his voice a strange mix of gravel and nerve. “It’s me. Your father.”
I blinked. For a second, I thought I’d misheard him. “I’m sorry, what?”
He shifted his weight, clearly enjoying my confusion. “Your father,” he repeated, louder this time, as though that would make it sink in. “You don’t recognize me?”
“No,” I said flatly, gripping the edge of the door. “I don’t.”
Senior woman standing in a room with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney
And I didn’t. I had no memories of this man, and yet his presence felt like a hand yanking open a closet I’d sealed shut years ago. My biological father was a shadow, a piece of my past I’d worked hard to forget. And now, here he was, standing on my porch, smug and uninvited.
“That’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “I’m not here for pleasantries. I’m here to claim what’s mine.”
My stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“Half,” he said. “Of everything. Half of your life.“
Senior man talking to his estranged daughter | Source: Midjourney
His smirk widened.”I heard you’re doing well for yourself. Very well. Nice house, nice car. Married with a kid.” His eyes darted to the sparkling wedding band on my finger. “I figured it’s time you shared the wealth—with the man who made it all possible.”
I blinked, stunned. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he had every right to be there. “Without me, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have been adopted by that rich family of yours. I gave you that chance by letting you go. And now it’s time you paid me back. I want fifty percent of everything you own.” His hand swept dramatically over the entryway. “I like this mansion you’re living in.”
Hallway of a beautiful mansion | Source: Pexels
The audacity of his words hit me like a slap. My heart pounded as memories I had buried long ago began to claw their way back. Nights in the orphanage under a thin, scratchy blanket, the dimly lit halls that always smelled like overcooked cabbage. And the desperate hope that every visitor might be someone coming to take me home.
I folded my arms, trying to steady myself. “You gave me up. Do you know what that was like for me? Do you have any idea—”
He cut me off, waving a hand dismissively. “Spare me the sob story. You’re doing great now, aren’t you? That’s what matters. And you’re welcome, by the way.”
Senior man talking to his estranged daughter | Source: Midjourney
“You’re insane,” I shot back, my voice shaking. “You don’t get to waltz into my life after twenty-five years and demand anything.”
Before he could respond, his expression changed. The smirk faltered, and his eyes widened. Confusion—or was it fear?—flashed across his face as he looked past me, his focus snapping to something behind my shoulder.
“What the hell is that?” he muttered, his voice low but urgent.
I turned to see what had caught his attention.
Curious woman turning around | Source: Midjourney
There, stepping into the foyer with the calm confidence of someone who wouldn’t tolerate nonsense, was my husband, Daniel. In one hand, he held a tablet, in the other, our toddler’s well-loved stuffed bear. His sharp blue eyes took in the scene with a single sweep, lingering briefly on me before locking onto the man at the door.
The sight of Daniel seemed to deflate the boldness radiating from my biological father. His smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.
“Who’s this?” Daniel asked his tone even but protective.
Serious man standing in a luxurious living room with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney
“My biological father,” I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “Apparently, he thinks I owe him half of everything I own because he ‘let me go.’”
Daniel’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he set the tablet and the stuffed bear on the console table. Then, he stepped forward, his broad frame filling the doorway like a shield. The air between the two men was electric, the tension palpable.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here,” Daniel said, his voice low and cutting. “Especially with that kind of demand.”
Serious young man standing in a luxurious living room with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney
My father puffed up slightly, though his posture betrayed his discomfort. “It’s not unreasonable,” he said, attempting to reclaim his swagger. “Without me, she wouldn’t have had the chance—”
“Chance?” Daniel cut him off sharply, taking another step forward. “Without you, she wouldn’t have suffered the way she did. She wasn’t adopted by a ‘rich family.’ She was dumped into foster care and passed from one awful home to another. One family treated her like a servant—had her scrubbing floors when she was barely tall enough to hold a mop. She ran away at sixteen with nothing but the clothes on her back. That’s the legacy you left her.”
Man confronting a senior man | Source: Midjourney
The man’s face turned an ugly shade of red, his mouth opening and closing as if he were searching for words but finding none.
The man blinked, his boldness faltering. “That’s not—”
“And she didn’t rebuild her life alone,” Daniel cut in, his voice steady but laced with righteous anger.
“We met in that same orphanage after my parents dumped me there. We were just kids, but we made a promise—to survive, to create the lives we deserved, and to find each other again someday. And we did. Every dollar we have, every brick in this house, every ounce of joy—we earned it. You didn’t give her anything but scars.”
Embarrassed senior man confronted by a young man. | Source: Midjourney
I felt tears well up, my chest tightening as Daniel’s words hit me like waves of both affirmation and emotion. He wasn’t just standing up for me; he was laying bare the battles we’d fought and won together.
The man’s face twisted, his emotions flickering between anger, humiliation, and something almost pitiable. “So you’re telling me,” he spat, “that she owes me nothing? After everything?”
Daniel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “Not a damn thing. Not your validation. Not your approval. And definitely not your greed. You don’t get to walk in here and rewrite history. She’s better off without you. Now get off my property before I call the police.”
Young man confronting a senior man | Source: Midjourney
For a tense moment, the man stood there, his jaw working like he was chewing on his pride. Then, shoulders slumping, he muttered something and turned away, walking down the driveway with heavy, defeated steps.
Daniel waited until the man disappeared down the street before closing the door. The silence that followed was deafening. He turned to me, and the sight of his steady gaze broke me into tears as he crossed the room, pulling me into his arms.
Couple hugging | Source: Midjourney
“You’re the strongest person I know,” he murmured, his voice soft now. “He doesn’t deserve a second of your energy. You built this life. We built this life.”
I nodded against his chest, the weight of the encounter slowly melting away. “You’re right,” I whispered. “I owe him nothing.”
Daniel pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, a small, determined smile on his face. “That’s because everything you are, you’ve earned. And no one—especially him—gets to take that from you.”
Couple hugging | Source: Midjourney
If this story kept you on the edge of your seat, you won’t want to miss another jaw-dropping tale: I found out that I was adopted but was shocked to discover the identity of my biological dad. It’s a heart-pounding journey full of surprises that you won’t see coming.
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.
My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson
My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson
Mariah had been feeling less than healthy lately, causing her to admit herself into the hospital so that she could have a check-up. But in her absence, her children decided to rent out her house as an Airbnb, ready to pocket the money for themselves. When Mariah found out, she decided to teach her children a lesson.
“Mariah,” my friend Liz said on the phone, “why on earth is your house listed as an Airbnb?”
A phone opened to an Airbnb app | Source: Pexels
“What?” I asked, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Denise was looking for a house to rent for the weekend because it’s her bachelorette weekend, and she came across your house. Aren’t you still in the hospital?” she asked.
A group of women | Source: Midjourney
“Liz, I truly have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, looking at the IV drip away into my bloodstream. “Send me the link to the site Denise saw.”
This is how I taught my children a valuable lesson:
Recently, my blood pressure had been all over the place, causing me to faint at odd moments.
A close-up of an IV | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” my son, Liam, said, “you need to get it checked out. There’s no point in going to the pharmacy and getting medication over the counter just because you think it’s going to help. You need to get everything assessed properly.”
“And you need to start eating better,” Leah, my daughter, said. “Having oats in the morning, toast during the day, and soup at night isn’t a balanced diet. You’re playing with your health. It’s time to take things seriously.”
A counter at a pharmacy | Source: Midjourney
Leah moved around my kitchen, slicing vegetables to make a salad to go along with the grilled chicken she had been marinating.
“And what about your constant headaches? It’s time to get everything checked out. You should go into the hospital and do a full check-up,” Liam said.
A plate of grilled chicken and salad | Source: Midjourney
“But I feel fine, other than the headaches and dizziness; I’m good!” I retorted.
Both my kids snorted and rolled their eyes at me.
“Do it, Mom,” Leah said, pointing her finger at me.
A young woman pointing and smiling | Source: Midjourney
I had to agree with them. I had been downplaying my health lately. I still walked every second day and did as much yoga as my body would allow during the week.
But still, there was a nagging feeling that something could be wrong.
Women at a yoga class | Source: Midjourney
“Just go to silence that feeling,” Liz said when we met for smoothies after our yoga class one day.
“But what if we find something?” I asked, suddenly nervous to be speaking my thoughts out loud.
“Then, we’ll deal with it together. I know that Paul isn’t here anymore, but I’m here,” Liz said. “And anyway, we need you up and running for Denise’s wedding. I don’t know how to do the mother-of-the-bride things.”
A close-up of smoothies | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll go to the GP and take it from there,” I said. “If he thinks that it’s the way to go, then I’ll do just that.”
“Yes, Mariah,” the doctor said. “I think it’s a great idea for you to go for a full-body check-up. There’s nothing wrong with just knowing your health and body. And I’ll recommend a CT scan for your headaches, too.”
A doctor putting on gloves | Source: Pexels
Which is how I ended up at the hospital, and how my children chose to take advantage of the situation.
“I’ll bring your lunch soon,” the nurse said, smiling at me. “You just rest after your CT scan.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m just going to call my best friend and catch up with her.”
A smiling nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Midjourney
Catching up with Liz meant that hearing that my children had let my house out as an Airbnb for the week that I was scheduled to be in the hospital.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Liz asked me when I called her back after I confirmed that it was my house on the site.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I want to teach them a lesson. Leah and Liam should have known better. But Leah and her husband are always looking for ways to make extra money. I’m sure that Andrew has a gambling problem, too.”
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Liz said, chewing something into my ear.
A couple playing poker | Source: Pexels
“I want you to tell Denise to book it,” I said. “But they’ll recognize that it’s her, so she’s probably going to need to create a new account. Do you think she’ll be okay with that?”
“Of course, she will!” Liz said. “Anything for you. But then what?”
“I’m getting discharged tomorrow,” I said. “But the kids think that I’ll be here until the end of the week. So, let them think that they’re going to make some money off the place.”
A close-up of a woman’s IV and hospital band | Source: Midjourney
“You want Denise to rent the place, but you want to mess it up?” Liz chuckled. “That’s devious.”
“No, my children are devious,” I said.
I hung up the call, and the nurse brought my lunch to me, ready to leave me alone to eat while she did her rounds.
A tray of hospital food | Source: Midjourney
If I was being honest, I didn’t know how I felt about my children’s betrayal. But it hurt me to imagine that while I had been away at the hospital, my children were perfectly fine with having strangers take over my home.
“What were they thinking?” I asked myself.
They hadn’t given a second thought to people using the mugs I had hand-painted, or people sitting in their father’s worn armchair. Paul has been deceased for a few years now, but it still felt like his chair.
An armchair in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said to myself. “I’m going to get back at these kids.”
The next morning, I was discharged with a clean bill of health, despite warnings to keep my stress down.
“And keep an eye on your cholesterol, Mariah,” my doctor said. “Eat lots of green leafy vegetables.”
Leafy vegetables on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
I drove myself to Liz’s house, where I was going to wait for Denise to meet me with the keys to my house.
“Are you sure about this?” Liz asked, making me a cup of tea and buttering a lemon and poppy seed muffin.
“Yes,” I said. “And this way, they’ll truly have to feel accountable for their actions.”
A cup of tea with a muffin | Source: Midjourney
I went home a few hours later. There was something different about the house. The smell was different, and I knew for sure that someone else had been staying there.
There was a sweet perfume scent that took over my usual woody-scented house.
I had a long shower, ready to wash away the scent of the hospital that clung to my skin. I was ready for a long sleep in my own bed.
A comfortable bed | Source: Midjourney
For tomorrow, the fun began.
The next morning, I made myself some breakfast and dutifully took the array of vitamins and supplements that the doctor had given me.
Then, I began to pack away all of my appliances.
Appliances in the trunk of a car | Source: Midjourney
“Where are you going to put everything?” Liz asked me when she came over.
“I’m going to put some into the trunk of my car, and we can hide the rest in the garage for now,” I said.
Together, Liz and I emptied out the house, leaving only the old toaster behind.
“Come on,” Liz said, linking her arm in mine. “Let’s get you out of here.”
An old toaster in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I waited until Friday, staying with Liz. And then I drove myself home that afternoon.
“Hi Mom!” Leah said excitedly when she saw me pull into the driveway.
“Hi, honey,” I said, taking out my bag from the backseat.
We walked into the house, and there were entirely new appliances all over my kitchen.
A kitchen with new appliances | Source: Midjourney
“What’s all this?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.
“Liam and I thought that you deserved new things!” Leah said, looking at the floor as she spoke.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You came back to my home when your guest was supposed to check out and you found everything gone.”
Leah stared at me with her mouth open.
A shocked young woman | Source: Midjourney
“You know?” she said.
“Of course, I do!” I exclaimed. “I took everything! You needed to be taught a lesson. Why would you let my house out?”
Leah blinked slowly.
“Mom,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. Andrew and I thought that it would be a good idea because it seemed like a great opportunity to make some extra money. Liam said that it was okay as long as nothing was broken.”
A close-up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
“Darling,” I said, hugging her. “You can’t do this. If you and Andrew need money, you come and talk to me about it. Don’t do things like this. It’s going to ruin our trust.”
My daughter smiled and took my bag from me.
“Come,” she said. “I’ll make you some tea with the new kettle. I’ll return everything else tomorrow. And the money is all yours.”
A fancy kettle on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
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