My Daughter-in-Law Broke My Arm Because I Wouldn’t Give My Son the $4 Million Lottery Jackpot I Won.
“Megan screamed at me that I had already lived my life. Theo said it was my obligation to give them the money. Megan twisted my arm until it broke.” He laughed as if it were a joke.
“Look at this!” Megan exclaimed, snatching the notebook from him.
“The crazy old lady is writing lies about us! This is what she’s going to use to poison the neighbors against us!” She tore the notebook into pieces and threw them on the floor.
They didn’t know I had copies of everything saved at Sharon’s house.
“We’re leaving now, Mom,” Theo said, picking up the pieces of paper.
“But we’ll be back tomorrow and the day after and every day until you tell us the truth.” They headed for the door, but before leaving, Megan turned to me with a malevolent smile.
“Oh, and Beatrice, we forgot to tell you,” Megan said with false sweetness.
“We already posted pictures on Facebook telling the whole family that you won the lottery but are playing dumb so you don’t have to share with anyone. Let’s see if your little friends in the neighborhood still talk to you when they find out you’re a stingy old woman.” They left, leaving my house a mess and me with a broken heart but with a clearer mind than ever.
I picked up the pieces of my notebook from the floor and put them in a bag. Even torn, it was still evidence of their intentions.
Then I sat down to think about the next step of my plan. I took out my phone and checked Facebook for the first time in months.
Sure enough, Megan had posted a picture of me with a caption that read:
“My mother-in-law won $4 million in the lottery but is playing dumb to avoid helping her family. She’d rather be selfish than see her grandchild grow up in a good house. Some people change when they have money.”
The post had dozens of comments from distant relatives and acquaintances criticizing me, calling me selfish, saying a grandmother should think of her family first. Megan had achieved what she wanted: to make me the villain of the story in everyone’s eyes.
But I no longer cared what people thought. I had lived 69 years trying to please others—to be the perfect mother, the ideal daughter-in-law, the kind neighbor—and it had led me to be alone, hurt, and betrayed by the people I loved most.
“Let them think what they want,” I murmured, closing the phone.
“Soon they’ll know who’s telling the truth and who’s lying.” It was time to move on to the second phase of my plan.
That afternoon, I dialed the number I had saved in my address book three years ago when I made my will: Attorney Benjamin Romero. A professional voice answered.
“Mister Romero, this is Beatrice Herrera. I need to see you urgently. It’s about a case of family extortion.” We scheduled an appointment for 9:00 the next morning.
Throughout the night, I prepared my evidence: the photographs of my injuries that Sharon had taken, the torn pieces of my notebook with the annotations, the receipts for all the loans they had never repaid, the copies of the lies they had published on social media—all meticulously organized in a folder. Mr. Romero received me in his office with the seriousness the case deserved.
When I showed him the photographs of my fractured arm and explained how it had happened, his expression hardened.
“Mrs. Herrera, this is aggravated domestic violence. We have solid grounds to proceed legally against your daughter-in-law.” “Mr. Romero, I don’t want to put anyone in jail,” I explained.
“I just want to protect my money and be left in peace. But I also want them to face the consequences of what they’ve done.” The lawyer nodded understandingly.
“I understand perfectly. We will use the evidence as a shield, not necessarily as a sword.” I signed several documents that day: a formal complaint for assault and extortion that would be filed away but ready to be used if necessary, a temporary restraining order prohibiting them from coming near me or my property, and most importantly, a new will where I completely revoked Theo and Megan’s inheritance.
“Mr. Romero, I want my entire estate to go to charity when I die,” I said, signing the final document.
“To organizations that help elderly people abandoned by their families.” Benjamin looked at me with respect.
“You are a very brave woman, Mrs. Herrera. Your son doesn’t know what a gem of a mother he is losing.” The next step was to visit the bank where I had transferred the $3.5 million.
I needed to establish a trust that would protect my money from any future attempts at theft or manipulation.
“I want that when I die, this money is automatically donated to nursing homes in the city,” I explained to the manager.
“Ma’am, are you sure?” The banker asked.
“It’s a considerable sum. Do you not have family who could benefit?” I showed him the photographs of my injuries.
“My family has already shown what kind of benefit they seek from me. I prefer my money to help people who really need it.” I returned home feeling lighter than I had in years.
For the first time since winning the lottery, I was in complete control of the situation. My money was protected, I had legal backing, and Theo and Megan could no longer intimidate me.
Now I just had to wait for them to get themselves into bigger trouble. I didn’t have to wait long.
The next day, Theo arrived at my house with two men I didn’t recognize. One of them was carrying a briefcase and looked like a lawyer; the other seemed to be some kind of private investigator.
I watched them from my window before deciding whether to open the door. When they knocked, I opened it with the chain on.
“Good morning, Mom,” Theo greeted me with false courtesy.
“I’ve brought Attorney Michael Torres, my lawyer. He’s going to explain the legal rights that Megan and I have to your money as direct family.” The supposed lawyer smiled at me with the confidence of someone who thinks they are going to scare an ignorant old woman.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m here to inform you that according to the laws of anticipated inheritance, you have a legal obligation to share your earnings with your direct heirs. Your son and daughter-in-law are entitled to receive 80% of what you won in the lottery.” I remained silent for a moment, pretending to be scared by his words.
“Is that true?” I asked in a trembling voice.
“I have to give them my money even if I don’t want to?” The fake lawyer nodded solemnly.
“That’s right, ma’am. It’s the law. If you don’t comply voluntarily, we can compel you through the courts.” “Well,” I replied, sighing.
“If it’s the law, then I have no other choice. Please come in so we can discuss the details.” I took off the chain and opened the door completely.
Theo smiled triumphantly, believing he had finally broken my resistance. They settled in my living room while I made coffee in the kitchen.
From there, I could hear them celebrating in low voices.
“I told you the old woman would give in as soon as we brought a lawyer,” Theo whispered.
“These ignorant old ladies get scared by any legal word,” The supposed lawyer replied.
I returned with the coffee tray and sat down opposite them with my best expression of a defeated old woman.
“Well, Mr. Torres, what papers do I have to sign?” I asked with feigned resignation.
The man took some very official-looking documents from his briefcase.
“Ma’am, these are the mandatory transfer documents,” He explained, showing me the sheets.
“By signing them, you comply with the law and avoid major problems with the justice system.” I took the papers and began to read them carefully, feigning confusion with the legal terms.
“Excuse me, Mr. Torres,” I said after a few minutes.
“But these papers don’t have the court’s seal. Shouldn’t they have some kind of official validation?” I saw the man get nervous.
“Uh, yes, of course, but that’s added later when we present them before the judge.” “And what is your bar association number?” I continued asking innocently.
“I’d like to write it down for my records.” The supposed lawyer started to stammer.
“It’s just, I don’t have it with me right now.” Theo looked at him worriedly, realizing something was going wrong.
I got up from the armchair slowly and went to my desk.
“Let me call my own lawyer to confirm that everything is in order,” I said, taking out my phone.
“I want to make sure I’m complying with the law correctly.” The look of panic on the fake lawyer’s face confirmed what I already knew.
I dialed Mister Benjamin Romero’s number and put it on speakerphone so everyone could hear.
“Mr. Romero, can you confirm if there is any law of anticipated inheritance that obliges lottery winners to share with their family?” His response was clear and forceful.
“Mrs. Herrera, no such law exists. No one can force you to give your money to anyone.” The silence in my living room was deafening.
The fake lawyer quickly gathered his papers and headed for the door.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’ll come back another time when I have all my documents in order.” He left almost at a run, leaving Theo and the investigator standing in my living room.
“Theo,” I said to my son with a calmness that threw him off.
“You just committed a crime. Trying to scam me with false documents and a non-existent lawyer is aggravated fraud.” His face fell when he understood he had walked into a trap.
“Mom, I didn’t know the lawyer was fake,” He stammered, trying to defend himself.
“Megan found him online. We thought he was real.” But I had heard enough lies.
“Theo, get out of my house right now and tell Megan that if you bother me again, I will use all the evidence I have against you.” They left without another word, but I knew this wasn’t over.
They had shown they were willing to go to any extreme to steal my money. It was time for them to face the real consequences of their actions.
That afternoon, I called Mr. Romero again.
“Mr. Romero, it’s time to activate the complaint. I now have enough evidence of their attempts at fraud and extortion.” My war had officially begun.
Surveillance and the Media Scandal
Early the next day, two police officers knocked on my door. They came to deliver the restraining order that Mr. Romero had arranged.
“Mrs. Anna Herrera, this order prohibits your son, Theo Herrera, and your daughter-in-law, Meghan Reyes, from coming within 200 yards of you or your property,” The younger officer explained.
“If they violate this order, they will be arrested immediately.” Two hours after the police left, my phone began to ring non-stop.
It was Theo calling again and again from different numbers. I didn’t answer any of the calls, but I did record all the voicemails he left me.
“Mom, answer the phone! We can work this out without lawyers or police. I don’t understand why you’re making this so complicated. We’re family!” His messages became more desperate and aggressive with each call.
“Mom, this is a betrayal! After everything I did for you, you repay me with a restraining order? Cancel that piece of crap right now, or I swear you’ll regret it!” Each message was new evidence I could use against him if necessary.
In the afternoon, Sharon came to visit me with news.
“Beatrice, you’re not going to believe what’s happening in the neighborhood,” She said, sitting in my kitchen with a cup of tea.
“Megan is going around telling everyone that you’ve gone crazy, that you sued them for no reason, that you’re accusing them of things that never happened.” I smiled bitterly.
It was exactly what I had expected.
“But that’s not all,” Sharon continued.
“I went to the supermarket this morning and ran into Mrs. Andrews, the neighbor from the corner. She told me that Theo and Megan came to her house last night asking if she knew anything about your bank accounts or if you had mentioned where you had hidden the money.” My stomach tied itself in a knot.
They were investigating my neighbors, trying to find clues about my money.
“What did you tell Mrs. Andrews?” I asked, worriedly.
“I told her I didn’t know anything, but I recommended she not get involved in these family problems,” Sharon replied.
“But I’m worried, Beatrice. Those two are desperate. I don’t know how far they’re capable of going.” That same afternoon, I found out just how far they were capable of going.
I was watering my plants in the front yard when I saw an unfamiliar car parked across from my house. Inside was a man with a camera who was taking pictures of me.
When he saw me watching him, he started the engine and drove off quickly. Theo and Megan had hired a private detective to watch me.
Over the next few days, the surveillance intensified. Different cars, different people, but always someone watching my movements.
