I Grew to change into A Billionaire However Didn’t Give A Cent To My Unpleasant Stepmom

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Welcome to the Here's My Story channel. I'm Alan. The first time I opened the lid of my mother's piano after she had passed, I played her favorite song as bitter tears flowed down my cheeks. After I finished playing the song, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My dad had heard the music,.

And came to check on me. He was crying too. “I miss your mom so much,” he said. At that moment, we heard my stepmother's angry voice. “How often have I told you not to speak about that woman in this house?”.

She hissed, standing at the door. “Yes,” My dad snapped in annoyance, “and every time I've said you have no right to make that choice for us.” My stepmother began shouting, “If you can't handle your grief, why did you kill her in the first place?”.

My dad folded We lost my mom to a traffic accident. A drunk driver hit my parents' car. My dad had been driving the vehicle. The accident wasn't his fault. My dad was stunned to hear my stepmother blame him for it. He gasped, clutching his chest,.

“you… What do you mean? For years, I've blamed myself, said it should've been me. How could you… be so cruel?” Those were the last words he said before collapsing.

To the floor. My dad had a stroke that night because of my stepmother. The doctors said there was very little they could do for him. He would spend the rest of his life bedridden. He was conscious, but he couldn't move. All he could do was babble.

When he tried to speak. After a while, he became mute. Since nothing more could be done, they discharged him from the hospital. My stepmother was furious when she received the news. “I'm too old to be a live-in nurse. You handle it.

He's your father, after all. “What about school?” I protested. “You'll probably have to quit,” she said, “I don't know. Figure it out.” I stopped attending school, and spent most of my days with my dad.

I was happy to take care of him. I knew I was lucky that he was still alive. But I still had one big problem; my stepmother never gave me any money to care for my father. Before long, we wouldn't be able to meet our needs. My mom was a fantastic piano player.

Before she passed away. I wasn't fond of the piano at first, but she convinced me I should learn to play. She taught me everything I know. After taking lessons with her, I was able to sight-read music and play along. I remember in the evenings,.

My mom and I would sit together and practice. As our only audience member, my dad gave applause at the end of each song. Those fond memories gave me an idea. I could make money by giving piano lessons, so I posted an ad online. I found a kid who wanted to be my student in a week.

He signed up for two weekly classes. I was so grateful for making money playing the piano. Whenever I opened the piano's lid, I felt like my mom was right there beside me. My dad started having breathing difficulties. Concerned, I searched online.

And found a medical supply outlet to help him get the oxygen he needed. The next day I traveled across the city to pick up the supplies. When I returned home, I saw two guys carrying my mom's piano outside. “What's going on?.

Who are you? Where are you taking the piano?” I yelled. My stepmother said, “Calm down. Let the men do their job. Your dad can't work anymore! We haven't paid the rent in two months. I'm selling off anything of value.

To make ends meet. I thought I'd get more out of your mom's piano, but it's not even worth enough to pay rent.” I clenched my teeth in a fury. “That piano is the only thing I have left of my mother. It was priceless! I could have caught up on the rent.

With the piano lessons I've been teaching. You're a despicable excuse for a human being! I hate you!” I screamed. She responded in a cold and calculated voice. “Watch your mouth. As the primary name on the lease, I can have you and your father thrown out onto the street.”.

I couldn't argue with her. I collapsed at my dad's bedside, broken and hopeless. The room was eerily quiet. I realized my dad wasn't breathing. I placed two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. There was no heart beat. “Dad….

Dad, please. Please don't leave me,” I sobbed, hugging him. I lost my dad that same night. From now on, I'd be all alone. I cried nonstop at the funeral. My stepmother never shed a single tear. The air around her seemed to say, “I just want to get this over with and go home.”.

At one point, she came close to my ear. “I'm giving you a week's notice. Find yourself another place to stay. Since your dad is gone, we have no reason to live together,” she whispered. I fully expected this from her, but couldn't she have waited for us to get home after the funeral?.

This woman was a monster. I had to get rid of her. I didn't have any relatives who could take me in, but I'd rather live in a group home than live with her. The next day, she came into my room while I was packing.

“Your dad's lawyer called. They found some things in your dad's safe at the real estate office. I'm going to take a look. We need you there to sign off on a few things he left to you,” she explained. Handing me a wrinkled sticky note, she continued,.

“This is the address. You can ride the bus. The lawyer is expecting us.” The next day, when it was time to leave for the lawyer's office, I stepped outside to see my stepmother parked in her car with an annoyed look on her face. I was glad to be riding the bus;.

I couldn't stand to be around her. The second I stepped into the lawyer's office, my stepmother squawked loudly at the lawyer. “Here is his son. Now, will you please tell me what you found in that safe?” The lawyer placed two pieces of paper on the desk. One said,.

“Copyright Notice,” with musical notation below the title. The other document said “Certificate of Ownership.” That one had my grandfather's name and an address on it. The lawyer told my stepmother, “These are the documents found inside your husband's safe.”.

“So what are these?” I asked. “These were left to you by your grandfather. I retrieved the documents this morning. An interesting find to say the least,” he said, pointing to the music notes on the first document. “This is a registered copyright document naming you.

As the sole license holder of this musical work in the event of your grandfather's passing. I don't know how to read music. So I have no clue what the song is,” he explained. Then he pointed to the other document. “This is a deed to a house near the Ohio River in your father's name.”.

My stepmom stood up, leaning to look at the document with interest. “A deed for a house?” she said, picking it up from the lawyer's desk. “Yes, a deed. The law requires you to divide the inheritance equally. You can sell these off, and divide the proceeds,”.

He replied. My stepmother said, “We don't need to go through with the hassle of a sale. There are two items, so we can each pick one.” The lawyer looked at me and asked, “Would that work for you?” I shrugged,.

“I didn't know about any of this an hour ago. So I'm happy to be done here as soon as possible,” I said. With the fakest smile, my stepmother said, “Honey, you should keep this song as a memory of your father since you play the piano. You'll remember your dad whenever you play it.

I'll take the house.” “I don't care,” I said in a defeated voice. The lawyer tried to intervene, “Alan, are you sure? The house listed has considerable value. It's almost certainly worth more than a song.” “I don't care. Thanks, though,”.

I said, grabbing the musical document. As I left, my stepmother gave me a curt smile, thinking she'd gotten the better deal. I shot her a sly grin before stepping outof the office, “Goodbye; I hope you enjoy a peaceful life in your new house.” Now, I'm sure you're curious about why I left in such a good mood.

I'll give you a hint: my birthday had come early. The present my dad left me paid for a new car, a mansion, and everything I could have ever wanted. Meanwhile, my stepmom's new house landed her in the evening news. The headline read:.

“Woman Complains to Police About Ghosts in her House.” Yep, that's her on the front page. One night, she stumbled to the police station in her PJs. She'd been ranting all night at the Police station, saying, “Ghosts kicked me out of my house! Arrest them!” Of course, the officers didn't take her seriously; they thought she was insane.

According to the news story, my stepmom decided to live on the street because the ghosts wouldn't leave her alone. I vaguely remember my dad mentioning a weird house my grandfather had bought. Despite its size, He'd bought the house for cheap. As I expected, my stepmom found out why. It was so cheap.

Because it was known to be haunted. My grandfather was a superstitious man. He got spooked and refused to live in the house or sell it to anyone else. He couldn't bring himself to get rid of it, fearing for the safety of potential buyers. I knew about the deed in my dad's safe. I knew the house was worthless. But I was surprised.

And delighted to see my stepmother so disturbed. The run-down spooky lodge had been her punishment from me, but the ghosts had decided it wasn't enough. “But what about the present you got?” You might be asking. Remember the piece of paper with the musical notes on it?.

I knew exactly what song I was getting when I read them. I can play it for you. Yep. This is the “Happy Birthday” song. Perhaps the world's most well-known melody. I have no clue how my grandfather had claimedownership of such a famous song, or why my dad never told me about it.

Maybe Dad had never read the notes. Perhaps he only kept it as a small memento of his father. Whatever the case, I've been collecting royalties worldwide thanks to the “Birthday Song.” They've accumulated in a bank account in my grandfather's name. After proving copyright ownership, I was able to claim more than two billion dollars saved.

In that account. My stepmother called when she found out I'd become rich. “Honey, I want to come see you. I missed you a lot,” she said. Needless to say, I've been ghosting her. Though I have saved a few of her insane voice messages.

“You tricked me. I love music. I should've gotten that document with the notes. You will give me half of that money.” Ah, those messages never get old. The deal to divide the inheritance equally was her idea anyway. She'll just have to stay mad.

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