My Parents Demanded My Savings For My Golden-Child Brother — So I Displayed My $4 Million Portfolio On Their TV
Part 2
Aunt Carol leaned forward and squinted at the bright display.
“Are those millions?”
“With an M?”
“Total assets under management, four million, two hundred forty-seven thousand, eight hundred ninety-three dollars and fifty-two cents.”
I let the massive number sink into the suffocating silence.
I calmly navigated my trackpad to the breakdown page.
“The emergency fund you are referencing is this account right here,” I said.
My voice remained perfectly steady and professional.
“It contains eighty-five thousand dollars and represents approximately two percent of my total liquid assets.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish suffocating on dry land.
Dad had gone entirely pale.
His hand gripped the armrest of his leather chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
“How?” Craig’s voice cracked.
“How is this even possible?”
“You work in IT.”
“I am a senior software architect specializing in financial technology systems,” I corrected him.
“My base salary is two hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
“With my stock options, annual bonuses, and independent consulting work, my yearly income typically exceeds four hundred thousand.”
Brenda’s eyes had gone as wide as saucers.
Cousin Rachel had actually stood up from the loveseat to get a better look at the screen.
I clicked over to another tab on my dashboard.
It displayed my real estate holdings.
“I also own three properties.”
“The tiny apartment Mom mentioned is actually a two-thousand square foot condo in Riverside Towers.”
“I purchased it outright four years ago for six hundred fifty thousand dollars.”
“It is currently valued at eight hundred ninety thousand.”
Uncle Dan let out a low, impressed whistle.
“Riverside Towers?”
“Those are the luxury condos downtown.”
“I tried to get a viewing there once and could not even get past the lobby security.”
“I also own two rental properties,” I continued seamlessly.
“I have a duplex in the Pearl District and a commercial space in Old Town that houses a busy coffee shop.”
“My combined rental income is approximately six thousand dollars monthly.”
Aunt Carol was now openly staring at my parents.
“You did not know any of this?”
“She never told us,” Mom said weakly.
The sharp accusation in her tone had completely evaporated.
“You never asked,” I replied simply.
“Every single conversation about my career has been met with sheer dismissal.”
“Every attempt I made to share my successes was interrupted with reminders that I should be more fun like Craig.”
“I received endless lectures about how money is not everything.”
I pulled up another document.
I had been carefully preparing this particular file with my attorney for the past three months.
“This is a complete financial history of my transactions with family members over the past eight years,” I said.
The meticulously color-coded spreadsheet filled the screen.
“As you can clearly see, I have provided three hundred twelve thousand dollars to various family members during this time.”
I watched my father’s face carefully as the specific categories appeared on the television.
Craig’s failed business ventures totaled eighty-nine thousand dollars.
My parents’ undisclosed emergencies consumed one hundred twenty-seven thousand.
Craig’s car loans and credit card debt ate up forty-three thousand.
“Of the three hundred twelve thousand dollars provided, exactly zero dollars have been repaid despite your repeated promises,” I said.
“Additionally, I have discovered three instances where my identity was used to open credit accounts without my permission.”
Dad started to sputter in protest.
I clicked to the next document and his voice died entirely.
Do you want to know what happened when I showed them the credit cards they opened in my name?
