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One Dinner, One Disaster: Mother‑In‑Law Sold My House Novel Cover

One Dinner, One Disaster: Mother‑In‑Law Sold My House

During her first Christmas with the in-laws, the protagonist of One Dinner, One Disaster: Mother-In-Law Sold My House finds herself the target of Melissa Potter’s verbal abuse. While the rest of the family remains distracted by their phones, Melissa berates her daughter-in-law into preparing the entire holiday meal alone. After enduring the grueling labor to keep the peace, the kitchen work is finally finished, but Melissa blocks the way to the table, insisting on settling an ominous score before anyone can eat.
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Chapter 2

I tried to yank my bag back, but Melissa refused to let go.

Our tug-of-war ended when the strap tore with a sharp rip, sending the bag crashing to the floor. The force of the impact deformed the metal accessory adorning it.

My mind went blank.

"Do you have any idea how much that bag cost!" I shouted.

That bag had cost me over 100 thousand dollars, and to even qualify to buy it, I had to spend close to 120 thousand dollars more. I had only just gotten my hands on it, only for her to ruin it.

Melissa planted her hands on her hips and retorted, "I don't give a damn how much that cost. All I know is that you have enough money to buy a bag, yet you refuse to pay for the Christmas dinner. You're absolutely shameless!"

"And you're being unreasonable!" I snapped back.

I bent down to pick up the bag and stared at the damage. Sheer, unadulterated fury surged through me. "I'm not paying for this meal, and that's final! In fact, I won't even eat the food! What can you do about it?"

With that, I stormed off to grab my luggage with the intention of returning home.

Shawn chased after me and grabbed my arm.

"It's too late to go home now, especially since my house is in a rather remote area," he said quietly. "Since it's too dangerous to leave right now, let's only return tomorrow morning, okay?"

I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so the idea of having to spend several more hours on the road wasn't appealing to me either. Hence, I reluctantly agreed to stay. I doubted that Melissa could stir up much trouble in one single night.

With that thought, I headed straight to our room.

Not long after, Shawn snuck a plate of pasta into the room so that I wouldn't go hungry. His action eased some of my resentment toward him.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early to pack my things, ready to go back home. However, when I opened my suitcase, I realized that the property deed was gone.

I distinctly remembered stuffing it into my suitcase since I had only just received it right before I started packing for the journey here.

How could it be missing now?

Noting something off with my expression, Shawn asked, "Honey, what's wrong?"

"The property deed is gone," I answered with a scowl.

Wendy Zink, Shawn's younger sister, happened to walk past the room at that moment. She immediately bristled and shouted, "Jennifer, what do you mean by that? Are you saying that our family stole your property deed?"

Upon hearing that, Melissa also started throwing a tantrum. "Shawn, just what kind of woman did you marry? As if it isn't bad enough that she wants to freeload, now she's even accusing us of being thieves! How outrageous!"

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Shawn grabbed my arm while attempting to defuse the situation.

"Mom, don't be mad. Jennifer never said you all stole it."

He turned to me next. "Honey, don't get so worked up, okay? Maybe you accidentally dropped it when packing your things and didn't bring it here."

That wasn't entirely unlikely. Not wanting to stay there any longer and endure more humiliation, I swiftly dragged Shawn home. Arguing with them was a waste of time.

Unfortunately, I didn't find the property deed at home either. Left without a choice, I could only prepare the necessary documents to apply for a replacement.

However, several days later, I received a call from an unfamiliar number.

"My family wants to move into the house you sold me, so I need you to give me the keys."

Bewildered, I asked, "What did you say? When did I sell my house? Did you call the wrong number?"

The man on the other end of the line had a terrible attitude as he retorted, "What, are you trying to stiff me? I already transferred you the 800 thousand, and I have the property deed as well!"

He then sent me a photo of the property deed. Seeing my name on it, I realized it was indeed none other than the one I had lost.

I was so infuriated that I was momentarily breathless. That house was worth at least 1.8 million, yet it had been sold for a mere 800 thousand, and I hadn't even gotten a cent!

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