Scamming the Scammers

My own mother was catfishing eight different men online, simultaneously, using my face.

In my past life, I begged her to stop before it was too late. She just rolled her eyes, waving me off with a manicured hand.

Relax, Natalie, she scoffed. Your mother is just a hopeless romantic. Im only in it for the love, not the money!

But when those eight mendrained of their life savings and armed with actual machetesshowed up at our front porch, she had already packed her bags. She and my younger brother fled in the dead of night, taking every last cent.

I was left behind to drown in millions of dollars of astronomical debt, branded a gold-digging whore by the entire internet.

Driven to the absolute edge, with no way out, I climbed to the roof of my apartment building and threw myself off.

My soul hovered in the cold air, suspended over the pavement, watching as my mother and brother rolled up to my shattered corpse in a brand-new Porsche.

She looked down at me and laughed.

"Well, gravity is a hell of an eraser!" she smirked. "With you dead, theres no proof. That eight million your brother took is completely safe now."

She leaned closer to my ruined body, her eyes devoid of anything resembling maternal warmth. "Try to be born into money next time, sweetie. And whatever you do, don't get in your brother's way."

Then, I blinked.

And I was back on the exact day I first discovered her little online game.

...

"Daddy, come save your little princess, I'm so scared~"

The sickeningly sweet, artificially high-pitched voice hit my ears the second I opened my eyes.

I jolted upright. Sitting on the edge of the bed was my fifty-year-old mother, Donna, pinching her throat to sound like a helpless co-ed into her iPhone microphone.

Hearing the exact same dialogue from my previous life, a cold realization washed over me. I was back. I had been reborn.

"Jesus, Natalie! Don't creep in here like a ghost without knocking!"

Donna flinched so hard she nearly dropped the phone on her face.

On her glowing screen was a selfie of me. It had been run through at least a dozen editing apps, making my skin look porcelain and my lips unnervingly pouty.

In my past life, this was the moment I started shaking with rage. I had lunged for the phone, trying to delete her accounts.

My reward had been a sharp slap across the face.

This time, I stood perfectly still.

Seeing my silence, Donna immediately pivoted to playing the victim.

"What are you staring at? Your mother is just looking for a little emotional support!"

She clutched her chest dramatically. "Ever since your father left, my heart has been an empty gaping hole! I sit in this dead, quiet house all day. Who cares if I live or die? So what if Im getting older? Whats the crime in using your picture to make a few friends?"

I looked at her self-righteous sneer, swallowing down the toxic, burning hatred that threatened to spill out of my eyes.

Instead, I let out a soft sigh, walked over to the bed, and gently took her hand.

"Mom, you misunderstood."

My voice was a whisper. "Im not here to judge you. Im here to support you."

Donna froze. "What did you just say?"

I pulled out my phone and opened Zelle.

Ding.

Five thousand dollars instantly hit her checking account.

"Mom, take this for now. I was going to buy you that physical therapy machine, but you need this more."

I kept my voice incredibly gentle, laced with the exact kind of daughterly devotion she exploited.

"Youre right. A woman has the right to pursue love at any age."

Donna stared at the numbers on her screen, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling into a massive, greedy smile.

"Oh, my sweet girl! Youve finally opened your eyes!"

She practically vibrated with excitement, immediately transferring the funds into her high-yield savings. "Don't you worry, Mom is just chatting with these guys. Playing some video games. I promise I won't do anything crazy!"

Watching her gorge herself on the money, a quiet, cold laugh echoed in my chest.

"There is one thing I should warn you about, though, Mom."

I gently placed my hand over hers, stopping her scrolling.

"You're using my photos right now, right?"

Donna instantly recoiled, defensive. "Yeah, so? Are you trying to take the money back?"

I shook my head, leaning in closer, lowering my voice like a conspirator.

"Mom, youre taking money from these men. What if one of them turns out to be a psycho and traces your banking info? If you use your own ID and bank account, theyre going to find out youre a fifty-year-old woman. Not only will your cover be blown, but they might call the cops and have you arrested for fraud."

All the color drained from Donna's face. She slapped her thigh.

"Oh my god, you're right! Whatwhat do I do? I just got eight new sugar daddies this week, and I was about to ask them for a thousand-dollar 'welcome gift' each!"

"It's an easy fix."

I walked over to the nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and took out a stack of debit cards.

"Use Chase's SSN and his bank accounts to set up your Venmo and Cash App."

They were empty accounts my brother, Chase, had left lying around the last time he had to dodge his bookies.

"A guy's identity is the safest," I explained smoothly. "Even if things blow up later, when they see the money went to a guy named Chase, theyll just assume they got scammed by some teenage gamer bro. And frankly, men have egos. If they realize they got played by another man, theyll be too embarrassed to ever go to the police or make a public fuss."

I held her gaze, enunciating every word.

"Besides, Chase is going to need a house and a wedding ring soon. If you collect the money directly into his accounts, you're just saving it up for his future. Isn't that perfect?"

The moment the words left my mouth, Donna physically trembled. A feral, avaricious light exploded in her eyes.

"Yes! Yes! My brilliant daughter!"

She shoved her phone into my hands. "Quick, quick, show me how to change it! Frankie just said he wants to send me an allowance!"

I nodded obediently.

For the next thirty minutes, I methodically went through every single social media account, gaming profile, and payment app on her phone.

I linked every last one to Chases social security number and his checking accounts.

"All done, Mom. You can ask for whatever you want now. It's completely untraceable to you."

Donna snatched the phone back, instantly holding down the voice memo button. Her voice pitched up into that nauseating baby-doll whine.

"Frankie~ I really need my venti strawberry-crme pink drink! Don't forget the extra sugar pumps, daddy!"

"I'm so sad today... I think only a $5,200 transfer will make me smile again~"

Listening to a woman with severe Type-2 diabetes demand full-sugar syrup, I turned and walked out of the room.

"Cash App received: $5,200."

The crisp notification chime echoed through the door, followed by Donnas unhinged, hysterical laughter.

Laugh, Mom. Laugh it up.

I just hope you and Chase are ready to catch this windfall.

The moment I pushed open the front door later that afternoon, Donna was already screaming from the living room.

"Where the hell is my delivery? Frankie is waiting for a selfie of me drinking my pink drink!"

I handed her the sweating plastic cup. "Right here."

Donna snatched it, stabbed the straw through the lid, and took a massive, gulping sip.

"Mom, your diabetes is out of control, and your blood pressure is high. That cup is pure corn syrup and artificial dyes."

"What do you know?!" she snapped. "Frankie says he likes his girls sweet!"

Suddenly, her eyes darted to me. She shoved the half-empty cup into my hands.

"You know what, Mom shouldn't be drinking this. Here, sweetie, this is for you! See how good I am to you?"

I looked at the fake, plastic smile plastered across her face. I knew exactly what she was doing.

Sure enough, a second later, she raised her phone, subtly aiming the camera at me.

She needed a body double for her selfies.

I didn't expose her. Instead, I submissively took the drink.

As I lowered my head to sip from the straw, I tilted my face just slightly, widened my eyes, and gave the camera a look of pure, innocent vulnerability.

Click.

After slapping a dozen soft-focus filters onto the photo she secretly took of me, Donna hit send.

The reply came in seconds. A $500 Venmo notification.

Attached note: Drink up, baby. I like you with a little meat on your bones. That look in your eyes is killing me.

Before Donna could even type a reply

Crash.

The front door was kicked open.

My brother, Chase, swaggered in, sporting bleach-blonde hair and a permanent smirk of entitlement.

"Mom, give me two grand. I'm taking the boys out drinking tonight."

He didn't even glance in my direction, just held out his open palm like he was collecting taxes.

Instead of scolding him, Donna practically vibrated with joy, waving him over.

"Baby boy! Come look at how much Mom made for you today!"

Chase leaned over her shoulder. His eyes bulged at the screen.

"Holy shit! Thirty grand?! Did you rob a bank?"

"Robbing a bank doesn't pay this well!" Donna gloated, shaking the phone. "This is allowance money from Moms new online boyfriends! And its all sitting right in your checking account!"

Chase lost his mind. He grabbed Donna and planted a huge kiss on her cheek.

"Mom, you are a literal genius! You're a walking ATM!"

He turned, his eyes landing on me with absolute disgust.

"Unlike Natalie, the useless parasite. Going to her stupid corporate job every day, working herself to the bone for a pathetic six grand a month. Looking like a beggar."

Donna nodded in profound agreement.

"Exactly. Raising her is less useful than raising a dog."

I stood in the corner, holding the iced drink. I said nothing.

Suddenly, a FaceTime Audio call lit up Donna's screen.

Caller ID: Preston (NYC Trust Fund)

Without thinking, Donna tapped accept.

Instantly, a furious, aggressive male voice blasted through the speaker:

"Natalie! Why the hell did you sound like a chainsmoking seventy-year-old hag on that last voice note?!"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you some old bitch stealing photos?!"

The living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

Donna trembled violently, nearly dropping the phone. The gig was up. The guy was about to explode.

I moved. I snatched the phone from Donna's hand and instantly hung up the call.

Without a word, I walked into the bathroom. I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my blouse, exposing my collarbone. I ran my fingers under the faucet and slicked a few strands of wet hair against my skin. Keeping my face hidden in the shadows, I snapped a dark, suggestive photo of my neck and jawline.

Send.

Then, I held down the voice memo button. I lowered my voice until it was perfectly raspy, laced with breathless indignation.

"Preston, I just got out of the shower. I swallowed water and my throat is killing me."

"If you're going to talk to me like that, don't ever call me again."

I released the button. Sent.

Donna and Chase were huddled by the doorframe, entirely paralyzed, barely breathing.

Five seconds later.

The screen lit up.

Wire Transfer Initiated: 0-000,000.

Three frantic voice notes followed in quick succession, the arrogance completely stripped from the man's voice.

"Baby, I'm so sorry! I'm an idiot, I was raging at a video game and took it out on you!"

"I'm booking a flight tomorrow. I have to see you next month. I swear I'll make it up to you!"

Staring at the endless string of zeros on the screen, Chase threw himself at the phone, clutching it to his chest like a life preserver.

"One hundred grand... Mom! He dropped a hundred grand in one click!"

Donnas spine straightened. Her heavy body trembled with the sheer adrenaline of sudden wealth.

"Chase! If money is this easy to take, were going big!"

She gritted her teeth, a feral, emerald glint in her eyes. "Didn't Brittany say she wouldn't marry you unless we bought a new house? Forget a mortgage. Mom is going to use these idiots' money to buy you a penthouse in the city. Cash!"

"Next month, we are throwing the biggest, most expensive engagement party this state has ever seen!"

Chase was slapping his own thighs in ecstasy.

"Yes! We are doing it! Let all our broke-ass relatives see who Chase really is!"

The mother and son practically wept with joy, feverishly planning which luxury cars to lease and which zip codes to buy into.

I picked up the mop from the corner, slowly pushing it across the cheap linoleum floor to clean up a water stain. The repetitive, quiet motion anchored me.

"Mom is right," I chimed in softly, keeping my eyes down.

"It's Chase's big day. We can't look cheap. If these guys love you so much, its only right that they chip in."

Donna sneered, kicking a piece of lint toward me.

"Glad you finally understand your place. For the next few weeks, your only job is taking photos for me to keep them on the hook. If you do well, Ill let you have the leftovers from the catering."

I kept my head down. The mop moved in a steady figure-eight.

"Okay."

I just hoped you both would still be breathing by the time those leftovers were served.

Over the next two weeks, Donna went absolutely feral.

To scrape together the millions needed for Chases "wedding of the century" and the cash-paid penthouse, she was online twenty-four hours a day.

Her excuses morphed from buying bubble tea into utterly deranged, high-stakes cons.

"Frankie, my mom is in liver failure! I need fifty grand for the transplant!"

"Preston, baby, my family's business just filed Chapter 11. I need two million for payroll or the feds are going to take our house!"

I watched from the sidelines, perfectly still, as she played with fire.

Her targets weren't just lonely old men. There was the Manhattan trust-fund baby, a ruthless loan shark, and the CEO of a tech multinational.

Donna was essentially walking into a tigers cage covered in raw meat.

But she didn't care.

Watching the balance in Chases checking account rocket toward the eight-million-dollar mark, both mother and son had completely lost their grip on reality.

"Natalie! Get in here! Record a voice note for Mickmake it sound like you're crying!"

Donna kicked open my bedroom door.

I looked at her twisted, greed-swollen face and took a deep breath.

It was time.

I grabbed a stack of printed bank statements I had prepared and shot up from my chair. I forced my hands to shake, mimicking absolute terror.

"Mom! You have to stop!"

I forced tears into my eyes, my voice shrill and panicked. "Eight million dollars! This is felony wire fraud! You are going to federal prison!"

"Before they realize whats going on, we have to wire the money back! If you don't, you're going to ruin Chases life!"

Smack!

A stinging backhand whipped across my jaw.

Chase had stormed into the room. He glared at me with pure, unadulterated venom.

"You jealous bitch! You just can't stand that I'm rich now, can you?!"

"Wire it back? Why the fuck would we wire it back?! Thats Moms hard-earned money!"

Donna charged at me, her thick finger practically jabbing into my eyeball.

"You worthless parasite! You just want to see us miserable!"

"Let me tell you something! This money is for Chases future! If anyone tries to touch a single dime of it, I will kill them myself!"

I clutched my burning cheek, letting the tears spill over.

"Mom! I'm trying to protect you! These men are dangerous! If they track us down"

"Shut your mouth!"

Donna ripped the bank statements out of my hands and shredded them to pieces.

"Track us down how? Through the internet? They don't know who the hell I am!"

"Besides, the accounts are in Chases name! It has nothing to do with me!"

She spun around and kicked me hard in the shin. "Get out! Pack your shit and get out!"

"I'm sick of looking at your miserable face! If you can't be happy for us, you are dead to me!"

Within minutes, she and Chase grabbed my suitcase and violently threw it out the front door.

Slam.

The deadbolt clicked.

From inside, the muffled sound of their hysterical laughter bled through the wood.

"Ignore that psycho, Mom! We're going to the dealership tomorrow to pick up the Porsche!"

"Damn right we are! And the engagement party? Were renting out the entire Grand Magnolia Country Club! I want three hundred tables!"

I sat on the cold concrete porch, listening to them celebrate.

Slowly, I reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

The panicked, terrified expression on my face melted away, leaving behind nothing but cold, empty air.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the burner phone I had been hiding.

I opened the mass-text app.

I selected the eight contacts of the men who had just been drained of their fortunes.

[Hey guys. Thank you so much for taking care of me lately. Next Sunday is my younger brother Chase's engagement party.]

[I want to surprise you. I'm sending you the address. You have to promise me you'll be there.]

[Location Pin: Grand Magnolia Country Club, Main Lawn Banquet.]

The following Sunday. The Grand Magnolia Country Club.

The outdoor banquet spanned the entire estate, with three hundred tables covered in white silk. A plush red carpet was rolled out all the way from the highway exit down to the main lawn.

Chase was strutting around in a custom-tailored Tom Ford suit, a massive boutonnire pinned to his lapel, soaking in the admiration.

Donna was an absolute spectacle.

She had thick gold rings crammed onto all ten of her fingers, and a diamond tennis necklace resting heavily on her chest.

The relatives and townsfolk whispered in awe:

"Donna, I can't believe Chase made it this big!"

"A two-million-dollar penthouse in cash, and he pulled up in a Porsche! The kid is a prodigy!"

Donna stood on the main stage, her chin tipped so high she was practically staring at the sky.

"Of course! My Chase has always been a genius! He earned every penny with his own two hands!"

She paused, shooting a nasty glare in my direction.

"Unlike some ungrateful daughters who can't even afford to give her own brother a decent wedding gift. Waste of my damn time raising her."

The eyes of the entire county shifted to me, dripping with undisguised contempt.

"God, Natalie is such a loser. Showing up to an event like this in a faded t-shirt? Humiliating."

"Seriously. She has a millionaire brother and doesn't even know how to suck up to him. No wonder shes broke."

I stood perfectly still in the back corner, wearing my washed-out denim and a plain tee. I didn't argue. I didn't show an ounce of anger.

I just looked past the gossiping crowd, toward the main entrance of the country club.

Checking my watch. It was just about time.

Donna grabbed the microphone from the emcee, ready to launch into another monologue about her superior parenting.

But before she could speak

RUMBLE.

A deafening roar of high-performance engines shattered the classical music playing over the speakers.

Every single head in the venue snapped toward the entrance.

A convoy of dozens of pitch-black, tinted-window luxury SUVs and sports cars crawled up the driveway, completely blockading the country club gates.

The car doors opened almost in unison.

Eight men stepped out. They radiated an aura of absolute, terrifying violence, flanked by their own private security. They looked like a firing squad.

The eight men didn't even glance at the gold-draped mother and son on the stage.

Instead, they walked directly down the red carpet, parting the terrified crowd, and stopped dead in front of me.

Every single one of them was clutching thick folders of my photos and background checks.

"Natalie, right?"

The man in the fronta polished, sharp-eyed executive in a bespoke suitspoke first. His face was a mask of cold fury as he gripped a thick stack of bank transfer receipts.

"That two million dollars to save your bankrupt family business. Did it help?"

Immediately, a mountain of a man next to him, his arms covered in prison tattoos, slammed his palm down on the cocktail table in front of me, splintering the wood.

"You little bitch!"

He cracked his knuckles, his voice a low, gravelly snarl. "Didn't you tell me your mother was in liver failure and needed fifty grand for a transplant?"

He leaned in, his breath hot. "I just got out of federal lockup. I took out loans from the mob to get you that money, and you're out here eating caviar at a country club?!"

The entire wedding party erupted into chaos.

"Oh my god! Natalie scammed all these billionaires?!"

"Look at those cars! How much did she steal?! She belongs in prison!"

Up on the stage, Donna realized things were spiraling out of control. She ripped the microphone from the stand and screamed at the top of her lungs:

"Gentlemen! Sirs!"

"It was her! Natalie did all of it! It has nothing to do with my Chase!"

"Shes been a little slut since she was a teenager! Always sleeping around! She took your money and blew it all!"

"Arrest her! Take her! We don't care if you beat her to death, just leave us out of it!"

The moment Donnas words echoed over the speakers, the tattooed ex-con lunged. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, slamming my spine against the edge of the table.

"Eight million dollars!" he roared in my face. "If you don't cough up every cent today, I'm shipping you to a trafficking ring on the dark web!"

He raised his other hand, curling it into a massive fist, ready to shatter my jaw.

In that exact, razor-thin second.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the burner phone, and shoved the screen directly into the ex-con's face.

"Are you absolutely certain," I choked out, my voice deadly calm, "that the person calling you 'daddy' every night and begging for your money... was me?"

His fist stopped mid-air. His eyes involuntarily dropped to the glowing screen.

The corporate executive and the other six men closed in, their eyes locking onto the evidence.

When they saw what was on the screen, their pupils dilated in sheer, unadulterated horror.