A Week Ago, My House Was Robbed — Today, My Son (Who Doesn’t Have a Job) Bought Himself a Sports Car

Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I didn’t want to believe my son was a thief but I needed answers. I grabbed my keys and followed him. If he was up to something, I had to know.

His new car was easy to tail. I followed him across town to some high-end beauty salon. My eyes narrowed as I watched him step out and wait by the curb. And then, she appeared.

A woman, older than Jake, maybe in her mid-forties, stepped out of the salon. I watched, frozen, as she wrapped her arms around Jake and kissed him. It wasn’t just a quick peck either. This was… intimate.

My throat tightened as I sank lower in my seat. Who was this woman? And what the hell was Jake doing with her?

When they pulled away and got into the car together, I decided to keep following. They drove to the outskirts of town, where the houses turned into mansions. My stomach churned as Jake’s car pulled into the driveway of a sprawling estate.

My heart raced. This wasn’t just strange — it was wrong. Everything in me screamed that I had to stop this.

I didn’t wait for a second thought. I was out of the car and at the front door, pounding on it so hard I thought it might crack.

The door swung open, and there she was: the woman from the salon. Jake appeared behind her, his face immediately paling when he saw me.

“Mom?”

“Oh, you bet it’s your mom,” I spat. “What the hell is going on, Jake?”